Chapter 4: A Pilgrimage and Two Weddings

Holy Cross Churchyard, Bearsted. Kent. May 17th 1832

Twelve years ago I stood numb, shocked, and part out of my mind, as my family were laid to rest in this church yard. However, today I could not remember where in the large churchyard the Ashford family plot was situated. Fortunately a sexton, part way through digging a new grave, directed us to the place. Among the headstones commemorating Ashfords going back hundreds of years, were two relatively new stones. I had no memory of ordering the gravestones or deciding what inscriptions should be engraved upon them, and presumed Rob Crawshay had seen to that task. Caroline and John-Jarvis’s headstone bore a simple inscription:

Mimi knelt at the grave, placed the bunch of flowers she carried at the foot of the headstone and whispered something I could not quite hear.
She crossed herself in the Papist fashion, and then stood up. I saw tears in her eyes.
She clutched my hand as I bowed my head and brought images of Caroline into my mind. Somehow the faces of Caroline and Mimi merged and interchanged, as if both occupied the same space in my brain.
The twins looked on with solemn expressions on their sweet little faces.

Next to Caroline and John Jarvis headstone was another of similar size and shape. The inscription read:

Mollie and Caroline kneeled by the grave and placed the bunches of flowers they carried down on the grassy mound. Both girl closed their eyes, clasped their hands in the attitude of prayer, and I saw their lips move.
Caroline bent down towards the headstone.

“Bonjour, Mollie and Domina.” She said softly. “We are Caroline-Domina, and Mollie-Annette. We love Papa as much as you did, and our Mama loves Papa as much as your Mama did. We hope you are all happy up in Heaven, and we promise to love and look after Papa as you would have done. Rest in Peace.”
They both then stood up, although I could not see too clearly as tears were silently streaming from my eyes and cascading down my cheeks. Mimi clung to me, stifling her sobs, as our two wonderful daughters spoke to the shades of the girls whose names they bore.

We were nearly back to Monmouth House; the journey from Bearsted had been silent but comfortable, as if a weight had been lifted from our shoulders. A sense of tranquility and serenity possessed me, and I hugged Mimi to me in gratitude.

“Thank you for suggesting the visit. I feel cleansed and renewed.” In fact, I had the feeling, strange as it may seem, that Caroline and Mimi had merged into one persona, as had Mollie March with Mollie-Annette, and Domina Bermuda with Caroline-Domina.

All those I love and had loved were still with me. My present family in the flesh and my previous family in spirit. It was a comforting feeling, and for the first time since the terrible day of the Hungerford Hall fire I experienced a sense of peace and complement.

“The visit was something that needed to be done, Jacques, but you could not see it.” Mimi smiled over at our two girls. “I am so proud of you two; what you said and did at the grave side.”

“Am I anything like the Mollie who is now in Heaven?” Mollie-Annette asked.
It was a pertinent question, and I thought for a moment before replying.

“Both of you share a quick wit and a ready smile. Mollie March was older than you when I first met her, and I can imagine you will resemble her when aged fourteen. You are both adventurous, and likely to get into trouble, but will always be able to smile your way out of it.”

“What about me and Domina?” Caroline asked.
Once again I paused before replying. “Domina was a quiet and thoughtful sort of girl, much like you, Caroline. She was also fourteen when I first met her, and was kind and considerate, as you are now. She had been born a slave and...”

“Domina was a slave?” Caroline’s tone of voice expressed her distaste and shock.

“Was a slave. Your namesake Caroline bought Domina’s freedom when in Bermuda.”

“When I grow up I shall be like Caroline and free as many slaves as I am able,” Caroline said in a truculent tone of voice.

“I am sure you will sweetheart.” I said.

“Did you name us for the girls because we reminded you of them?” Mollie asked me.

“It was your mother who named you.” I turned and kissed Mimi. “She had the insight and wisdom to give you the name of the girl who most resembled you, and of the woman who freed slaves.”

‘Coromandel’, Grantham. May 24th 1832.

Mimi, Claudette, and the girls stopped off at the Allens’, where Jean-Woodrow, or John as he is known in Grantham, lived during our absences. It was to be surprise for him when he returned from the King’s School to find his siblings and mother awaiting him. However, it was I who received a surprise when arriving at ‘Coromandel’, finding Madam Hainaut seated in the withdrawing room.

My first reaction was one of anger – Josh Chamberlain was greatly exceeding his authority if he thought he could quarter his lover at ‘Coromandel’ when I was away. Josh saw the displeasure in my face and moved swiftly to calm me.

“Madam Hainaut is staying at the Blue Boar, Colonel. She arrived from Blanchards yesterday evening and thought John, Jean-Woodrow, would be here. She did not know he stays with his grandparents during term time when his family is absent.”
The expression on my face changed from anger to pleasure, and I smiled at Julianna. “This is an unexpected, but welcome, surprise, Madam Hainaut. Is there something amiss at Blanchards that has caused you to travel to Grantham?”

“No, Sir Elijah, nothing like that. I am here to prepare Jean-Woodrow for the examination and vive voce for entrance to Paris University.” She noted the look of surprise on my face and realised I had no previous knowledge of John’s intention.

“Perhaps I should return when you and Jean-Woodrow have discussed his future education. I can see you had no inkling of his desire to attend the Sorbonne.”

“But John, Jean-Woodrow, is only sixteen years of age, and will not be entering any university for at least two years...”
Madam Hainaut interrupted me. “His master at the King’s School believes him to be of a high enough standard to start university at the beginning of the next academic year in September.”

She rose from her chair and moved towards the withdrawing room door.

“With your permission I will return here tomorrow, after you and Jean-Woodrow, John, have had time for a full debate on his future plans. Perhaps Joshua could drive me back to the Blue Boar?”

“The Blue Boar is not much better than a brothel, Madam Hainaut, and no place for a lady. Please, stay here at Coromandel, we have plenty of room and John will be living here now that his mother and sisters are in residence.” I turned to face Joshua Chamberlain. “Please take the gig to the Blue Boar and gather up madam’s luggage...”

“I think I best accompany Josh, Sir Elijah. My possessions are strewn around the bedroom, and I would be embarrassed having him delve among my knick-knacks.”

“Very well. I will see you later, Madam Hainaut. By then my wife and daughters will have arrived, accompanied by John.”
The pair departed, and I smiled to myself. I would expect Josh to have delved many times into Julianna Hainaut’s knick- knacks, and I envied him the experience.

“I never thought for one minute you wished to attend the Sorbonne, John.” It was later that evening. Mimi and the children had arrived moments before Julianna and Josh returned from the Blue Boar. I had just time before dinner to apprise Mimi of the reason for Madam Hainaut’s appearance, and after our evening meal Mimi, John, Madam Hainaut and I sat around the kitchen table and deliberated on John’s academic future.

“I am proud to be half-English, Jack, but equally proud to be half-French.” John said, “And when Mister Childs said I was...”

“Doc Childs? The master who teaches Classics?”

“Yes, but he is now Head Master.” John gave a wide grin. “He well remembers you Jack, and told me you put once a toad in his desk. Mister Childs could not believe I was your son, and said I had more intelligence in my little finger than you had in your entire body.”

In fact it was not me who placed the toad in Doc Child’s desk but a fellow pupil named Mervyn Gadsby. ‘Gadzooks’, as we knew him, was a joker and prankster, and had been severely thrashed by the headmaster, Walter Huggins, a day earlier for a similar jape. If Mervyn suffered another beating at the hands of Huggins I feared for his life, and so took the blame for the toad incident. Huggins birched me until his arm wearied. However, I said nothing of this to John.

“I hope you put Doc Childs right regarding your paternity?”
John nodded. “I did, whereupon Mister Childs said it was obvious my intelligence came from my mother as Woodrow Allen was even more of a rapscallion than you were. But why do you call him ‘Doc’, he is not a Ph.D?”

“His forenames are Dante Orlando, thus his initials are DOC – QED!” I said, “But let us return to the business of the examination to enter the Sorbonne.”

“When Mister Childs suggested I apply to Corpus Christi College I asked if I could also apply to the Sorbonne. He asked me why a French university, and I gave the answer I now give you. Since living here in Grantham my French has deteriorated through lack of use. I am unaware of the history, politics, and intellectual life of France, yet when I become Master of Blanchards I will require all the knowledge available to me.”