Chapter 5
Chapter Five
LETTERS FROM HOME
Dear Richard,
How does my cousin? I do hope you are satisfied with your new posting.
Bermuda might not be the heart of the battle, but from all I have heard, it is a very pleasant place, notwithstanding the hurricanes that are said to beset the islands from time to time.
I trust the fort is sturdy enough—good British engineering and all that—to withstand some fierce winds.
I look forward to your letters describing the place in great detail, should I never be fortunate enough to visit it myself.
Was my uncle most displeased to see you set off from good English shores? You said little about his thoughts before you departed, but he has been most cantankerous these past several months, and I wondered if you had any further insight into this.
I have a great deal of information to relate to you.
Subsequent to our discussions about Georgiana before you left, and in consultation with your esteemed mother, I did withdraw Georgie from school.
The poor girl was miserable there, having sadly shared her brother’s shyness and social inhibitions.
Mrs North suggested engaging a companion and establishing the two in the city where they might enjoy all that London has to offer.
This I have done. I have found a woman reported to be of good character, named Mrs Younge, to guide my sister about Town and introduce her to the people she ought to know.
I am somehow unsettled by this arrangement, although I know not why.
Both Mrs North and your mother approve, and Mrs Younge’s references are excellent.
Perhaps I am uncomfortable at the thought of my sister growing up and taking her place in society.
The two are now settled at my town house until I can make other arrangements for them, and whilst I remain in London, I have taken rooms in the club.
I shall be off to Pemberley soon, to oversee the harvest and arrange the harvest festival for my tenants, and consequently shall not be in residence in Town much longer.
I pray this is the right choice for my sister.
She has seen too much heartache over her short life, and I would long to see her blossom. I hope you approve of this decision.
My other news relates to my friend Bingley.
I trust you remember him—the fellow I know from my days at Cambridge.
You surely recall his sister Louisa, for she once set her cap at you for a few moments before learning you were the second son and not the heir.
A year ago, she married a man named Hurst, whom I had not met before.
He has a small estate in Oxfordshire, and I know not when she lowered her aim from the peerage to mere gentry.
Perhaps the necessities of reality interfered with the dreams of a child of industry overreaching her grasp.
This is surely of great interest to her, but not to you, I imagine.
More relevant is that Bingley’s father recently passed from this earth, leaving his son with a very healthy fortune, which he has invested in the four-percents.
His father’s wishes, and his as well, are for him to buy an estate and move into the ranks of the landed class.
To this end, he has requested my assistance, not this year, perhaps, but in the next twelve months or thereabout.
We shall start the search in earnest next spring.
I have little enough time for the task but shall have to plead my case with Aunt Catherine.
She will not be happy when I tell her I cannot come to Rosings next Easter to help with the accounts.
Her steward is a wise enough man. I shall be too busy running about at Bingley’s behest, looking over dossiers and visiting places I should otherwise never deign to go in the search for the perfect estate for my friend.
If your pen permits, a word to our aunt in favour of my decision would not be unappreciated.
London is beastly hot at this time of the year, and I do long for Pemberley. I shall depart thence on the morrow, after one last visit to my sister and her new companion. I hope they will rub along well, and that we shall have no more trouble from Georgie. May she be happy!
I await your reply,
Your favourite cousin,
F Darcy
October 12, 1810
Darcy,
How good to receive your letter. I hope all is well with Georgie and her new companion.
I well remember my sister’s days as she passed from fourteen to fifteen.
Indeed, my young cousin has her birthday coming soon.
How regretful I am to be so far that I cannot spend it with her.
I have found some excellent craftsmen on this island, and I am enclosing for her a small gift, which I hope she will enjoy.
Wish her a very happy fifteenth birthday from her long-distant relation.
I have written to Aunt Catherine, as you suggested, and expressed my great respect and admiration at your determination to assist Bingley in his search for an estate.
Indeed, how could I forget the man, with such beasts as sisters as he possesses?
I am well pleased the older has wed and that I am now safe from her grasp.
I assume the younger will look right past me, with no title and no fortune to my name.
However did the brother escape the forces that created such harpies as sisters?
For if memory serves, he is the pleasantest and most willing to be pleased man that ever I have met.
I have not yet had a response from our dear aunt, for time has not allowed it.
However, I implied that Father commended your decision to leave Rosings’ accounts to the steward for this year, and she will not counter his wishes.
It must make life simpler to be an earl and have everyone bow to your bidding.
I wish you luck in your search for a fine place for your friend to call home.
I have come to be pleased with my posting at the Royal Naval Dockyard here in Bermuda.
The construction efforts are endless, and every time one structure nears completion, the crews start on something completely different.
I often do not know what I shall discover when I return to the fort after a half day away.
Colonel Barrow is a good and decent man, and a fine soldier.
For some reason, however, he is not popular with the men and with his subordinate officers.
Perhaps it is because he has little patience for the card games that the men seem to enjoy, and he bans them from the garrison.
This deters no one, however, and the men merely travel to the nearest village with a pub, there to pursue their gambling.
I, too, seem to be looked at with some great suspicion, since I am relatively new to the island and was promoted over some of the men who had expected to rise to my position.
I know that if I were to enter into their gaming, I might be more accepted as one of the assembly, but as you well know, I have little patience for wagering and I believe a great deal of money is won and lost when they play.
Still, I am here as an officer and not as their friend, and I must be satisfied with this lot.
For the most part, the company seem to be decent fellows, their propensity for cards aside.
Many are like myself—younger sons of the aristocracy forced to find their own way in the world.
Others are gentry, likewise deprived of their estates by the inconveniences of birth, and these men are often better educated and of better understanding than our supposed peers.
There ought, perhaps, to be ready companionship amongst these men, if not for their dislike for the nature of my posting here.
Some are more inclined to be friendly, whereas others have already developed a deep antagonism towards me.
Perhaps, if I prove myself a fair and hard-working officer, this will improve.
I have, however, found great pleasure in the company of Colonel Barrow. He understands the situation in which I find myself, and he is an educated man of integrity and good sense, and I believe I shall be satisfied with his company even if I am excluded from the friendship of the others.
But let me turn to more pleasant accounts.
There is a good deal of diversion in these parts.
The area of the dockyard, once cleared of the endless activity of building what will be a magnificent set of fortifications, is a natural paradise, and I have spent many hours in its exploration.
The ocean here is stunning in the clarity of the water and its brilliant blue colour.
Some of the beaches in the vicinity are a delicate pink, and the juxtaposition of the two shades is strikingly beautiful, even for an old and jaded soldier like myself.
I find that I can spend hours just sitting on a rock by such a beach, or wandering its length, at times removing my shoes and hose and wading in the crystal-blue waters.
Perhaps there is something of the poet in my soul after all.
The village of Somerset, just three miles distant, has all a man can want for his everyday needs, and Hamilton is a boat ride across the harbour.
This is the largest community in these islands, although not the capital, and is home to some very good families.
I have not yet received an invitation there to dine, but Colonel Barrow has indicated that such invitations will come in time.
Closer to home, the colonel’s wife from time to time arranges a social evening for the officers and good families in the area, and I have attended two musical evenings which she has graciously hosted.