American television personality Fred Rogers related that his mother gave him essential advice as a young boy: Look for the helpers. This simple recipe distills the vital nature of well-functioning human societies. Persons we would consider “helpers” act to relieve life’s pain, bring people to a better place, soothe and comfort.
Oddly enough, the man at the center of Pride and Prejudice was not someone who would ever actively seek assistance. Darcy was so confident in his abilities that he was constitutionally unable to ask anyone for aid. Darcy’s self-assuredness often was construed as arrogant pomposity. This attitude, of course, was deployed by Austen as a device to set Elizabeth Bennet’s teeth on edge and send events cascading throughout the book.
Would that Darcy could have been more like Bingley, but then we would not be here today!
In Plain Sight grew from my sentiment that Darcy had to set aside his insufferable pride at being Darcy of Pemberley to be the man worthy of Elizabeth’s love. I had to strip away that cloak of wealth and invincibility to do that. He could no longer be Fitzwilliam Darcy, one of Derbyshire’s most significant landowners. He had to become what he earlier would have seen as nobody, invisible to any who mattered. Fitzwilliam Darcy had to disappear before discovering how to be worthy of the name.
He, of course, could not do it alone. Nor could he accomplish this solely through Elizabeth’s good offices. While her love would redeem him, he needed others to get him where that force could be usefully applied.
As I wrote the novel, I found myself surrounding Fitzwilliam Darcy with a cloud of helpers. This process grew from the essential inversion of Darcy’s position in the world: no longer was he the helper, but instead, he, in his guise as Smith, was the helpless. No longer was he an independent actor. Rather, as a convicted felon, he was utterly dependent upon the whims of his warders, men who determined his work, his home, his food, and, most tellingly, his punishment.
In the Canon, secondary characters often become grace notes, useful to amplify plot details or to establish the nature of other individuals, but not required to be painted in the same detail as Darcy or Elizabeth. Given their assigned task, In Plain Sight’s extra characters had to be deeper and richer so that readers could watch them help the solitary man, the prodigal. Thus, as we moved through the book, I had to build the supporting cast layer by layer.
Others may come to the forefront in the novel, but here are some supporting individuals I directed toward the rehabilitation of William Smith. Please note that I am not forgetting the essential nature of Elizabeth’s love for the convict Smith as the ultimate force that eases his path back to Pemberley.
Henry Wilson: The youthful convict gives us the power of Smith’s innate character. His backstory as one who formerly would have been ignored, if tolerated, by Fitzwilliam Darcy ignites the first central plotline. Later in the book, Wilson’s marriage to a young Darcy House servant, Annie Reynolds, moves the tale forward at Hedgebrook House, where he has risen to under-steward and Annie, as Mrs. Reynolds’ niece, to under-housekeeper.
Mary Bennet and Edward Benton: The story of this young couple serves to educate Elizabeth while also working in concert to help Smith reclaim his honor and freedom. Benton stands as the antithesis of William Collins. Benton’s noble character shows us that the man who had captured Mary’s heart was more than a simple country vicar. Likewise, his shining standard indicates that Mary has scruples and approaches life like her older sisters. Mary creates an interesting counterpoint to Elizabeth deep in the novel when she hides in plain sight to avoid the seekers.
Richard Fitzwilliam: Delegated by the court to leave the army and assume Pemberley’s proprietorship in his cousin’s stead, Fitzwilliam does much of the heavy lifting on Smith’s behalf in Book Two and is forced to behave like the original Darcy. He also removes the threat to both Smith and Lizzy in Book Three. His sarcastic humor provides some comic relief. Many readers have enjoyed his conversations with his stallion, Imperator. My favorite was his tête-à-tête with Mr. Bennet at the Dower House to relieve the tension inherent in the novel.
Mr. Bennet: In brief, Longbourn’s master becomes the savior of Henry Wilson, William Smith, and Elizabeth Bennet. He confronts and delays the book’s villain, Sir Thaddeus Soames as the reader transitions from Act Two to Act Three. He throws off his cloak of indolence (see the confrontation mentioned above with Richard Fitzwilliam) to stand astride the resolution of the Meryton side of the story.
I sought to avoid creating caricatures as I built the supporting cast. I will admit to leaving Mr. Collins much as we have come to see him. The power of the helpers, though, brings a more profound feeling to In Plain Sight by offering relatable and believable persons who can exist outside the novel’s confines.
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Since the last issue of Austenesque Thoughts, I have learned that my Pride and Prejudice/Persuasion crossover novel, The Sailor’s Rest, has been named a semi-finalist in the 2023 CIBA Goethe Awards for post-1750 fiction.
More to come!
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This excerpt from In Plain Sight is by Donald P. Jacobson.
This scene takes place in the Longbourn Dower House after Richard Fitzwilliam has brought Smith inside. Bennet and Benton have confronted him.
Chapter Fifteen
Fitzwilliam swallowed a guffaw and schooled his features as Bennet clumped across the flags. The clouds that had settled around the older man’s brow became all the more pronounced the closer he drew to Richard, who remained rooted where he stood. Bennet’s second, the young vicar, identifiable as a churchman only by his somber garb, trailed his chief by a step and kept off his left shoulder, staying directly in line with their “guest.” His hard-eyed intent was clear; he would protect Mr. Bennet should the session deteriorate. Fitzwilliam became convinced that Benton could hold his own as he assessed the cleric’s broad shoulders and callused hands.
The pair came up to Richard and stopped. Bennet speared him with a glare.
Fitzwilliam lowered his head and stepped aside.
The master of Longbourn led the way through the door and into the Dower House’s front hall.
Implicitly accepting Richard’s new behavior as an apology, Thomas turned and lifted one shaggy eyebrow in question.
Fitzwilliam slid back pocket doors leading into a pleasant parlor. The chamber was illuminated and warmed by a crackling log fire that spit and popped in the grate.
There, lying face down on a sofa, its Dutch cover still protecting the upholstery from dripping corruption, rested the long form of an unconscious man buried beneath a many-caped greatcoat. Benton dashed to his side, placing two fingers against the poor soul’s pallid neck. The victim lay there in the frightening boneless repose typical of the departed. An arm drooped down to the Berber upon which his hand rested, palm upwards, mimicking Maestro Michelangelo’s Pieta. The room held its breath. Benton had to reposition his hand twice before the tension drained from his shoulders.
“He lives, although his pulse is thready,” Edward reported as he dropped back onto his haunches.
Then he looked up at Richard, who nodded his permission. Benton lifted the greatcoat away.
Three gasps filled the room as the extent of the injuries became visible. Until that moment, after the battle focus had released its hold on Fitzwilliam’s mind, he had not contemplated the depth of the scourging. Richard felt his legs jelly as he comprehended the damage done to his cousin. He staggered over to a chair and collapsed into it, his features milk-white. He stared at the floorboards three feet in front of his seat.
A pair of booted feet moved into his vision.
Bennet gently asked, “By your reaction, Mr. Fitzwilliam, you are as overset as we are. I shall not belabor you with questions of who, what, and why right now. We need to get this man immediate medical attention. Benton can ride for Mr. Jones, the town’s apothecary.”
“No!” Richard exclaimed. “That is what we cannot do!
“Give me two minutes, and I shall explain why that would be fatal—both for this man and many more, including, possibly, your family. That may be overstating the case, but I fear that, at the very least, the lives of you, Mr. Benton—and your daughter, Miss Elizabeth—may be imperiled if news of his survival spreads.”
“Elizabeth? Why would she be in danger?” Bennet roared.
Benton stepped to the older man’s side and gently urged, “Calm yourself, Father Bennet. Did you look closely at the patient?
“He is the one who came to young Wilson’s aid at Netherfield. None of us need to question that he won no friends among his warders two days ago.
“I have seen backs like this before, although few on men still alive. Remember, I served aboard the Billy Ruffian. Some of the men earlier had served under flogging captains like Bligh.
“This fellow looks like someone who hated him manned the whip. I would not be surprised if the lash had a metal tip and ground glass glued to the strap. At least three dozen shredded this back. The only consolation is that he was probably unconscious after the first twelve. Look at the bruises on his wrists where his entire body hung on the lashings.”
Fitzwilliam croaked, “And, not satisfied with nearly beating him to death, they threw Smith—his name is William Smith, I have learned—into the river, hoping the rapids would finish their work.
“That is why Miss Elizabeth is in danger. She found him in the ditch by the river road. As for you and Mr. Benton, you now fall into the same category by possessing knowledge that he yet breathes. I worry little about my health because my family’s name protects me, although I have learned not to place too much faith in that.
“However, if the men who did this”—he waved his hand toward Smith—“learned of his survival, I have little doubt that they would cut off all loose ends, whether or not the ‘nuisance’ included a young gentlewoman. They prize their skins far too much to permit any threat to exist. They would do the deed, and the perpetrators would vanish into the darker warrens of town. Those bastards would leave behind the violated bodies of those assumed to bear dangerous knowledge as well as innocent bystanders who might have witnessed their dark work.”
Benton gasped. “Mary!”
“And Fanny and the other girls, too,” Bennet added bleakly.
Standing, Fitzwilliam smoothed the wrinkles from his pantaloons. “Then we agree? No apothecary?”
Receiving two nods, he continued, “I have a solution, but one that will not be available until after dark. One of us could ride to town, probably Benton, and return with my family’s physician and surgeon, Mr. Angus Campbell. He has patched up more of the Highland regiments than I care to count.
“If anyone can put this man to rights, Campbell can.
“The only problem we face is keeping him in the land of the living until the two of them return in eight hours.”
Their conference was broken by a pleasant, albeit demanding, soprano. “Have you not yet gotten this poor man medical attention?
“Men!”
***
The threesome spun at the sound of Lizzy’s voice. Astonishment, anger, guilt, and worry were the most visible emotions on their faces. Elizabeth embodied pure fury.
“Papa! Mr. Benton! Mr. Fitzwilliam! I have spent an hour slogging along in damp skirts and soggy boots. My only consolation was that I assumed Mr. Smith’s injuries would be treated.
“Instead, I discover three refugees from Tattersall’s grazing peacefully outside the Dower House. My curiosity aroused, I found the front door open and you three chattering like Mama, Lady Lucas, and Mrs. Long.
“What debate could you be having? Why have you not sent for Mr. Jones?” she asked through clenched teeth.
Mr. Bennet was used to his daughter’s potent emotions, so akin to his wife’s yet so different. Stepping forward, he placed his hands upon her shoulders and soothingly delivered a dire message. “Lizzy, softly now. It seems that no good deed goes unpunished. Mr. Fitzwilliam explained the danger you and the rest of our family would face if it became known that we were harboring Mr. Smith.”[i]
Lizzy spun on Fitzwilliam. “You told him?”
Richard shook his head at the vision of outraged womanhood standing before him. “I fear that I had to, Miss Elizabeth. I needed to convince Mr. Bennet of the danger, especially after we—you and I—had concluded that someone had tried to murder this man.
“And that being the case, the scoundrels would not hesitate to silence any witnesses to their failure.
“However, Miss Elizabeth, I have not yet had the opportunity to enlighten Mr. Bennet that I had never seen you alone with Mr. Smith but rather that I had come upon you as you were trying to return home to Longbourn to secure assistance for him.”
Elizabeth smiled at Fitzwilliam’s gallant effort to preserve her reputation. She lifted her hand to forestall any further attempts on his part. “I doubt Papa will insist that I marry Mr. Smith…or you, for that matter. And Mr. Benton is no Mr. Collins.”
When Fitzwilliam gave her a confused look, Elizabeth recast her statement. “Mr. Benton understands the concept of Christian charity, unlike our cousin, a rector in Kent. I was a solitary Samaritan coming upon a victim by the roadside. I could do no less than attempt to alleviate his suffering before hurrying on to my father’s house.
“But, enough of this. What can we do if we cannot have Mr. Jones because he might gossip?”
Richard explained their plan in a few sentences.
Lizzy pursed her lips and stated the obvious. “He may not have eight hours. We need to deal with his back immediately.”
Benton looked thoughtful. “When we brought Wilson to Longbourn, I recall that Mrs. Hill had a well-stocked case of medical ointments, salves, and bandages.”
Bennet added, “Something necessary in a household with five children and a full complement of servants.”
“True enough, Mr. Bennet,” Benton replied, “but I was thinking we could spirit the kit from Longbourn and bring it here. Miss Elizabeth, do you think you could help me treat Mr. Smith?”
He looked over at Fitzwilliam and Bennet and explained further. “When I was in Bellerophon, I assisted the surgeon in the orlop when we battled the French. I know what we have to do.
“You, Mr. Fitzwilliam, would be better served by going to town to fetch Campbell. Your people will be more likely to listen to you rather than an unknown preacher from the country.
“Mr. Bennet could go now and return with Mary and the supplies. I would be more comfortable knowing that she is here with me. It would also eliminate any questions of propriety of me being here alone with Miss Elizabeth.
“As for you, Father-to-be, I fear you may have the most difficult task of all: concocting a story that will satisfy Mrs. Bennet. You must return to Longbourn to run a holding action until Lizzy and Mary can return home.”
Pulling closer, Benton whispered, “And given the threat, bring me a pistol.”
[i] I recognize that this is anachronistic, but it does sound good coming from Mr. Bennet, someone that we could picture as saying this. The earliest use of this phrase and its variations appears in the 1930s. https://classroom.synonym.com/what-is-the-origin-of-the-phrase-no-good-deed-goes-unpunished-12081809.html
I had been looking for this book for a while. I am so thankful you republished it. Upon rereading it, I loved it even more. I agree that your secondary characters were more fleshed out, much like Austen's were. It's one of my favorite variations.