“What do I care? You never seemed to care before about how I behaved. Lydia has behaved far worse than I and she has not received any reproofs from anyone.”
“Lydia and I have spoken on many occasions, just like I am speaking to you. She is also young, and has a lot to learn. She will calm down, and has, I believe, already begun to do so. You, on the other hand always seemed to behave with dignity and decorum so I thought that you were on the correct track. I missed this selfish and rude streak in you which seems to have come to the fore this week. I can only hope that you have not ruined your best chance at having a happy married life.”
“Mother, I gave myself that very chance when I refused to marry Mr Bingley. I could not marry him in all good conscience as I knew it would not be a right fit for either of us. Mother, you think that I am behaving out of my usual character when in all honesty I am fully embracing my inconstancy. In the long run, I could not have made Mr Bingley happy. I do not think I could make anyone happy. I will not pretend that I am able to. I am beginning to think that I will never marry.” The look of defiance that was on Jane’s face as she said this made Mrs Bennet even more worried. This was not her sweet and loving Jane, but an idea occurred to her that may just work if the reason for Jane’s behaviour was what she was suspecting. Mrs Bennet would have to be careful though, as she did not know what it was that would truly help Jane. She kept her counsel to herself and decided that she would not allow herself to be deceived by her daughter or by anyone else again. “I think you must be sick, Jane. The daughter that I raised would not speak to me thus.”
Jane threw her back and laughed, a strange, almost evil laugh. “Mother, I really cannot imagine why you would think that. You indulged me all my life and missed each and every time that I gained my own way rather than someone else’s. Each and every one of my selfish triumphs, you gloried in. Why do you now believe that I would not act in such a selfish manner?” Guilt once more smote Mrs Bennet’s breast, and the warning that she had received from the Swans echoed loudly in her head. If Jane were beyond redemption then surely the warning would not have been given? That was Mrs Bennet’s only comfort right now. “Oh, and Mother, if you wish to chastise me for dancing the waltz last night, then do not bother! I saw Lydia before I came to see you. You may make her feel guilt over her actions, but you will not have that effect on me. I believe that I am immune to anything that you or anyone else can do or say on this matter. In fact, I think that I may just be immune to absolutely anything that does not serve my desires and my needs.” With that she abruptly left her mother staring after her. It was true that she was of age, but Mrs Bennet was definitely determined to do something about her behaviour. Once she was up and dressed for the day, Mrs Bennet would be visiting with the few people who could advise her on how to deal with the situation that she suspected herself to be dealing with.
Meryton was exceedingly busy as Mrs Bennet made her way through the quiet streets. It was a Sunday so everyone was either at church or sleeping off the excesses of the previous night. Mrs Bennet found herself standing outside her sister’s house, which was situated above her husband’s place of work. The house looked deserted and forlorn. Mrs Bennet had been surprised to find out that Mr Phillips had surprised his wife to a month-long trip to Bath at this time. The timing could not have been worse in her opinion, as they had left on Boxing day. Mrs Bennet missed Mrs Phillips right now, her sister may not be the most sensible woman in the world but she did know how to calm Mrs Bennet. There would be much to do once this twelve-tide was over and the wedding excitements died down. She had to focus. Something was wrong with her daughter, and she needed to find out what it was before it was too late. Mrs Bennet moved on. The direction she would soon be taking was one she needed to be careful with. There had been many rumours about the woman she was going to see, rumours that were based in a truth that Mrs Bennet hoped to keep hidden from the world. A truth that was still dangerous for the world to know. The woman lived on the outskirts of Meryton but had been shunned for many years because of some peculiar goings on around her property. Those goings on had been pranks played on her by some rather unpleasant children, but the damage had been done. The woman had become a recluse, only ever emerging from her home on rare occasions. Mrs Bennet needed her help desperately.
The cottage was neat but showed signs of the years. The once white walls had a layer of grime that shocked Mrs Bennet. It had been years since she had been here. Their last meeting had been on less than friendly terms. Mrs Bennet hoped for a friendly welcome, but could not be serene about it. Fifteen years change a person. Lydia had been one the last time Mrs Bennet had visited with her friend here.
“What do you want?” came the screech from inside the cottage when Mrs Bennet pulled the bell. “I want no street urchins pulling my bell, and I don’t do favours. I have no friends and you better have payment at the ready, or you won’t get your potions.”
Mrs Bennet nearly walked away. Could this be her friend Louise? What had happened? It was evident that the children were still terrorising her. “I come in friendship” Mrs Bennet called through the door.
“I have no friends” the woman screeched back.
“You are mistaken, for you have been my friend since we were babies.” Mrs Bennet called. She would not give up on her friend, not like she had fifteen years ago. Things were different now, and Louise needed to know that. When no answer was forthcoming Mrs Bennet thought that she should walk away. Perhaps Louise still held a grudge about what happened; however, she was thankful that she held her nerve for just a short while later the door of the cottage was flung open and there was an older version of her friend standing in the doorway, looking wild and unkempt.
“If it ain’t Fanny Gardiner. Come to gloat about how your life at the manor is so much better than mine, have we?!” Louise was obviously wary of what Mrs Bennet had to say.
“No, I was wrong, Louise. My life is not any better than yours. I have troubles enough, and I am sorry that I was so horrible back then. Can you forgive me, please?”
Louise Pope threw back her head and laughed the sweetest and most joyful laugh, “Fanny, I forgave you long ago. I knew that you were speaking from a host of worries. I knew all about Jane and Lydia’s issues. I have followed the highs and the lows of your family. I have longed for you to come and say what you just did.” Louise ushered Mrs Bennet into her sitting room, where she introduced Mrs Bennet to her husband. The man was not highborn, and was awkward at best at the sight of Mrs Bennet. Mrs Bennet put him at his ease, though, and turned to her friend.
“Louise, I came here as a matter of urgency, something that I desperately need your help with.” Mrs Bennet was anxious that Louise would think that her overtures of friendship were not true.
“I already know what brings you here. I have seen it in the crystal ball. It is not my help that you need. For no magic can save Jane from what ails her.” Louise seemed to go into a trance for a long while she said nothing, and her husband began to glare at Mrs Bennet. IT was clear that he was not a friend of Louise’s abilities, and blamed the clients that she continued to use them. When Louise came out of the trance she said “What ails your daughter will claim her life. How long she has, was not shown to me. Heed well the warning that was given by the Swan Queen for her words were true. Jane has many paths before her at this moment. Had she married Bingley then her path would have been fixed and England completely lost. She may still take that dark road. Should she rise and become mistress to the Prince Regent himself then all will be lost, for she will desert the prince for a position in France. Should Jane have the position of mistress to both the Regent and to Napoleon then the war against Napoleon will be lost and England will be no more, for Jane will betray her king and her country. Should you take the path that forces Jane to stay at Longbourn for a few more years, then all will be well. Jane will not recover. You shall bury your daughter before your husband. England will survive and all will be well. In all these paths that which ail
s Jane is not cured, but only gets worse.”
“But what ails my Jane, and can I restore her mind and character to that which it used to be?” Mrs Bennet was almost frantic. Whatever path her eldest daughter took, she would not survive. How had it come to losing the daughter that she loved more than any other?
“What ails her I cannot tell. It is shrouded from me. The doctors will not know until after her death.” Louise was clear on this point. She was not given the knowledge of what it was.
“Then all is lost. My dearest child is lost to me forever.” Louise silently rose and collected a potion from the other room. “Put this in Jane’s tea, and make her drink, it will recover her personality for a short time. In the meanwhile, please encourage her to not only see Mr Jones, but to consult a London physician.”
“Thank you, Louise.” Mrs Bennet said tucking the potion into her reticule. She then stayed with her friend catching up and promising to return once she had seen to Jane and recovered from Twelvetide.
Meryton had not only woken up by the time that Mrs Bennet left her friend, but a carnival had arrived. Mrs Bennet was lulled into watching the various displays that were going on in the marketplace. There was much more that was going on at the village common, but she had no wish to go there. The marketplace was on her way home. The sign at the edge of the square, said that a group called the Dancing Lords were going to be giving a display of not only traditional dances, but also many of the brand-new dances that were coming over from the continent. Mrs Bennet smiled, perhaps it would not be so bad to sit and watch the display. She enjoyed dancing and she was not due to be at Longbourn for a while yet.
Mrs Bennet had to laugh when the Dancing Lords came out of the local pub to do their display. It was evident that they had been drinking and when she counted them there were ten men. Their display was interesting, but Mrs Bennet learnt nothing new from it. She knew all of the dances that they were dancing. Several members of the crowd were dragged in to dance with them at varying times, and Mrs Bennet was thankful to be at the back so that she was not one of those who were pulled in. As enjoyable a display as it had been, Mrs Bennet’s thoughts were constantly at home. Louise’s statement that it was nothing magical that ailed Jane had made Mrs Bennet all the more worried. Would the potion that Louise had given her really stem the malice and selfishness that Jane had stated to be a part of her character? Mrs Bennet did not know. She would watch and see how Jane reacted over the next few days.
The next few days would not be needed for the moment Mrs Bennet arrived home she knew that Louise’s statements were true. When Mrs Bennet arrived home, she found Jane alone in the parlour, holding her head and screaming her lungs out. The girl was insensible to anything that was around her. Mrs Bennet dropped her reticule onto her usual seat and pulled the bell to call for Mrs Hill. Once the elderly housekeeper arrived, Mrs Bennet called for Mr Jones and for her husband. Mrs Bennet prayed that this was not a sign of what was to come for her poor Jane. Nothing Mrs Bennet tried seemed to recall Jane to the world around her. In fact, Jane seemed to be going further and further into a delirium. Once Mr Bennet arrived, he and a manservant managed to carry Jane up to her room, but Jane was in too much pain to realise even where she was. Nothing could have prepared the Bennets for this outcome.
Chapter 11 – 4th January 1813
Eleven Drummers Drumming
Mrs Bennet spent a cold night sitting vigil with her ailing daughter. Mr Jones had been busy and not able to come to see the patient until the early hours of the next day. Mrs Bennet had administered several cups of willow bark to Jane, but it had not touched the pain, and nobody had been able to get a history of how long the pain had been going on nor whether there were any other symptoms. Jane had become almost insensible by the time that Mr Jones arrived. After a brief external examination, the ageing apothecary could not find anything the matter with Jane, other than the pain in her head and a few swellings around her wrists and ankles. So, he administered a dose of opium to her. As the strong drug kicked in, Jane was slowly able to speak once more. Her speech was slow and slightly slurred when she did speak and she remained unfocused. Mrs Bennet was extremely worried but she listened to the history that Jane gave.
WHEN MR JONES HAD FINISHED listening to Jane, he issued two bottles of opium. She was to take a dose of it each time that the headaches became severe. Mrs Bennet was worried. She had heard of the curse that the opium was. The tales of those who took the stuff were dreadful. “Mrs Bennet” the apothecary gravely said when they were downstairs in the parlour. “I am afraid that I bear bad news. I fear your daughter has not much longer in this world. Do not fear for I only prescribe the opium to my patients who are close to death’s door” Mrs Bennet clutched her breast, could her daughter really be so dreadfully ill? Why just two days go she was smiling and whirling around the dance floor as if she had not a care in the world. She had not the words to ask if this truly was so severe. She could not contemplate losing her daughter at such a young age. The apothecary recognised Mrs Bennet’s actions. “I am sorry to be the bearer of such dire news, but if my diagnosis is correct, Miss Bennet is suffering from something that we have very little way of detecting until after the patient passes away. You see, I am afraid that Jane might be suffering from a growth in her brain. I have heard of such cases before, though I have not seen one in my own practice until now. I will only know for certain, if I am allowed the privilege of cutting open her brain after her death. Yet if I am right, then she will continue to get these blinding headaches as the growth increases. In the cases I have read about it depends on where the growth is situated as to what happens in the brain. In your daughter’s case, I believe the changes in personality and the slurred speech are all part of the symptoms of the same thing. I am sorry, but as this is something that we do not yet fully understand and have no way of confirming at the present time, the only thing I can do is give Miss Bennet something to keep her comfortable. I do not know how long she has. If this is progressing rapidly, as the symptoms suggest, then she may not have more than a few hours or days left. If it progresses slowly, she could hang on for weeks or months or even years. There is no way of knowing what will happen. However, I would advise sending for her sisters and letting them know the situation.” With that sad prognosis, Mr Jones left the Bennet parlour and quit the house. Mrs Bennet stayed in a state of confusion for many minutes until her sister Mrs Gardiner came into the room.
Slowly Mrs Bennet related the whole sorry tale to Mrs Gardiner, who was shocked and appalled. By the time that she and the other guests at Longbourn had realised that there was something wrong, Jane had been carried upstairs and only Mr and Mrs Bennet knew what was happening. Now the sad reality was beginning to make itself known around the house. A melancholy air descended on the house, and soon all were tiptoeing around the house as if it was a crime to speak above a whisper or to make any noise. Mrs Gardiner was a big help to Mrs Bennet, and went to Netherfield herself to bear the sad news to the married Bennet girls. It was a comfort to Mrs Bennet that her brother's wife should be so helpful and kind to her. The biggest surprise, though, was in Lady Catherine. The great Lady had been staying at Longbourn over twelve-tide as she wished to avoid being with the younger generation. Now her advice and aid were invaluable. Lady Catherine was able to take over many of the menial tasks around the home and ease Mrs Bennet’s mind of those cares, which meant that she was able to spend most of her time with her ailing daughter.
Elizabeth was the first of the sisters to arrive. The moment she had heard the news from Mrs Gardiner, she had called her carriage and rushed back to Longbourn, leaving only the briefest of notes for her husband, who she knew would follow her. Mary and Catherine were slower only because they waited for their husbands to join them before making the trip to their childhood home. Mrs Bennet was about to leave for a little bit so that Elizabeth and Jane could speak together, but Jane expressed a wish that her mother would not leave. Elizabeth took over tending to Jane’s needs, and a
n exhausted Mrs Bennet took up her vigil on the other side of the bed. She dozed slightly as the two girls laughed and exchanged a few secrets. Nothing much seemed to matter at the moment. Lady Catherine looked around the door but had sat too many vigils by her daughter’s side to consider that the family would want any interruptions now.
“Mama, Lizzy says she cannot hear them, but I swear there is a band of drummers outside the window. Oh, please would one of you look and tell me?”
Mrs Bennet looked at Elizabeth. This could not be good. She could not hear the drums either. She assumed that this was just another part of Jane’s symptoms. Mrs Bennet decided to humour her daughter and got up and went to the window. As she expected, there was nothing there but the lush green of the Hertfordshire countryside. However, winking at Elizabeth, Mrs Bennet said “Yes Jane, I hear them, they are standing on the lawn playing a tattoo in your honour.”
Jane smiled a serene smile and silently listened to the music of the drum that only she could hear. Elizabeth and her mother sat together in a companionable, worried silence. They knew that by the end of the day Jane would no longer be with them. The hue of her face had already changed from that of a healthy girl’s in her early twenties to that of a sickly pallor and as the day moved on, the sickly pallor became more and more pronounced. Around midmorning, Jane had tried to get up to use the chamber pot, but she had found that she no longer had control of her legs. She would rise from her bed no more.
It was early in the afternoon, when the rest of her sisters and their husbands joined Elizabeth and Mrs Bennet in the sickroom. Lydia and Kitty sat together, not speaking, and holding hands. Mary tried to be prosaic, but her joy with Tom made everything sound more cheerful than solemn. Jane did not mind. She knew her time was up, and seeing Mary become so joyful was something that she was happy about. The young men disappeared downstairs after condoling with Mrs Bennet and Jane. They left their wives to the task of sitting with their sister. Mr Bennet came up near nightfall bringing two other young men with him. Mr Darcy had been detained by his own estate business, and trusted his wife to be doing exactly what she was. He had come to make sure that she taken a small amount of rest, but she would not leave her sister. With only a cursory glance at his sister by marriage, Darcy knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would not last the night. He did not press Elizabeth to leave Jane, but rather made her promise that she would rest directly the melancholy event took place. Mrs Bennet thought that it was a bit crass to be so blunt, but Elizabeth just nodded and gave her agreement. Darcy then made the appropriate remarks to both Jane and Mrs Bennet before he too disappeared downstairs. However, the other young man now appeared in Jane’s doorway. He was unsure of himself, and pain was written over his every feature. Mrs Bennet was pleased to see him and recognised his need to say goodbye. So, she waved him into the room, and ushered out the girls. This would be a private encounter.
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