“Begging your pardon, Mr. Arnold,” interrupted Mr. Carter, the naval surgeon of theDromedary, “two women have died since on theDromedary. One from a flux, which she hadprior to boarding, though she hid it well; and the other, Mrs. Murray—wife of a private—during childbirth.”
“I stand corrected, Captain. There are two and fifty women on theDromedary,which brings the total in the convoy to one hundred and forty-nine. Of these, there may be some ten with child, though the true number is uncertain and likely to change during the journey.”
“And the discord, of what do we speak?”
Mr. Carter spoke up. “Mrs. Murray, who died during birthing, was popular. Hers was a difficult travail and I was called to assist.” He looked around the table. “But I’m a naval surgeon, not a midwife. And none of the other women could tend to her. The travail was long and painful, and, in the end, she succumbed to fatigue and despair with the child unborn. I examined her afterwards, and the babe didn’t lie right. Perhaps it could have been turned, but I didn’t know how.”
“Surely such an occurrence isn’t unusual. Tragic perhaps, but the life of mother and child is our Lord’s to dispose of, after all,” replied Captain Pasco, frowning as he could not see where this discussion was leading.
“Indeed, but the women blame Mr. Carter, as surgeon, for the death. They are afraid each could suffer the same fate.” Colonel O’Connell rolled his eyes. “The women of the regiment will suffer all manner of hardship with their men when deployed on a march, but this sea journey has them quite discomforted. Many are Indian and not accustomed to voyages such as this, particularly the gyrations of the vessel and cramped quarters below deck. They have their allotted exercise on the upper deck, but…” Enough was said. Who could understand such women?
“You requested this meeting, gentlemen, because you have a solution with which I may not agree. Is that so?”
“You’ve the right of it, commodore,” said Captain Pritchard. “Let the women who are enceinte and theirhusbands transfer to theHindostan, with an equal number returned to theDromedary. The regiment believe they’ll be well treated here. Anyways, better than aboard theDromedary,where they no longer trust Mr. Carter, through no fault of his, I must add.”
“And what magic does theHindostanpossess that your vessel does not?” Captain Pasco was irritated. When did women’s business, and that of the regiment, become his concern? He looked to Mr. Arnold, his surgeon. “Ah, I begin to understand. The magicienne, I believe, is Miss Bennet—am I not correct? Did she not deliver Sgt. Monogan’s child?”
“Miss Bennet, a moment of your time, if I may?” Elizabeth was standing on the poop, enjoying a refreshing breeze, cooling the heat of the tropical sun.
“Certainly, Mr. Arnold. The children are well occupied; I’m at your disposal.”
Mr. Arnold looked momentarily discomforted. “It’s well known below decks the service you did for Sgt. Monogan’s wife. Their infant son thrives, much to your kind attention and care.”
“’Tis only what anyone would do. I assure you I’ve done naught out of the ordinary.”
“I would disagree,” responded Mr. Arnold emphatically, “but now you’ve a reputation, favourable of course, for the care of the women of the regiment. Particularly those who are increasing. Many face pain and discomfort during this time; some may require counselling if they have no women acquaintances with whom they can confide; others, perhaps, require intervention to turn the child if it lies wrong or medical intervention if there’s a serious disease of the womb, or a fallen womb, or the child has died.”
“But I know nothing of such things,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Youare the physician; surely it’s up to you to assist them.”
“No, I am neither physician nor midwife. I’m a naval surgeon, good for cutting limbs and removing musket balls and wood splinters. If I were involved, both woman and child would surely die under my hand.”
“What do you want, Mr. Arnold? My first duty is to Mrs. Bent; I’m tasked with caring for her children. They paid for my passage—I cannot neglect that responsibility.”
“Of course, Miss Bennet, they are your primary concern.”
A strange tone underlay Mr. Arnold’s voice. Normally his demeanour bordered on the arrogant and condescending. Now, he could hardly hold her eye: “There’s a request coming from Colonel O’Connell.” He paused, then continued hesitantly: “Only… if you so wish it, could you agree for the women of the regiment—those with child—to visit with you, say for a fixed hour during the day? Perhaps after breakfast. Naturally, I would seek permission from Mr. Bent and Captain Pasco for your attending them.”
Elizabeth recalled her letter to her aunt and her assisting Harshita.Then, she believed that God was guiding her. But her experience in Madeira, her need to rescue Isabella from the horrors of the nunnery, had discomforted her greatly—had God sent her to that church at precisely the right time to save the poor girl? But surely,Hedid not need to work through the agency of a young gentlewoman such as herself.
“Mr. Arnold, you ask much of me. Think what I must consider: my respectability for associating with those below decks; my capacity to assist the women—I do not wish to provide false advice; my position aboard this vessel—I have no authority, neither military nor naval; I’m full young and a woman—would they respect me? I know not.” Elizabeth turned away from the surgeon; nausea threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of dealing thus with the women of the regiment. She hurried back to her cabin. Mercifully, the children were still with Hannah and little William in the GreatCabin. She was alone, left to ponder Mr. Arnold’s request.
“Mr. Arnold, I would speak with you and Captain Pasco.”
Shortly, with the two gentlemen in attendance, Elizabeth accepted the chair offered. She seated herself before the captain’s desk, straightened her woollen day dress, and, once settled, spoke with as much authority as she could muster. Would her courage rise if they should argue against her?
“Let me be direct. Mr. Arnold spoke to me yesterday of holding, shall we say, visits with the regimental wives. In principle, I’m not averse to such.”
Mr. Arnold began to speak, but Elizabeth silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Let me finish, gentlemen. There are some conditions.” Ah, she bargained with the commodore of their convoy. Would even a junior captain do such a thing, let alone a young woman just barely out in society? Captain Pasco smiled. Clearly, Miss Bennet was a woman who was not intimidated by position and rank. He admired this lady for her audacity. If it were within his power to accommodate her, he would—if her demands were not too extreme.
“Continue, Miss Bennet. What is your proposal?”
“The growing babes of pregnant women take all of their sustenance from the mother. Aboard ship, the rations for women are barely adequate for feeding one soul, let alone two once the quickening occurs. Therefore, firstly, women who are sufficiently into their term must be given a man’s ration; secondly, each such woman will receive half a pint of goat’s milk, more if it’s available; and thirdly, some fruit such as orange, pomegranate, and nectarine. While I would prefer they drank no spirits, such a rule could not be enforced. Imbibing spirits produces small, weak children of limited intellect; they die young; on the other hand, milk delivers strong bones and quick growth. That’s my experience on my father’s estate.”
There was no talk of special privileges, no talk of assigningfurther help with the Bents’ children. Her only concern was the well-being of the women under her care. The decision was obvious.
“Miss Bennet, we have an understanding.” Elizabeth arose, Captain Pasco also stood, and accompanied her to the cabin door, letting her into the passageway. Turning back to Mr. Arnold, “A most remarkable woman. She’s young but so assured; she carries herself as a marchioness. Could we refuse her anything?” Seated again at his desk, he gazed towards the closed cabin door. “Mr. Arnold, we need a place where she can talk to the women in private. And pass the word—Miss Bennet is undermyprotection; her requests aremycommand.”
***
