Chapter 1. Letter from Marianne Fitzwilliam nee Lennox to Anne deBourgh
Hawkeshead Park, South Yorkshire
18th October 1815
My dearest Anne,
At last we have arrived to Hawkeshead. I thank you for your kind concern, but none of your apprehensions came true, and both Richard and I are in perfect health, ready to settle down in our home. As per you request, I shall endeavour to describe many a beauty of this noble place, although words may prove to be insufficient to communicate what the eyes see. I am determined to produce a sketch of the building and paint some views – for they truly are magnificent – and present them for your disposal, or better yet, you should visit us as soon as the weather and your state of health permit. Surely, Lady Catherine can spare you for a few weeks, say, after Easter? I'm sure Richard would be glad to collect you at Rosings and deliver you here in utmost comfort.
But I digress. Back to the topic at hand. We arrived yesterday, early in the morning, for Richard insisted we stop for a night after leaving Pemberly – for some inexplicable reason he is worried about me getting fatigued. What a silly notion! but being a good wife, I simply nod and smile and say 'Yes, Dearest', for that is what goods little wives do, or so my new Aunt, Lady Brownlow, tells me. I am now quite sure if I would be able to maintain this goodness – you know my argumentative nature. In any case, Richard's decision turned out for the best, for we approached the estate on a bright sunny autumn morning, with hardly a cloud in the sky, so that nothing could spoil the view spreading in front of me. After leaving the inn at a no-name village some ten miles away from the estate, we drove through the most delightful countryside one could imagine… Do not laugh at me, my friend! Ruptures such as these are permissible for a newlywed! After following the road for a while we mounted a hill, and Richard ordered the coachman to stop on the top. Ah, the view took my breath away! The magnificent Classical edifice clad in Portland stone was framed by oranges and yellows of the autumn woods, glowing white in the sunlight against the backdrop of sweeping hills. What I felt… I cannot explain. I simply knew I was home at long last.
After contemplating the view for a few minutes we moved on, down the hill, and to the park gate. I was later told that it was one of the three main gates – the East Gate – granting entrance to the premises for carriages, not to mention some smaller gates and portals for those travelling on foot or horseback. The road from the gate twists among the woods a good deal, each turn showing new beauties, but at last we reached a long straight stretch going along the east front, at the bottom of terraced formal gardens. This is all, my dear, that I am going to say about the grounds at present, even though I know you would prefer that to any pictures of richly furnished rooms and decorations my words could paint – you will have to come and see them for yourself! You do not lose much through my silence, though – this time of year left little to describe.
Having skirted the gardens, we approached the house from the north façade but drove past it to the main entrance in the east front. Richard tells me there are several pretty sitting rooms facing east and south, while the grand reception rooms look to the west, and the north wing is considered primarily male, although I am free to make any alterations I wish, save for the library and his own study. I am not sure I would wish to do so, for whoever decorated and furnished the place before us did so splendidly, so far as I could see yet.
At the entrance we were met by ordered ranks of servants, led by the butler, the bailiff, and the housekeeper. Richard presented them to me, of course, but the names escaped me directly, save for Mrs. Nettles the housekeeper, Dawson the butler, and Mrs. Blye the cook. Mr. Strom the bailiff I knew from before. It seems that I am to follow the example of our cousin the Viscountess – for her any housemaid is Peggy, any footman is John, and any coachman or groom is James. The only servant she recognizes is her lady's maid! I did my best to finish the introductions as soon as possible – the poor people had been shivering outside for a quarter of an hour at least waiting for us to arrive – and so we entered the house proper.
We first stepped into the hall – and what a place it is! I am told it is called the Marble Hall, quite obviously, thanks to the beautiful light-coloured mosaic of marble tiles on its floor and white Corinthian columns of the same materials rising to support the vaulted ceiling of this grand room occupying two floors. The walls are partly painted crimson and partly covered by richly decorated panels, the ceiling – by arches, stucco cornices and other elements. But the most stunning element of the hall is the grand staircase. It truly is fit to be called Imperial! It is comprised of two separate flights, gently rounding from the bottom to join again at the half-landing, only to separate again into two symmetrical flights leading to opposing wings of the house. The stairs are also marble and so are the banisters.
The hall is flanked by reception rooms facing east, two on each side, but the truly grand and formal rooms go out west, and the entrance to the first of them, the Salon, is directly under the staircase landing, which creates very nice symmetry with the bronze statue placed in the niche on the landing. But, let us move on to the Salon. It is a large, high-ceilinged room, with four wide floor-to-ceiling arched windows opening to the west terrace, complete with columns, stucco decorations, gilding and what not. The main colours are white (for panels) and cerulean blue (for medallions of damask). The Salon is, too, flanked by reception rooms: the Grand Drawing Room on the left and the Grand Dining Hall on the right. I shall not tire you with more descriptions, for I plan to alter the rooms completely as soon as possible or, if unable to do so, lock their doors and avoid them, for one would be unable to spend any length of time in the décor such as that without losing one's mind. Having a private dinner at the Dining Hall yesterday was more than enough; any meaningful conversation was quite impossible – every word echoed through the room. For present we shall spend the greatest part of our time in the south and east-facing rooms, I believe. They are somewhat smaller but a lot cozier, despite their old-fashioned decorations, which I fully intend to rectify.
Oh, but one cannot forget the library! It is located in the north-east "tower" (or so the corner blocks square in plan view are called). It occupies the entirety of the tower and two floors of the building. One can access it from both the ground and the first floor. The ground floor section is furnished with comfortable sofas and chairs, wide tables well-suited for placing books and engravings, display cases for rarities and collections, and of course bookcases. The top level is designed in the form of a gallery along all four walls, also with bookcases and cabinets. The walls are clad in finely carved oak wainscot. Richard and I spent a delightful evening there yesternight and look forward to more.
I also am looking forward to you, dear Anne, joining your affectionate friend,
Marianne Fitzwilliam
P.S. Richard sends his love to yourself and wishes of good health to Lady Catherine.
A/N: This may or may not be the first chapter of my attempt to write an epistolary novel along the lines of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' - the story of courtship and marriage of Col. Fitzwilliam, who I like immensely. His intended wife is an OC as you might have noticed. Also, although I did my level best to maintain the style and language of the period, I probably was not altogether successful. I will also try to preserve accuracy of historical facts if it ever comes to that. Sorry in advance for any inconsistencies you stumble upon, and thank you for any reviews, be they good, bad or indifferent. Just tell me how I did. Cheers!