Remarkable Creatures Part 16

"Has something happened to Mary?" William Buckland asked.

"No, no, she is well."

Reverend Conybeare frowned, and even Mr Buckland, who was not a frowner, wrinkled his brow. "Miss Philpot," Reverend Conybeare began, "we are about to hold our meeting at which both Mr Buckland and I will be giving important-nay, even history-making-addresses to the Society. Surely your query about Miss Anning can wait until another day while we concentrate on these more pressing matters. Now, if you will excuse me, I am just going to review my notes." Without waiting to hear my response, he turned and padded up the carpeted stairs.

Mr Buckland looked as if he might do the same, but he was slower and kinder, and he took a moment to say, "I should be delighted to talk with you another time, Miss Philpot. Perhaps I could call around one day next week?"

"But sir," Johnny broke in, "Monsieur Cuvier thinks the plesiosaurus is a fake!"

That stopped Reverend Conybeare's retreating back. He turned on the stairs. "What did you say?"

Johnny, the clever boy, had said just the right thing. Of course the men did not want to hear about Mary. It was Cuvier's opinion of the plesiosaurus that would concern them.

"Baron Cuvier believes that the plesiosaurus Mary found cannot be real," I explained as Reverend Conybeare descended the stairs and rejoined us, his face grim. "The neck has too many vertebrae, and he believes it violates the fundamental laws that govern the anatomy of vertebrates."

Reverend Conybeare and Mr Buckland exchanged glances.

"Cuvier has suggested the Annings created a false animal by adding a sea serpent's skull to the body of an ichthyosaurus. He claims they are forgers," I added, bringing the discussion to what concerned me most.

Then I wished I hadn't, for seeing the expressions my words ignited on the men's faces. Both registered surprise, giving way to a degree of suspicion, more prominent in Reverend Conybeare's case, but also apparent even in Mr Buckland's benign features.

"Of course you know that Mary would never do such a thing," I reminded them. "She is an honest soul, and trained-by your good selves, I might add-in the importance of preserving specimens as they are found. She knows they are of little use if tampered with."

"Of course," Mr Buckland agreed, his face clearing, as if all he needed was a prompt from a sensible mind.

Reverend Conybeare was still frowning, however. Clearly my reminder had tapped into a seam of doubt. "Who told Cuvier about the specimen?" he demanded.

I hesitated, but there was no way around revealing the truth. "Mary herself wrote to him. I believe she sent along a drawing."

Reverend Conybeare snorted. "Mary wrote? I dread to think what such a letter would be like. The girl is practically illiterate! It would have been much better if Cuvier had learned of it after tonight's lecture. Buckland, we must present our case to him ourselves, with drawings and a detailed description. You and I should write, and perhaps someone else as well, so Cuvier will hear about it from several angles. Johnson in Bristol, perhaps. He was very keen when I mentioned the plesiosaurus at the Inst.i.tution at the beginning of the month, and I know he has corresponded with Cuvier in the past." As he spoke, Reverend Conybeare ran his hand up and down the mahogany banister, still rattled by the news. If he hadn't irritated me with his suspicion of Mary, I might have felt sorry for him.

Mr Buckland also noted his friend's nerves. "Conybeare, you are not going to withdraw your address now, are you? Many guests have come expressly to hear you: Babbage, Gordon, Drummond, Rudge, even McDownell. You've seen the room: it's packed, the best attendance I've ever seen. Of course I can entertain them with my musings on the megalosaurus, but how much more powerful if we both speak of these creatures of the past. Together we will give them an evening they will never forget!"

I tutted. "This is not the theatre, Mr Buckland."

"Ah, but in a way it is, Miss Philpot. And what wonderful entertainment we have prepared for them! We are in the midst of opening their eyes to incontrovertible evidence of a wondrous past world, to the most magnificent creatures G.o.d has created-apart from man, of course." Mr Buckland was warming to his theme.

"Perhaps you should save your thoughts for the meeting," I suggested.

"Of course, of course. Now, Conybeare, are you with me?"

"Yes." Reverend Conybeare visibly donned a more confident air. "In my paper I have already addressed some of Cuvier's concerns about the number of vertebrae. Besides, you have seen the creature, Buckland. You believe in it."

Mr Buckland nodded.

"Then you believe in Mary Anning as well," I interjected. "And you will defend her from Cuvier's unjust charges."

"I do not see what that has to do with this meeting," Reverend Conybeare countered. "I mentioned Mary when I spoke about the plesiosaurus at the Bristol Inst.i.tution. Buckland and I will write to Cuvier. Is that not enough?"

"Every geologist of note as well as other interested parties are upstairs in that room right now. One announcement from you, that you have complete confidence in Mary's abilities as a fossil hunter, will counter any comments from Baron Cuvier that they might hear of later."

"Why should I want to cast doubt in public on Miss Anning's abilities, and indeed-and more importantly, I might add-doubt on the very specimen I am just preparing to speak about?"

"A woman's good name is at stake, as well as her livelihood-a livelihood that provides you with the specimens you need to further your theories and your own good name. Surely that must matter to you enough to speak out?"

Reverend Conybeare and I glared at each other, our eyes locked. We might have remained like that all evening if it weren't for Johnny, who had become impatient with all of the talk and wanted more action. He ducked behind Reverend Conybeare and leapt onto the stairs above him. "If you don't agree to clear Miss Anning's name, I shall go and tell the roomful of gentlemen upstairs what Cuvier has said," he called down to us. "How would you like that?"

Reverend Conybeare made a move to grab him, but Johnny leaped up several more steps to remain out of reach. I should have scolded my nephew for his bad behaviour, but instead found myself snorting to hide laughter. I turned to Mr Buckland, the more reasonable of the two. "Mr Buckland, I know how fond you are of Mary, and that you recognise how much in debt we all are to her for her immense skill in finding fossils. I understand too that this evening is very important to you, and I would not want to ruin that. But surely somewhere in the meeting there is room for you to express your support of Mary? Perhaps you could simply acknowledge her efforts without mentioning Baron Cuvier specifically. And when his remarks are at last made public, the men upstairs will understand the deeper meaning of your declaration of confidence. That way we will all be satisfied. Would that be acceptable?"

Mr Buckland pondered this suggestion. "It could not be recorded in the Society's minutes," he said at last, "but I am certainly willing to say something off the record if that will please you, Miss Philpot."

"It will, thank you."

He and Reverend Conybeare looked up at Johnny. "That will do, lad," Reverend Conybeare muttered. "Come down, now."

"Is that all, Aunt Elizabeth? Shall I come down?" Johnny seemed disappointed that he could not carry out his threat.

"There is one more thing," I said. Reverend Conybeare groaned. "I should like to hear what you have to say at the meeting about the plesiosaurus."

"I'm afraid women are not allowed in to the Society meetings." Mr Buckland sounded almost sorry.

"Perhaps I could sit out in the corridor to listen? No one but you need know I am there."

Mr Buckland thought for a moment. "There is a staircase at the back of the room leading down to one of the kitchens. The servants use it to bring dishes and food and such up and down. You might sit out on the landing. From there you should be able to hear us without being seen."

"That would be very kind, thank you."

Mr Buckland gestured to the doorman, who had been listening impa.s.sively. "Would you show this lady and young man up to the landing at the back, please. Come, Conybeare, we have kept them waiting long enough. They'll think we've gone to Lyme and back!"

The two men hurried up the stairs, leaving Johnny and me with the doorman. I will not forget the venomous look Reverend Conybeare threw me over his shoulder as he reached the top and turned to go into the meeting room.

Johnny chuckled. "You have not made a friend there, Aunt Elizabeth!"

"It doesn't matter to me, but I fear I have put him off his stride. Well, we shall hear in a moment."

I did not put off Reverend Conybeare. As a vicar he was used to speaking in public, and he was able to draw on that well of experience to recover his equanimity. By the time William Buckland had got through the procedural parts of the meeting-approving the minutes of the previous meeting, proposing new members, enumerating the various journals and specimens donated to the Society since the last meeting-Reverend Conybeare would have looked over his notes and rea.s.sured himself about the particulars of his claims, and when he began speaking his voice was steady and grounded in authority.

I could only judge his delivery by his voice. Johnny and I were tucked away on chairs on the landing, which led off of the back of the room. Although we kept the door ajar so that we could hear, we could not see beyond the gentlemen standing in front of the door in the crowded room. I felt trapped behind a wall of men that separated me from the main event.

Luckily Reverend Conybeare's public speaking voice penetrated even to us. "I am highly gratified," he began, "in being able to lay before the Society an account of an almost perfect skeleton of Plesiosaurus, a new fossil genus, which, from the consideration of several fragments found only in a disjointed state, I felt myself authorised to propound in the year 1821. It is through the kind liberality of its possessor, the Duke of Buckingham, that this new specimen has been placed for a time at the disposal of my friend Professor Buckland for the purpose of scientific investigation. The magnificent specimen recently discovered at Lyme has confirmed the justice of my former conclusions in every essential point connected with the organisation of the skeleton."

While the men were warmed by two coal fires and the collective bodily heat of sixty souls, Johnny and I sat frozen on the landing. I pulled my woollen cloak close about me, but I knew sitting back there was doing my weakened chest no good. Still, I could not leave at such an important moment.

Reverend Conybeare immediately addressed the plesiosaurus' most surprising feature-its extremely long neck. "The neck is fully equal in length to the body and tail united," he explained. "Surpa.s.sing in the number of its vertebrae that of the longest necked birds, even the swan, it deviates from the laws which were heretofore regarded as universal in quadrupedal animals. I mention this circ.u.mstance thus early, as forming the most prominent and interesting feature of the recent discovery, and that which in effect renders this animal one of the most curious and important additions which geology has yet made to comparative anatomy."

He then went on to describe the beast in detail. By this point I was stifling coughs, and Johnny went down to the kitchen to fetch me some wine. He must have liked what he saw down there better than what he could hear on the landing, for after handing me a gla.s.s of claret he disappeared down the back staircase again, probably to sit by the fire and practise flirting with the serving girls brought in for the evening.

Reverend Conybeare delineated the head and the vertebrae, dwelling for a time on the number in different sorts of animals, just as Monsieur Cuvier had done in his criticism of Mary. Indeed, he mentioned Cuvier in pa.s.sing a few times; the great anatomist's influence was emphasised throughout the talk. No wonder that Reverend Conybeare had been so horrified by Cuvier's response to Mary's letter. However, whatever its impossible anatomy, the plesiosaurus had existed. If Conybeare believed in the creature, he must believe in what Mary found too, and the best way to convince Cuvier was to support her. It seemed obvious to me.

It didn't to him, however. Indeed, he did just the opposite. In the middle of a description of the plesiosaurus' paddles, Reverend Conybeare added, "I must acknowledge that originally I wrongly depicted the edges of the paddles as being formed of rounded bones, when they are not. However, when the first specimen was found in 1821, the bones in question were loose, and had been subsequently glued into their present situation, in consequence of a conjecture of the proprietor."

It took me a moment to realise he was referring to Mary as proprietor, and suggesting she had made mistakes in putting together the bones of the first plesiosaurus. Reverend Conybeare only bothered to refer to her-still unnamed-when there was criticism to lay at her feet. "How ungentlemanly!" I muttered, more loudly than I had intended, for a number of the row of heads in front of me s.h.i.+fted and turned, as if trying to locate the source of this outburst.

I shrank back in my seat, then listened numbly as Reverend Conybeare compared the plesiosaurus to a turtle without its sh.e.l.l and speculated on its awkwardness both on land and in the sea. "May it not therefore be concluded that it swam upon or near the surface, arching back its long neck like the swan, and occasionally darting it down at the fish which happened to float within its reach? It may perhaps have lurked in shoal water along the coast, concealed among the sea-weed and, raising its nostrils to a level with the surface from a considerable depth, may have found a secure retreat from the a.s.saults of dangerous enemies."

He finished with a strategic flourish I suspected he'd thought up during the earlier part of the meeting. "I cannot but congratulate the scientific public that the discovery of this animal has been made at the very moment when the ill.u.s.trious Cuvier is engaged in, and on the eve of publis.h.i.+ng, his researches on the fossil ovipara: from him the subject will derive all that lucid order which he never has yet failed to introduce into the most obscure and intricate departments of comparative anatomy. Thank you."

In so saying, Reverend Conybeare linked himself favourably with Baron Cuvier, so that whatever criticism arose from the Frenchman would not seem to be directed at him. I did not join in with the clapping. My chest had become so heavy that I was having difficulty breathing.

An animated discussion began, of which I did not follow every point, for I was feeling dizzy. However, I did hear Mr Buckland at last clear his throat. "I should just like to express my thanks to Miss Anning," he said, "who discovered and extracted this magnificent specimen. It is a shame it did not arrive in time for this most ill.u.s.trious and enlightening talk by Reverend Conybeare, but once it is installed here, Members and friends are welcome to inspect it. You will be amazed and delighted by this ground-breaking discovery."

That is all she will get, I thought: a sc.r.a.p of thanks crowded out by far more talk of glory for beast and man. Her name will never be recorded in scientific journals or books, but will be forgotten. So be it. A woman's life is always a compromise.

I did not have to listen any longer. Instead, I fainted.

The lightning that signalled

my greatest happiness

It was only by luck that I saw her go.

Joe got me up. He come to stand over me one morning when Mam was out. Tray was lying next to me on the bed. "Mary," he said.

I rolled over. "What?"

He didn't say anything for a minute, just looked down at me. Anyone else would think Joe's face was blank, but I could see he was bothered by me staying in bed when I weren't ill. He was biting the inside of his cheek, little bites that tightened his jaw if you knew to look for it.

"You can get up now," he said. "Miss-Mam is fixing it."

"Fixing what?"

"Your problem with the Frenchman."

I sat up, clutching the blanket to me, for it was freezing, even with Tray's warmth beside me. "How's she doing that?"

"She didn't say. But you should get up. I don't want to have to go back upon beach again."

I felt so guilty then that I got up, Tray barking his joy. And I was relieved too. After a day in bed it had got dull, but I felt like I needed someone to tell me to get up before I would do it.

I got dressed and took my hammer and basket and called to Tray, who had stayed with me while I was abed and was eager to get outside. When Colonel Birch give him to me, just before he left Lyme forever, he promised that Tray would be faithful to me. He'd been right.

I stepped outside, my breath turning to fog round my face, it was so cold. The grey sky threatened snow. The tide was in, and Black Ven and Charmouth cut off, so I went the other way, where a narrow strip of land would still be uncovered by the cliffs at Monmouth Beach. Though I had rarely found monsters in those cliffs, sometimes I carted back giant ammonites, like them that were embedded in the Ammo Graveyard, but prised loose from the cliff layers. Tray run ahead of me along the Walk, his claws clicking on the frozen ice. Sometimes he come back to sniff at me and make sure I was following and not going back home. It felt good to be outside, no matter the cold. It was as if I had emerged from a fuzzy fever into a hard, crisp world.

When I drew opposite the end of the Cobb, I saw the Unity docked there, being loaded for a journey. This weren't unusual, but what caught my eye amongst all the men rus.h.i.+ng about were the silhouettes of three women-two wearing bonnets, the third an unmistakable turban stuck with feathers.

Tray come running back, barking at me. "Shh, Tray, hush now." I grabbed him, fearful they would look over and see me, and I ducked behind an overturned rowboat used to ferry people out to anch.o.r.ed s.h.i.+ps.

I was too far away to make out the Philpot sisters' faces, but I could see Miss Margaret handing something to Miss Elizabeth, which she put in her pocket. Then there were hugs and kisses, and Miss Elizabeth took a step away from her sisters, and there was a break in the men running up and down the plank that led on board, and then she was walking up it, and then she was standing on deck.

I couldn't recall Miss Elizabeth ever going on a s.h.i.+p or even a little boat, despite living by the sea and hunting so often on its beaches. Nor had I but once or twice, for that matter. Though they could go by s.h.i.+p to London, the Philpots always chose to go by coach. Some people are meant for water, others land. We were land people.

I wanted to run along the Cobb and call out to them, but I didn't. I stayed behind the rowboat, Tray whining at my feet, and watched as the crew of the Unity unfurled the huge sails and cast off. Miss Elizabeth stood on deck, a brave, straight figure in a grey cloak and purple bonnet. I had seen s.h.i.+ps leave Lyme many times, but not with someone on board who meant so much to me. Suddenly the sea seemed a treacherous place. I recalled Lady Jackson's body washed up from a s.h.i.+pwreck years before, and wanted to call out for Miss Elizabeth to come back, but it was too late.

I tried not to fret, but to go about my business. I did not look in the papers for news of s.h.i.+pwrecks, nor word of the plesiosaurus' arrival in London, nor of Monsieur Cuvier's doubts about it. This last I knew was not likely to be in the papers, as not being important to most. There were times I wished the Western Flying Post would reflect what mattered to me. I wanted to see announcements like "Miss Elizabeth Philpot Safely Arrived in London"; "Geological Society Celebrates Lyme Plesiosaurus"; "Monsieur Cuvier Confirms Miss Anning Has Discovered a New Animal."

One afternoon I run into Miss Margaret outside the a.s.sembly Rooms, going in to play whist, for even in winter they played cards there once a week. Despite the cold she wore one of her outdated feathered turbans, which made her look the part of an aging eccentric spinster with a strange hat. Even I thought that, who had admired Miss Margaret all my life.

When I wished her good day, she started like a dog when its tail is trodden on. "Have you-have you heard from Miss Elizabeth?" I asked.

Miss Margaret give me a funny look. "How did you know she was away?"

I did not say I had seen her s.h.i.+p embark. "Everybody knows. Lyme's small for secrets."

Miss Margaret sighed. "We've not had a letter, but the post has not got through for three days, the roads are so bad. No one has had letters. However, a neighbour has just ridden from Yeovil and brought a new Post. There is news that the Dispatch ran aground near Ramsgate. That is the s.h.i.+p before Elizabeth's." She s.h.i.+vered, the ostrich feathers in her turban quivering.

"The Dispatch?" I cried. "But the plesiosaurus is on it! What happened to it?" I had a horrible vision of my beast sinking to the seabed and being lost to us forever-all of my hard work, as well as the one hundred pounds from the Duke of Buckingham, gone.

Miss Margaret frowned. "The paper said both pa.s.sengers and cargo are safe and are being transported to London by land. There's no need to fret-though you might have a thought for those on board first rather than the cargo, however precious it is to you."

"Of course, Miss Margaret. Of course I'm thinking of the people. G.o.d bless them all. But I do wonder where my-the Duke's-plesie is."

"And I wonder where Elizabeth is," Miss Margaret added, tears welling. "I still feel we should never have let her onto that s.h.i.+p. If it is so easy to run aground as the Dispatch did, what might have happened to the Unity?" Now she was weeping, and I patted her shoulder. She did not want comfort from me, though, and pulled away, glaring. "Elizabeth would never have gone if it hadn't been for you!" she cried, before turning on her heel and hurrying into the a.s.sembly Rooms.

"What do you mean?" I called after her. "I don't understand, Miss Margaret!" I couldn't follow her into the rooms, however. They were not for the likes of me, and the men standing in the doorway gave me unfriendly looks. I lingered near by, hoping to catch a glimpse of Miss Margaret in the bay window, but she did not appear.

That was the first I knew that Miss Elizabeth went to London on account of me. But I didn't know why until Miss Louise come to explain. She rarely visited to our house, preferring living plants to fossils. But two days after I met Miss Margaret she appeared at the workshop door, ducking her head because she was so tall. I was cleaning a small ichthyosaurus I'd found just before discovering the plesie. It weren't complete-the skull was in fragments and there were no paddles-but the spine and ribs were in a good state. "Don't get up," Miss Louise said, but I insisted on clearing a stool of bits of rock and wiping it clean before she sat down. Tray come then and lay on her feet. She did not speak right away-Miss Louise never were a talker-but studied the heaps of rocks ranged round her on the floor, all containing fossils waiting to be cleaned. Though I always had specimens all round me, now there were even more from waiting while I had been getting the plesie ready. She said nothing about the mess, or the film of blue dust covering everything. Others might have, but I suppose she was used to dirt from her gardening, and from Miss Elizabeth's fossils.

"Margaret told me she saw you and you wanted to know about our sister. We had a letter from her today, and she has arrived safe at our brother's in London."

"Oh, I'm so glad! But-Miss Margaret said Miss Elizabeth went to London for me. Why?"

"She was planning to go to the Geological Society meeting and ask the men there to support you against Baron Cuvier's claim that you fabricated the plesiosaurus."

I frowned. "How did she know about that?"

Miss Louise hesitated.