23 – Snippets of a Physician’s Memoirs
November 27, 1817 Pemberley My grand-nephew has finally arrived safely! Oh, what a blessed day! I am walking on clouds, Jharna. All transpired as it should, nearly textbook perfection. Elizabeth was simply marvelous. Brave, focused, strong, and lucky. Births are always a frightening event. I have seen so many go terribly wrong, where even my expertise was of no use. I feared this greatly, as you know my dear lover. E has become so dear to me and knowing how essential she is to W’s happiness and, I fear, sanity, had me very afraid of how horrible it would be on all of us if anything went wrong. Thankfully, praises to God, all is well. William surpassed even my expectations. He sweated quite a bit and if his jaws do not pain him for the next week I shall be shocked, but aside from those outward physical manifestations he was calm and strong. It is so beautiful to observe such unity of purpose. These two continue to astound me in their devotion and accord. I am so very proud of my nephew and further delighted to be a part of this exceptional family. Very well, Jharna, I shall say it….We Darcys are wonderful! In the blood, I daresay. Alexander is a beautiful baby. This I can state emphatically and with all honesty. You would scold me, Jharna, when I spoke of ugly babies. As a woman you thought all infants gorgeous, but I always insisted that was not the case! Alexander is truly adorable. Of course, we Darcys are a handsome bunch, so I was not too surprised. Laugh if you wish, but you know it to be true. He looks very like his father, but of course infant features radically change over time, so we shall see. I was quite pleased to note he has curly brown hair. Of course, he could very well inherit this from his mother, but I believe I shall claim it as a likeness to his favored uncle! How pleased I was to hear he was to be named as my beloved twin! I realize it is not a direct homage as W never knew his uncle, but just 363
having the name alive and gifted to another soul is thrilling to me. Some, those superstition folk, would deem it a bad omen or ill-luck. I do not believe this at all. My Alex was a remarkable person, full of life and love. I am fully aware that this Alexander is unique, but there is a sense of continuity and blessing to it. I cannot precisely place it into words, but it is a comfort. Additionally, W whispered to me as I was departing the scene that they are also naming him George! I nearly burst into tears! Even now, hours later, I am overcome. Perhaps I need sleep. It has been a very long day. Yes, surely that is it. I think I shall check on E again and then retire for the night. Emotions are taking hold and that cannot be! December 4 Pemberley I have been sitting here for a full fifteen minutes, unable to clarify my churning thoughts. As benumbed with emotion as I am, I do believe I have rarely felt so happy and content. I just came from the library where W accosted me for a pointed chat. Jharna, you know how I have struggled with my innermost feelings these past months. Ga! Years, actually. The need to be home, to find a family that I was not sure was available to me, has burned inside for so very long. I have missed you so much, my dear love, and often did not honestly know if it was merely grief and loneliness that drove me or an honest affection for these people who have become so central to me. Was my growing love for them in any way false? Everyone in my existence whom I knew I could rely on was gone. Would the remaining Darcys fill that void or was I wishing for something that could never be? I have tarried in a place of joyous relaxation, wallowing in the comforts of my ancestral home and the acceptance that has surrounded me, yet always with a slight reserve. Afraid to give in totally to the love I felt for William and Elizabeth and my sweet Georgie. Afraid to embrace life at Pemberley. How does one utterly reinvent their life and focus at my age? Yes, even I, who trod through jungles teeming with hazards and embarked upon life-saving excursions to the farthest reaches of the East, knew fear. What a bitter tonic to swallow! Yet all that doubt and fear was wiped away in a second. All it took was William expressing his love for me in direct words and furthermore asking, nay, begging, that I not leave! His words precisely, as I will never 364
forget them, were, “I need to tell you in the clearest words imaginable that the heartfelt wish of us all is that you would chose to reside here forever. Simply put, I do not want to lose you.” Tears yet again! Arch!! Old age is creeping! Cloying sentimentalism indeed! We Darcys seem to be a romantic bunch for all our strength and proper character. And then the moment that truly sent me over the edge and sealed my fate: W and E have asked me to be Alexander’s godfather. Of all the possible imaginings that have flit through my brain, this one was an utterly unprecedented surprise! Knowing William’s strong religious convictions, his protectiveness for his family, and serious nature…..well, I am overwhelmed. And honored beyond comprehension. I cannot write of it anymore. So, it is decided, and I cannot adequately convey even in my trusted journal how deeply moved I am. And relieved! Frankly, the thought of another sea voyage around the Cape of Good Hope was more than I could fathom. I truly think I would have slunk off to hang a shingle in some obscure English village before doing that. I will need to wait a bit, allow this sudden change in my fortune to sink in before I decide my full course of action. I was very impressed with the small hospital in Matlock. Frankly, they could use a man like me as the physicians who deign to work there are not extremely knowledgeable. It might be nice to try doctoring in a more traditional manner. Make house calls and all that. Not sure how W would feel to having messengers banging on the door as all hours of the day, so a system will need to be arranged. Perhaps I could teach. I have enjoyed mentoring the handful of worthy neophytes, such as Raja, who have come my way. For now, however, I will simply bask in the glow of being loved and needed. December 15 Pemberley The Bennets arrived today. Amazing how the addition of five souls livens up the Manor! I believe Col. Fitzwilliam and the Matlocks will be arriving in a few days, and naturally the Bingleys will be joining us at some point. Also Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are possibly expected soon. I do hope so as I found them both to be delightful folk when I met them in London. Naturally Alexander was the center of attention, a position he assumed with aplomb. He is an extremely temperate infant, scarily so. Oh, that is not to say he has not had his moments of serious temper! Just 365
two nights ago I was awoken at the inhuman hour of two-thirty in the morning with W nearly ripping his hair in worry over a bout of colic! I brewed a tonic that may help the accumulated gas, but is more to soothe fretful parents as they feel they are proactively solving the problem. Still, these miniscule tantrums aside, he is a serene infant. I do not know if he will remain so, but I am guessing it is probable. W was such a baby. I do recall this, not that I was about all that often. But James spoke of it, especially as it was a stark contrast to their firstborn, Alexandria. Of course, therein lays the humor of the situation. James and Anne knew how fortunate they were to have a complacent baby, whereas W and E will be fooled into thinking all infants are so mild mannered. Woe to them if their next is of a different temperament! Not that I am wishing such drama upon their lives, but it will be amusing to witness! December 24 Pemberley Christmas Eve. Have I written enough declarations of how stupendous it is to be home for the holidays? Or how fabulous Pemberley is adorned? The answer is yes, but I am compelled to gush once again. I truly cannot recall the Manor ever appearing so festive and glittering. I am sure that it was as my parents loved the season, but I suppose one takes these things for granted when in their youth. The Christmas celebrations among the English and other Christian residents in India were rather subdued in general. Mistletoe and holly are nonexistent, for one thing, so it has been decades since I have reveled in the merry atmosphere surrounding Christ’s birth. All the Darcy heirlooms are in place as I remember them, mistletoe ornaments are literally at every corridor intersection, and I expect the entire forest is stripped of all greenery. The smell of pine is almost overwhelming! To top it all off, Mrs. Langton and her remarkable staff have been serving a plethora of edible delights that defy all logic in their sumptuousness. I have nearly eaten myself sick several times each day. Thankfully I am keeping myself active with the numerous entertainments to be found both within and without or I would likely weight three-hundred pounds. My rusty tennis skills are honing rapidly with the constant challenges. My dear Georgie and Miss Kitty are excellent players, but it is Col. Fitzwilliam who has presented the greatest contest. I tease him that with peace prevailing, our soldiers have nothing better to do than play 366
games! He retaliates by thrashing me soundly in all manner of athletic pursuits. The good colonel is quite proficient. W and I continue our lessons in thang-ta. His command of a sword is impressive as it is and with learning Indian martial art techniques he soon will be formidable. As in everything my nephew takes an interest in, his ready aptitude and intent focus staggers me. He still prefers to concentrate on the sword dance rather than wielding a spear, but he is learning. Mainly I enjoy the opportunity to spent time with him, and we both relish the physical exercise. My pachisi and carom boards are being used frequently, but with so many other diversions it is often difficult to find free persons to play with. It is no surprise that I prefer to stay indoors. It may take several years for my India thinned English blood to thicken adequately enough to tolerate the harsh climates again. E teases that I am surely going to burst into flames as I sit so near the roaring fireplaces, but I cannot seem to stay warm. I have allowed Mr. Gardiner to persuade me to accompany him to the lake a time or two, and have skated once, to my severe humiliation as I have lost all traces of skill and grace on a blade. You never could grasp the concept of floating over ice, Jharna, and now after all these years I think I concur with your assessment that it is unnatural and ridiculous! Us manly men have embarked on the obligatory horseback rides and hunts a number of times. Of course, in this one sport I gleefully engage, far too stimulated to feel the bitter cold too profoundly. Not that a hot beverage, preferably alcoholic, sipped beside a fire is not appreciated upon my return. Aside from these excursions I have kept insulated inside Pemberley, happily embracing woolen suits for the time being. E was in a particularly jolly mood today. I noted the anticipatory gleam in her eye; a gleam that was innocently absent in W’s, therefore I was not too surprised when she whisked him off immediately after dinner never to be seen again. My naughty mind assumes she has decided to act upon the information I imparted two days ago, plotting an early Christmas present for my fortunate nephew. I fully expect to encounter a frankly radiant and satisfied nephew in the morning, and a smug niece. I feel a bit like a child again. Sitting here in my comfortable chambers with the fire blazing, sipping cocoa, and writing in my journal, but sensing the urgency to retire so that the morning will speedily arrive! I do believe that Christmas Eve was the only night of the year that Alex and I would not sneak into James or Estella’s rooms after our scheduled 367
bedtime. I know for cert that I could add up all the gifts I have received for the past ten years and it would not equal what sits addressed to me in the parlor. Took all the reserve at my disposal to not examine and shake each one! So, off to bed for me. Good-night, sweet lover. No matter how many lovely presents I receive I will still miss the one gifted by you every year in honor of my beliefs. December 29 Pemberley W has been gone for four days now without word beyond the initial note assuring his safe arrival. Poor boy. We are not overly worried at receiving no further messages, well aware of how busy he must be. And now a blizzard has struck, so it may be days before he and the Colonel are able to make their way home. Or rather it probably should be days before they make it home as the snow is falling in massive amounts, but knowing the stubbornness of my nephew I judge he will be pushing through every snow bank with determination! Actually, that worries me more than anything. E was especially quiet this evening. She spoke not of her husband’s absence and none of us advanced the subject, yet it was quite clear how distressed she was. Like me, E knows of William’s occasional rashness, especially where his family is concerned, so my guess is that her thoughts are tortured from both angles. I forgot to mention that yesterday was to be Alexander’s christening. Naturally the date was postponed with W leaving. We went to church as usual, E staying home with the baby, all of our thoughts on what the day was supposed to entail and our hearts heavy accordingly. Actually, another week is a good thing, giving Alexander more time to mature. He certainly appears hale enough, but one can never be too cautious with newborns. One positive to the postponement is that I can add a few finishing touches to the elephant. He looks fine, but my perfectionism keeps me adding additional embellishments. I probably should quit looking at him or I will just end up messing him up. How many times did that happen, Jharna, usually because I would not heed your caution? No, I shall not answer that question! Aside from W’s abrupt departure, the days have passed pleasantly enough. The festive atmosphere is too strong to be dissipated by a tragedy miles away. I am currently writing with my new steel tipped pens! I have been practicing on spare pieces of parchment before applying them 368
to my treasured journal. They hold the ink differently and have an unusual feel in my fingers, but I have finally gotten proficient enough to not fear blotching the pages. Unfortunately the hunt planned with Mr. Vernor and Mr. Hughes was cancelled due to this blasted foul weather! Guess my new saddle will need to wait a bit longer to be broken in. Perhaps it is just as well as my derrière and thighs are yet sore from the day after Christmas! I appreciate the gift, but must confess that I had forgotten how long it takes for a new saddle to loosen and form to one’s individual figure. This blizzard rivals any storm I recollect hitting Derbyshire. I am sure there have been other storms of this degree, but I was thankfully either absent for it or too young. Of course, when I was in my youth I relished the snow and lightning storms. Thought all of it was tremendously exciting with no concept of the damage done or potential catastrophe. I do remember one severe lightning storm when I was perhaps 10 or 11. I am not really sure, but Alex was alive so it must have been about then. Anyway, we children sat glued to the parlor windows in fascination, watching the rain pour in solid sheets, and counting the second or two between the lightning and deafening thunder with squeals of delight. Father stood behind us tense and grim, staring into the hazy grey landscape and jerking whenever a noise arose. None of us understood his posture, or thought of it much, until Mary finally asked him what was wrong. She, of course, sat huddled with mother, eyes round with fear and body trembling. Father replied in his rough voice that he was watching for a burst of flames from any of the outbuildings or trees. Alex, Estella, and I just laughed, but James was quieter after that and did not clap as enthusiastically. Thankfully nothing occurred on our lands, but there were fires in the forest and Mr. Vernor lost one of his barns. I still always thrill at the electric excitement of a lightning storm, but no longer blithely consider it just an amusement. Dinner has been announced so I will close this entry for now. We remaining men-folk are planning a billiard tournament of sorts for later. Will not be quite the same without William participating, although perhaps I shall have the opportunity to win a game for a change! Until later, or more likely tomorrow since I doubt I shall be sober enough to write before bed, I say my adieus dear Jharna. January 10, 1818 Pemberley 369
Finally done! It has taken me days to get the details written for posterity’s sake. Now that Pemberley is again calm, with all visitors departed, I have fulfilled my self-appointed duty as historian. These past days, be honest George, weeks, have been delightfully hectic and I have not attended to these pages with my usual diligence. Please forgive me, Jharna. Yet now that I have recorded the facts of the christening and Christmas and the masque, I am not yet content. Reading over them I discern the haste in the writing, the lack of my usual humor and personality and musings as I jotted the necessary details. Time to fill up pages with my useless ramblings! Ha!! Well, it is MY book, and considering my arrogance in assuming that someone will someday care to read what I had to say, I am obligated to ruminate further. Or perhaps I am simply bored. It is very quiet around here with the Bennets departed and Col. Fitzwilliam as well. W has insisted that G resume her study schedule, and the baby takes up much of E’s time, so I am often left to my own devices. I suppose I had forgotten how serene it is in Derbyshire during the winter. Of course, when I was a child I had my siblings to keep me company, but gradually they moved on and in my adolescence there were years of just me. Well, Phillip was there, but he was monumentally boring so barely counted. Yes, I do recall endless days of staring upon snowcaked landscapes as my tutor, Mr. Averson, droned on and on. A large part of it, I now realize, is my preference for warm weather. Even with all the fond memories of skating and sledding, I much prefer swimming in the pond, fishing and hunting, and riding. Those are the memories that loom grandest in my mind. So, I will content myself with reading before a warm fire while sipping fine whiskey or cocoa until the spring thaws. Fortunately W is not too busy this time of the year either. He does manage to spend inordinate amounts of time at the stables, but other than that he appears to have relaxed into a pose of laziness. Of course, W can tolerate boredom for only short periods of time before he ropes me into a bout of fencing, billiards, racquets, or something to work up a sweat. Thus with the good comes the bad! I now have muscles in places even I did not know muscles existed. Nonetheless, we will have over a month of laying about before our planned journey to Hertfordshire and Kent for the weddings. But, I am getting ahead of myself! I shall write of those events as they unfold. Yes, it is quiet now. The Bennets left two days ago. It was clear that Mr. Daniels and his betrothed were anxious to leave. I have never seen a bride-to-be less nervous than Miss Bennet. Rather she spoke 370
calmly of the necessary pre-marital tasks with all the logic of a businessman! Mrs. Bennet possesses a personality nervous enough for the lot of them, I suppose. I shall miss chess and conversation with Mr. Bennet, and do hope we manage some time for quieter pursuits in February. Ah, here I go again, thinking ahead when the here and now is so pleasant. Focus man! The Cole’s Masque appears to have been a stunning success from all accounts. G has already received three engagements for teas, a development that has given W something new to frown about. I wrote about the numerous conquests of both G and Miss Kitty, but not of W’s response to the information. My poor niece tried to hedge, played the entire spectacle down, but Miss Kitty was far too effusive. I daresay I and the Colonel did not help matters, and I think she was near to strangling us all! One of the few times I have ever seen my sweet Georgie in a temper or irritated with her friend. W glowered from the corner, growing quieter and stiffer as the stories unfolded. What a hoot! I must confess I am thankful for the stabilizing, rational voice that is Elizabeth. I truly do shudder to imagine how G’s steps into womanhood would be handled with only her rigid and severely controlling brother to supervise matters. E watched her husband closely through the entire rehash of ball events and although I have not a clue as to what passed between them, by the next day W’s face was not as tight and he has allowed G to accept the invitations. Now, whether her positive influence will sway him to permit a summer visitation to Lord Stevenage’s manor in Hertfordshire with Miss Kitty I have no idea. The girls were all atwitter about that development, Miss Stolesk and Lady Alicia wasting no time in accosting their fathers about the invitation. As luck would have it I was conversing with my old friend Harold Stolesk and Lord Stevenage when the young ladies broached the subject. Apparently they were quite captivated with my niece and her friend, a sentiment I can readily comprehend. Kitty was glittering and dimpled, bouncing on her toes in anticipation, whereas G stood sedately with nervous glances my direction. We spoke of it briefly on the ride home, G clearly thrilled at the concept of a summer holiday elsewhere, but certain that W would never allow it. In truth, I believe she is correct. Fortunately I too have received an invitation to the Nash estate, so perhaps I can act as chaperone. Do not laugh Jharna! I can be a responsible adult when forced. For the time being I told both girls to keep it quiet. W knows Mr. Stolesk very well and is acquainted with Lord 371
Stevenage, which will hopefully predispose him to say yes. Ultimately it is his decision, naturally, but I judge it a beneficial growing experience and will offer my view on the matter, for what that is worth. Perhaps my status as Darcy godfather will lend credibility to my opinion. Col. Fitzwilliam was favorable and as guardian he has a certain amount of clout. It was such a joy to watch Georgiana. Oh, how like Anne she is! So beautiful and naturally graceful. Every male eye in the place followed her, yet she is innocently unaware of how incredible she is. My joy is in knowing that I will be here to observe her maturing and partake in her future. I have no idea what that future will be, but I sense that it shall be amazing. I feel so blessed. Miss Kitty is simply an adorable young lady. She charms naturally, but there is frivolousness to her personality that I fear will prevent her transcending. I pray I am in error, but then not all are destined for more than a standard existence. For my final reflection: Col. Fitzwilliam. I have noted something odd, intangible even. The carefree bachelor who casually and gleefully led this older, carefree bachelor on numerous romps through the wild streets of London this August past has inexplicably mellowed. He feigns the same capriciousness, but his heart is unmistakably not in it. He danced less than half the sets and carefully selected undesirable women, dancing twice with his own mother! Not that Lady Matlock is not a beautiful woman, but surely not a chosen partner for a handsome man like the Colonel. Overall he was subdued, hobnobbing with gentlemen for the largest bulk of the night. Quite unusual. I suppose there is a woman involved somewhere, seems to happen to the best of them eventually, but I have no clue who she is. Assuredly no one at the Masque. Whoever she is, I do hope she returns his affection. Richard Fitzwilliam is a dear man, brave and worthy. Any woman would be fortunate to have him as suitor. Another delightful future to observe unfolding! Yes, many favorable reasons to be pleased with my decision to stay in Derbyshire! January 21 Pemberley The Bingleys visited today and brought the most stunning piece of news imaginable! It seems that Miss Bingley is betrothed to none other than Lord Blaisdale of Staffordshire. We were under the impression that she had an understanding of some sort with Sir Dandridge, but 372
apparently it was not sufficiently binding enough to prevent breaking for a larger fish. Lord Blaisdale was at the Cole’s masque, although I did not speak with him which is why I made no previous mention in these pages. I was not even aware that Miss Bingley spoke with him, not that I paid much attention to her whereabouts. I confess I was terribly rude and never asked the lady for a dance. Clearly she suffered no ill effect from my neglect, not that my ego is injured by the fact. Anyway, Mr. Bingley still appeared to be in a daze over the situation. According to him, Lord Blaisdale has called upon Miss Bingley a handful of times since the Masque, wasting no time, obviously, in making his intentions known. He did ostensibly ask permission to court, followed quite rapidly with permission to wed. As much as I adore Mr. Bingley, I rather believe his natural meekness was overwhelmed by Lord Blaisdale’s brash domination. Not that I think he would have refused. It is a far better conquest than I would have suspected Miss Bingley capable of. Forgive me, Lord, for that indelicate statement, but it is only the truth. Frankly I am as dazed as Mr. Bingley. Lord Blaisdale’s reputation is not particularly a praiseworthy one. I hold no great affection for Miss Bingley, but find that I am mildly dismayed by the news. I wonder if she knows what she is marrying into? Then again, perhaps they are too opportunistic rogues made for each other. That appears to be W’s assessment. He said little, as usual, but what words spoken were highly eloquent even without the descriptive cast to his face! Another future to observe with inquisitive interest! Should be amusing if nothing else. Aahh….The excitement of real life! Weddings, babies being born, young love, and my own fresh paths to tread. And here I thought settling at Pemberley would be mundane! Perhaps after the wonders and wilds of India it lacks a certain exotic ambience, but it is far from dreary. What pleasure in life, family, carefree happiness, joie de vivre! I feel young again in the joy of vital life, buoyant and spunky, forever brash and masculine! Are you laughing at me, Jharna? Or smiling with warmth and delight? The latter, I believe, as I feel your devoted presence surrounding, my love. I embrace my future, but am thankful for my past. This, as the poets eloquently expound, is what life is all about.
373
Darcy Family Tree
374
James Darcy, Sr.
Emily Darcy
b. 1718 d. 1798
d. 1784
Mary Darcy b. 1756
James Darcy, Jr. b. 1759 d. 1810
Baron Guenther Oeggl Linz, Austria
Lady Anne Fitzwilliam b. 1764 d. 1804 Estella Darcy b. 1762
Alexandria Darcy b. 1785 d. 1787
Xavier Montrose Fitzwilliam Darcy
Exeter, Devon
b. 1787 George Darcy b. 1767 Alexander Darcy
Elizabeth Bennet b. 1795
b. 1767 d. 1779 Georgiana Darcy b. 1799 Phillip Darcy b. 1775
Fitzwilliam Family Tree
375
Alistair Fitzwilliam
Catherine Fitzwilliam
Earl of Matlock
Countess of Matlock
Lady Catherine Malcolm Fitzwilliam
b. 1756
Earl of Matlock b. 1759
Anne de Bourgh
Jonathan Fitzwilliam b. 1782
b. 1788 Sir Lewis de Bourgh d. 1812
Priscilla Lady Madeline Hami lton
Lady Muriel
Countess of Matlock b. 1762
b. 1762 d. 1803
Lady Cherise Mr. Aaron Griffin
b. 1785
Lady Annabella Lord Montgomery
Mr. James Darcy b. 1759 d. 1810
Timeline 376
Col. Richard Fitzwilliam
b. 1787 d. 1790
Lady Anne b. 1764 d. 1804
b. 1788
b. 1790
1815
1816 September to December Darcy & Bingley at Netherfield Meryton Assembly Jane ill Wickham introduced Lizzy rejects Collins Collins weds Charlotte D & B depart Hertfordshire Jane to London
Summer Months Darcy retreats to Town then Pemberley in grief Lizzy returns to Longbourn Jane back from London Lydia to Brighton
Late September Darcy proposes again and Lizzy says Yes!
April Lizzy visits Charlotte in Kent Darcy & Col. F arrive First Darcy proposal The Letter!
Late Summer to Early Autumn Lizzy & Gardiners to Peak District Darcy meets Lizzy at Pemberley Wickham runs off with Lydia Darcy makes amends Lydia weds Wickham Jane engaged to Bingley
Betrothal Period Jane & Lizzy to London Lizzy meets Matlocks Darcy turns 29 An Intimate Conversation
November 28 Darcys wed Bingleys wed
377
1817 Winter Twelfth Night Masque Meet Lord Orman Curricle lessons Lizzy’s Accident Duel Lizzy is pregnant
December Honeymoon at Pemberley First Christmas
Spring
First Season in Town Lizzy turns 22
Summer Bingleys purchase Hasberry
Lizzy’s accident
First separation
Summer Festival
Duel with Orman Dr. Darcy arrives Mr. Daniels
Georgiana’s trip to Wales Lizzy is pregnant
Preparations for baby Darcy Visit to Hertfordshire
Penaflor Darcys tour Derbyshire Bandit attack
378
Mary meets
Anne meets Dr.
379