AUTHOR'S NOTE: The parts of Childermass, Segundus, et al. are played by the lovely folks from the miniseries, but I'm following the timeline of the book.
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Being excerpts from memorandum books, notes, and various other documents written by John Childermass
January 1807
...it began today. A couple of men from the York Society of Magicians came to Hurtfew to talk to Norrell and see his library. One of them, a Mr Honeyfoot, was a big, stupid man, not malicious but seeing only what he wanted to see. The other - Mr John Segundus - he could tell something was not right. He sensed the labyrinth and the spell of confusion, though he didn't know what they were. He looked poor, and Italian, and smelled like fresh bread He may be useful.
February 1807
Interesting development: Robinson reports that the entire York Society of Magicians signed Norrell's paper like the clot-headed sheep they are - except for Segundus. Seems the man has a spine, and a real love of magic, beneath that quiet facade. I was right; he will be useful.
...
Segundus was at the Cathedral for Norrell's demonstration. He did not remember me, of course, but looked as though he thought he should. Interesting fellow. Clearly sensitive to magic. He was much affected by the event and would have hurried off after, but I collared him. He was rather appealing to look at as we stood outside in the snow I got him to volunteer to write to The Times. He is certainly the person for the job; intelligent enough to record the "miracle," but not so pompous as to put forth his own theories regarding it. Norrell is of course putting up a fuss. I will ask the cards about Segundus and see what, if anything, should be done about him after he's served his purpose.
...
The cards say Segundus has some crucial magical task to perform some distance in the future. Also he seems quite unbelievably full of virtue and the disinterested desire for the good of English Magic. Not sure what to make of this. I will prevent him from coming to Norrell's attention for now, as Norrell would not react well to idea of other person having anything to contribute. Perhaps I shall write and warn him to keep a low profile.
Draft of a letter, written in March 1807:
Mr Segundus:
I write to apologize for the way in which my master, Mr Norrell, has robbed you of all your magical compatriots and resources in York, and to beg you to be patient. Within the next few years I believe that we will see England's magic restored to its former glory, and men of your abilities will receive the recognition they deserve. I also apologize for your treatment when you and Mr Honeyfoot came to Hurtfew. The only way I could persuade Mr Norrell to allow you gentlemen to call on him was if he put a mild spell of confusion upon you, so that neither of you would retain clear memories of what occurred during your visit. My master tends to be secretive and paranoid, but despite his flaws, believe me when I say that he will play a critical role in the revival of English Magic. If only I can get him to Act while the time is ripe!
I also commend you for your resolve in the face of Mr Norrell's absurd contract with the Learned Society of York Magicians. Again, this is another of the things he insists upon, and I let it pass in spite of its mean-spirited and unnecessary nature. But I convinced him that it would do no harm to let you continue your magical career (forgive the implication that he has any rights over you at all - he does not). Now I hope to get him so wrapped up in our London campaign that he will leave you in peace.
I knew from the moment I saw your charming face you that you live for magic. So do I. Perhaps when the revival is underway we can meet in more favorable circumstances and discuss it. When did you first know that what you felt around you was magic? How much have you learned? Where did you learn to project an appearance of such trustworthiness and - for lack of a better word - goodness? The cards seem to be telling me that you are what you appear to be. I have a hard time believing it. No one could be that perfect innocent.
Another draft, May 1807:
Mr Segundus:
I know that I will not be sending this letter, but I like the illusion of conversation with you. Despite having met you in person only twice - the first occasion being one that you probably don't even remember, unless the spell's effects turn out to be transitory - I feel a connexion to you that is pleasant, though no doubt illusory. I have no companions. My master is not much of a one for conversation. The other servants are fine folk but not interested in magic. Most other people I encounter are either villains, halfwits, or both. You have been nominated as my imaginary friend. Lucky man.
I am not really so pathetic as that last paragraph makes me sound. I am - if not exactly happy - satisfied in my work, which is greater than I could have ever hoped for considering my origins. I will tell you about that one day, maybe. But I find that occasionally I crave an understanding ear for my thoughts. These papers - letters never sent - will have to fulfill that role.
February 1808
...when last I wrote I was about to set out on my search for Vinculus's wife. I was successful. Five times more successful than I expected, to be precise. The man has five wives, none of them aware of the other four. The youngest took a fancy to me...Lord knows I gave her no encouragement. She kept going on about my eyes and hair. I have never thought of either of these features as possessing any particular virtue (other than the useful fact that I can get most people to do what I want if I stare at them long enough). I wonder what you would say about the matter?...
July 1809
What are you doing, John Segundus? The cards tell me you have gone a-wandering with a friend. I assume it is the oaf Honeyfoot. I hope you have been enjoying his society - him and his wife and their pretty daughters. Yes, I know all about Honeyfoot and his family. Part of my job. Spying for Norrell. I might find it distasteful if I didn't have a natural bent towards prying and interfering in other peoples' business.
That is not all that the cards say. You are going to meet another magician. The Other Magician. What will he make of you, and you of him? Whatever that may be - you and Honeyfoot will push him into Norrell's path. Things are beginning to move at last. You and I are at opposite ends of this thing, John Segundus. You might even believe me to be your enemy if you knew what I got up to sometimes. But I assure you that all is done for the sake of the thing we both want most - England's magic brought home. The Raven King in his rightful place once more. It will happen. I know it. And you and I will be a part of it.
Still, what can you possibly see in Honeyfoot? No doubt I am doing the man an injustice - at least, I hope I am, since you have befriended him - but can his kindness outweigh his dullness of mind? I suppose you would reply with a question of your own: can hardness of heart be outweighed by a lively brain? You can guess which combination applies to me. I wish I knew if we could truly be friends, were we to meet for more than a few moments. Someday I will find out.
May 1810
So you're corresponding with Strange. Yes, I read the letters. At least I sent them on to their intended recipient when I'm done, and no one the wiser (except for this paper-and-ink facsimile of you). I am pleased that he treats you with respect - or at least as much respect as he ever shows any one. I am inclined to like him, though he does not fascinate me as you do...
November 1812
...I have a list of people I keep track of - people of interest - to keep Norrell appraised of magical activity in England. People who have books they might want to sell without understanding their full value. People who might make a nuisance of themselves unless discouraged. You are on that list, John Segundus, but so far you are the only person that I have to force myself to stop watching. I do not have the leisure for a full-blown obsession right now - also, it strikes me as impolite. You value your privacy and never put yourself forward; I think you would be appalled to learn that I have kept a keen eye on you without your consent.
For all that, I have no intention of stopping. I read the cards about you once a month, but no oftener. It is for your own good as well as my own satisfaction; I must know what you are doing so I can protect you if need be.
May 1813
...one might say, and correctly, that there's only so much one can discover about a man through card-reading and peering into basins of water. Be that as it may, I know quite a lot about you, John.
You read all the books about magic you can find (and I'm sorry there aren't more of them).
You correspond with Strange.
You try spells, and they don't usually work.
You have had a tame raven for many years. They are long-lived birds.
You spend a lot of time with Honeyfoot and his family. The daughters like you and you find them pleasant but you would rather talk about magic. This is a relief to me.
You are poor.
You are kind.
You are good.
You are intelligent.
You are beautiful.
September 1815
...Your virtues have been noted by a wealthy lady and you are...what ARE you doing? Starting a school of magic? Dear me. If Norrell hears of this he will not be happy. ...
December 1815
...He has heard. I suppose it was too much to hope that he would not. I am coming to you, John. You will hate me for it but I am going to stop you. I am so sorry. This would be perfect for you, I know - you would make a grand headmaster. And one day you will. I promise.
I confess that I am nervous at the thought of seeing you in person for the first time in nine years. Will you even remember me? Odd to think that you have become so much a part of my life, my mind, my (yes, I will write it) heart, and you probably have given me no thought whatsoever for nearly a decade. This situation cannot continue. I want to truly know you and be known by you, not to spend the rest of my days mooning over a phantasm.
...
I saw you. You looked at me with recognition and dismay (a combination familiar to me, but it was not enjoyable to see it on your face). You said you did not remember me but I think that, somehow, you did. Amazingly, you did not curse at me or even at Norrell. Dear, courageous, courteous, gentle soul - my heart nearly burst to see you standing there, staring down at the flagstones while all your plans crumbled around you. I had to flee before I did something foolish. I told you I would help you if I could but I don't think you believed me.
January 1816
...I've been blind, John. I don't know what it is that prompted Lady Pole to make that attempt on Norrell's life, but I am grateful for it. I feel as though a shroud that I didn't even know was there has been ripped from my face. Like the years I have spent working for Norrell wound me ever tighter in a web of pedantic arrogance. It is both humiliating and liberating to have caught a glimpse of the Wild Magic. The size, the wonder, the terror of it - I felt like I did the first time I felt the presence of magic as a child, only even more strongly, with all the faculties of my adult self. Between that and the bullet wound, I have been half mad for the past week, without having even this faux method of talking to someone. Finally I am allowed pen and ink, so I can write to you.
I am keeping my promise and helping you find a profitable occupation - Sir Walter has agreed with my suggestion that a non-career madhouse keeper would be best for his wife, and she will be brought to Starecross as soon as the details have been sorted out between him, you, and Mrs Lennox. It will be bizarre to write words that you will actually read. I must remember not to employ the familiar tone I am accustomed to using with the version of you that has lived in my mind for the past nine years, keeping me sane...
March 1816
...I met with Strange today and had a look at the engravings for his book. He told me how to walk through mirrors and into - where? Faerie? Somewhere Else, anyway. The engravings, which Strange said were fairly accurate, are beautiful and frightening. I don't know if I dare go through and walk the King's Roads. I also don't know if I can resist, now that I know how to get there.
Strange suggested that I leave Norrell and become his pupil and assistant. The idea is intriguing, but I declined. For now, this is where I am meant to be. ...
December 1816
...I walked the Roads for the first time today. I do not have the words to describe the immensity, the complexity, the beauty, and the decay of that place, and over all that the feeling of being somewhere so totally Other than our own world...
I decided to try to find a specific exit - window, door, whatever you choose to call it - by focusing my mind on a particular person. Can you guess who it was? You are never far from my thoughts. And it worked - within a dozen steps I came to a hallway that branched off to one side of the passage I traveled. Looking down it, I saw a doorway, with you sitting on the other side. I approached slowly, not wanting to get too close in case you caught a glimpse of me in whatever reflective surface I was seeing through. You were sitting at the kitchen table, talking to your housekeeper. You were both chopping orange peels with great concentration. Apparently you help her make marmalade when you need a change of scene. I could not hear what you were saying, but you looked happy. You also looked thinner and paler than I remember. Have you been neglecting yourself in your concern for your charge? That seems like the sort of thing you would do, John...
February 1817
I would not have let you remain so close to Lady Pole for so long had I known what the magic surrounding her would do to you. You are worn to a thread-paper. I could nearly see through you. Why are you so kind? She is fortunate to have had such a friend. Maybe I shall go mad and entrust myself to you, merely for the pleasure of having you watch over me so carefully.
I have spent so long loving you from far away that I have been in danger of forgetting that you are real, not a story, nor a spell. You are yourself, unexpected and unpredictable, brave and clever, foolish and strange. Watching you restore Lady Pole's finger was like seeing you come into focus. After years and years of hints and guesswork, I finally saw you in your element, and the effect was nearly as strong on me as it was upon Lady Pole. You are a magician. You really are.
...
I am through with Norrell. He is gone and I am free. We have seen the Raven King's magic return; that part of my task is done. Now I find myself with a new role and purpose. No more standing in the background. With Norrell and Strange gone, people will be looking about for new authorities on magic. You will have your school for magicians. I will spend myself in the service of my King - in the reading of his new book.
I will have plenty of reasons to visit Starecross now. It will make a fine base of operations for my work with Vinculus. You will not be able to be rid of me. I will speak my heart soon. Even the cards know it. They do not tell me what your response will be, but I can live like this no longer. This will be my last letter to you, John.
As the children say: ready or not, here I come.