Write No Evil （Epistolary） #3
I have also started taking a small entertainment you will approve.
I seem to remember nearly all the words of most books I read, so I simply sat down on the beach one day and started reading aloud from memory.
Within half an hour I was surrounded by children, all just eager for the next part of the story.
Both Anne and I found it entirely suitable entertainment, and the children were vastly pleased as well.
We have now made a custom of doing this every Sunday afternoon, and also a few times during the week.
It seems to be the one time when everyone around me can forget that I am blind, and I am indebted to Anne for giving me this opportunity.
We have even made a few forays into local society.
Without Lady Catherine, Anne can insinuate herself easily and unobtrusively, so long as we do not take on any particular airs.
The Prince Regent comes to this area frequently, so we are just two more innocuous gentlewomen, enjoying our time and not making a great impression on the town.
There are a lot of soldiers and a naval port, but they are on the other side of town and we mostly ignore them, aside from exerting the usual cautions.
Anne has even been known to engage in a few dances.
For obvious reasons, I have not managed to do the same, but I still find the conversation, the music, and the entertainment at the local assemblies amusing and we never miss one.
We do have to be more careful here than we would at home because the town is notorious for rakes, gamblers, and other assorted vermin.
Anne and I are always accompanied by at least one and usually two stout footmen.
The two Lady Catherine sent along primarily for our protection are both well-read and clever, and excellent company.
We would never let Lady Catherine catch us in serious conversation with a footman, but she is not here, is she?
One of them even takes an occasional turn at reading to me, which I very much appreciate.
Tomorrow, we take a small ship that will go out to sea for an hour or so and then circle back. It is to be a pleasure trip, organised by a local matron who has taken us under her wing. I have never been on a ship, so I hope my stomach does not disappoint me by thinking it is in a carriage.
Wish me luck,
Lizzy
~~~
1 August 1811
My Dearest Jane,
I can report for an absolute fact that the age-old philosophers’ debate about whether heaven exists has been entirely resolved.
It does exist, and it can be found twenty feet above the deck of a ship.
It is called a ‘Crow’s Nest,’ and it is heaven on earth.
It is a half barrel attached to the top of a mast, and I cannot begin to describe how much I enjoy the place.
It makes the coach ride seem tepid by comparison.
It has a bit of an odd motion that makes sighted people ill, so most sailors consider duty there a punishment, but I cannot get enough—though I would obviously be worthless as a lookout.
Naturally, you may wonder how a blind woman managed to get to a crow’s nest. I will enlighten you…
well, on reflection, I will not. Suffice it to say that the elements of this escapade involve a ship’s captain who is even nearer the edge of insanity than usual, a most unladylike wager between various parties, of which Anne was one, a pair of sailors’ trousers and…
well, that is probably enough. I spent hours up there and believe I will never be happy again if I cannot repeat the experience.
Now, my dear sister, on to more important matters.
I really must insist you tell me about these new gentlemen who showed up mysteriously at Purvis lodge.
I realise, based on your letter, that they are not of very much interest to you as suitors, but having someone new in the neighbourhood must be quite a thrill.
I can imagine Lydia and Kitty in all of their raptures over a couple of new handsome men, even if they are deficient in red coats, and Mama must be in full fettle I would imagine.
I shall expect more details about these thoroughly uninteresting gentlemen in your next letter.
As you know from my last letter, Anne and I were both thoroughly entranced by the sea, so naturally we have decided to take a real voyage.
We enjoyed three short pleasure trips and cannot have enough of it.
Deciding on a greater adventure, we depart for Ireland in a few days.
As reported, Anne fluctuates, but seems more improved than not in the sea air, so she is disinclined to stray far from the ocean.
Her mother agrees with anything that makes her either healthier or happier.
Lady Catherine visited us for a few weeks, but apparently wishes not to intrude on our holiday, and dislikes the seaside anyway; she asserts she would sooner ride tied beneath her carriage than set foot on a ship.
We both love shipboard travel, so once in Ireland, we may elect to spend more time aboard.
With the war raging, the continent is obviously out of bounds, but Britain is after all a chain of islands, so we should be able to find interest around the coast. Ireland, Scotland, and Wales are all readily accessible by ship.
I find it quite convenient to have a nearly unlimited source of money.
All those travelling with us are currently unmarried and unattached, and frankly, everyone in our little band seems to enjoy the travels as much as we.
The duty is light and interesting, as how hard can it be to take care of two ladies.
I have no idea how long we will be away.
Lady Catherine is even quite reasonable about the whole thing, which was at first surprising, but not when one considers a mother’s desire for her child’s happiness.
Anne has had so little true happiness in her life, and I am proud to help her find it.
I have had a letter from Mary, much to my delight. As you know, she is destined to be the first to present a Bennet grandchild. I quite look forward to the news.
I hope this letter finds you well, and naturally I hope it also finds you enroute to Hunsford, where you obviously belong.
I rely on you for a full report of Mary’s condition, as you know she takes her correspondence as seriously as Papa, and I would like news of the coming babe before their wedding day.
I will write from Ireland, but have no idea how well the post works from there. Considering how much Anne and I travel; I shall be quite surprised if your next letter catches up to me before the end of the year.
Your faithful traveller,
Lizzy
~~~
7 December 1811
My Dearest Jane,
My previous reports on the health of my companion Anne may have omitted a salient detail. I mentioned that her overall health, and her breathing, steadily improved under the influence of the sea air. However, I feel remiss not to have mentioned that her sanity is questionable.
As you know, we were scheduled to take a small trip to Ireland. The plan was simple: board a ship, go to Ireland, spend a month or two, and return. However, a mishap at the ticketing office left us firmly ensconced on the wrong ship, a day after ours departed.
Anne looked around the cabin and said, “Probably for the best.”
She was correct. It was in fact for the best. We are both assuredly happy, diverted, and content here in Philadelphia. Lady Catherine may be less sanguine about this minor alteration to our travel plans, but I imagine she will survive it.
The trip took seven weeks, which I understand is typical.
We sailed with Captain Jamison, who we both adore.
It was long enough for me to become thoroughly familiar with the ship’s deck, and the captain even indulged my love for the crow’s nest whenever I liked.
The sailors are all coarse and vulgar men, so naturally Anne and I love them dearly.
They love a good story, so I read to them every evening just after sunset.
The sea has a life and a rhythm that calls to me.
I can quite imagine if I had been a sighted boy I might have gone to sea in my youth and never left.
One of the mates, Mr Johnson, started in this particular ship under Captain Jamison nearly a decade ago as a twelve-year-old ship’s boy.
He has spent his life on this ship, sending most of his pay home to his mother and sisters.
He somehow acquired some education along the way and is surprisingly well-read.
The captain enjoys his books, and constantly trades them along with his cargo, which has given both him and a few of his men surprisingly robust educations.
Of course, they trade in odd port towns, so the collection of things they have studied is quite eclectic and somewhat random.
They listen to my stories in rapt attention, like the rest of the men.
I must say I like everyone on the ship immensely.
Mr Hopkinson even read us some of the captain’s books, much to our enlightenment.
We arrived in Philadelphia just two days ago, and already we feel firmly planted here for the foreseeable future; but of course, the foreseeable future for us usually amounts to around a fortnight.
This place is much like a foreign country, save that they speak English—more or less.
People here do not seem to revere rank, titles, or ancient heritage as at home, but they certainly revere money!
Of course, a country this young would think a century to be an ancient lineage anyway.
Possessing both long lineage and money, plus a certain panache as foreigners—but not ‘too foreign’—the men here are fascinated with Anne…
or at least the fortune hunters are. Of course, a woman who wanders with a blind companion is certain to attract attention as well, so we are quite notable.