Chapter 15 #2
They set off on a bright Tuesday morning.
The colonel proved himself to be an easy travelling companion with a fund of interesting conversation about his travels in Spain and Portugal.
Mr Gardiner had considerable interests in the Oporto wine trade, and their mutual familiarity with the country soon broke down any reserve there might have been.
Elizabeth had been slightly worried that the colonel might not have taken to a man, no matter how gentlemanly his bearing and behaviour, who made his living from trade.
Mrs Gardiner’s correspondent in Lambton had informed her that the colonel’s father, and consequently her husband’s uncle, was the Earl of Matlock, and many men in the same position as the Honourable Henry Fitzwilliam would have been much less friendly and conversable than the colonel.
As she wrote to her husband in the latest portion of her letter/journal,
Your cousin has been all that is helpful and courteous and has made what might well have proved an uncomfortable journey almost pleasant. My father wrote that every travelling party should include a naval officer, to which I can add that an army officer is of equal utility.
They were having breakfast at an inn on the morning before they were to arrive at Pemberley when the colonel attempted to prepare her for what she would find.
“The house and grounds, while not much damaged by the fire, have been neglected for many years.
It appears that my late cousin preferred to hoard his rents rather than spend them on those repairs necessary for every great house, nor did he spend anything on modernising it.
“The prospect and situation are undeniably fine, but there is much that needs to be done to the house, and to the estate as a whole. Luckily, there appear to be considerable monies available for the work, but you are likely to be assailed on all sides by the tenantry who have been unable to undertake any improvements or even repairs.”
He paused and appeared to be choosing his words carefully.
“My father is an excellent gentleman in every respect, but he is somewhat old-fashioned. For example, he would not have corresponded with your husband whilst he was at odds with the head of his family. My original mission to Hatfield was to obtain your consent to his taking over of the estate until such time as your husband comes home from sea. I knew from the moment we met that this was unlikely to meet with your approval.” Mr Gardiner laughed and the colonel looked a little embarrassed.
“Please do not think that I myself disapprove; having seen the masterly way you ensured Miss Darcy’s peace and safety, I am confident that you are well able to see what must be done and make the necessary decisions.
I have endeavoured to express this to my father, but not having had his reply, I cannot say how successful I have been.
If he appears a little…impatient, I would ask you bear with him, for whatever his manner, his only desire is to be useful to you and your husband. ”
Elizabeth was a little taken aback. “I hope, sir, that I will always know how to distinguish good intentions from bad,” she said.
“And I certainly hope you did not represent me to him as some dreadfully managing termagant. I am well aware that I will need a great deal of help and am only too grateful for any that is offered.”
The colonel looked relieved. “In which case, I have a great pile of papers for you to look at, and it occurs to me that we might as well make a start on them as we drive. I saw yesterday that the motion of the coach does not upset you, and there is a lot to be done. I am sure,” he added with a bow, “that Mr Gardiner’s assistance will be invaluable. ”
So that day, as they drove through the countryside that was just springing into bud, he opened a great bag, and they began on its contents.
There were questions about tenancies unfilled, rivers silted up, legally obligatory bridge and road repairs not undertaken, dozens of tenant requests, and much correspondence from the parish and the county.
It was as much as all three of them could do to arrange them and make memorandum of their contents, and it was obvious that Mr George Darcy had simply let his correspondence accumulate unanswered; many pages were missing their covers, several letters missing one or more pages, and an unpleasant number were stained with food and wine.
This occupied the party for the rest of the day.
They stopped only briefly at noon for a hurried meal, and it was getting late in the afternoon when they finally arrived at Pemberley.
The gatehouse was empty and the road unkempt, but the woods through which they drove were glorious, and Elizabeth breathed in the scent of the new leaves and promised herself hours of happy rambling.
She spun round in her seat as they passed a glade with a carpet of new daffodils and, when she sat back, saw her uncle watching her, his expression affectionate.
Then they turned a corner, and there was the house.
It was not, as Elizabeth had half-expected, in the modern Palladian style, all smooth stone and great symmetrical pillars.
This was an older building from the period when James Stuart first came down from Scotland, and it was wholly beautiful, from the barley-sugar twist chimneys, past the many-paned windows, to the overgrown knot garden in front, the whole built in a golden stone that caught the setting sun.
The colonel rapped on the carriage roof and ordered a halt so that she could drink it in. “I was afraid you might find it old-fashioned,” he said softly.
“No,” she breathed. “I find it…” She struggled for words before choosing, “magnificent.” She saw him heave a sigh of relief.
“So many people are prey to the mania for improvement,” he said, “I last saw it as a boy at your father-in-law’s funeral, and I thought then it was a jewel.” He rapped on the roof again, and they drove down to the stable courtyard.
Closer to the house, the years of neglect were more visible.
Grass grew between the cobbles in the yard, and there were slates, or rather great sheets of stone, missing from the stable roofs.
The house too showed signs of unrepaired damage, windows had been boarded over, and some were entirely blocked by ivy.
As she endeavoured to explain in her letter,
Your cousin thinks I am dazzled, and I am, but not so dazzled that I do not see that there is much work to be done.
We will start tomorrow to assess the damage.
However, none of it detracts from the beauty.
The house is like a handsome woman who has let her face grow dirty and her clothes ragged; it is all on the surface, and underneath there is such loveliness.
I know no decision has been made as to what to do with the house, and while I cannot conceive of anyone willingly selling such a place, I know that decision rests with you.
However, even if you are minded to sell, the property will fetch a much higher sum if it is in good order, and I have resolved to do my utmost to bring it to such a condition.
That night they slept in three of the guest bedrooms, well away from the room where the fire had taken place. Servants were there from the Matlock family home at Alfreton, and they had done their best in the time available, though they were few and there was much that needed doing.
Lord Matlock drove over in time for breakfast the next morning, and Elizabeth could see how easily his manner might have been misunderstood.
Your uncle was indeed a little brusque when he arrived, and if it had not been for the colonel’s warning, I might well have taken it amiss.
However, once I expressed my gratitude for his help and requested his further counsel, he hemmed and hawed once or twice, and we soon became the best of friends.
He is astonishingly like you, you know. He has your height and, although it is more grey than black, your hair.
I wonder where the colonel’s red curls come from.
The first order of business was the house.
Apart from anything else, Georgiana was anxious to return to her childhood home, especially now that the source of all its unpleasant memories was gone.
Remembering the few times her sister had spoken of Pemberley, Elizabeth enquired whether the former housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, was still to be found in the area.
Mr Gardiner tracked her to her brother’s farm on the other side of Lambton, and Elizabeth persuaded her to return and help set the house to rights.
In Mrs Reynolds’ wake came a growing stream of former servants, discharged by the late owner but willing to return.
Mr Gardiner reduced the household’s books to something like order, and Elizabeth was able to access the funds that had been hoarded and set them to work.
Craftsmen came from nearby towns and started upon the repairs, the ivy was carefully torn away, and the house began to shine once more.
The master’s apartments were stripped to the rafters and joists and the whole remade so that most of the former bedroom became the dressing room and other offices.
As predicted, the tenants soon began to arrive, and Elizabeth had to beg for their patience.
At Mr Gardiner’s suggestion, she sent for Mr Lester, who rode the estate for her and made up a schedule of the most urgent works for her to inspect.
The colonel drove out with her, Mr Gardiner making one of the party for propriety’s sake, although as he pointed out himself, the countryside was by no means his metier.
There was some grumbling, especially from those tenants whose concerns were not to be immediately addressed; however, a meeting of the tenantry was called at which Lord Matlock presided, and the grumbling largely subsided.