Chapter Thirteen
The journey began with every hardship that Lady Catherine had prophesied. The crossing to Calais was cold and storm-tossed and took much longer than the distance could justify. Poor Mrs. Jenkinson got sick several times, as did one of the footmen. Once again on terra firma, conditions barely improved. The French roads were in need of repair, and to the foreign visitors the locals were as cold and gray as their weather. Anne would have given up before they reached Abbeville if not for Harriet. Freed from Lady Catherine’s dull spirits, Harriet let loose her ebullient sense of adventure. “La, Anne, look at how tall that church steeple is! This is barely a village, and yet the church is so grand. And that abbey! Have you ever seen such a thing? How wonderful to see such sights! This is worth every bit of trouble you have had.”
Dr. Minton rose even higher in Anne’s estimation as he gave her extra care and his full attention, assuring her that she was doing marvelously well despite the tribulations. She feared her gratitude appeared too effusive, even as she worried that it failed to convey the full extent of her appreciation.
Anne kept a promise she had made to Lady Catherine and wrote her every day, assuring her of the health and happiness of the entire group, even if she had to exaggerate or choose with care what details she shared.
After two days of bad roads and damp inns, they reached Paris. Being in the capital of a country so lately an implacable enemy, and which had been torn by a decade of revolution and violence, Anne found both frightening and invigorating. Dr. Minton, who spoke excellent French, allowed them a few days to see some landmarks, but to Mrs. Jenkinson’s appreciation he made sure to steer Anne away from places with gruesome associations that might cause emotional distress. Anne knew no one residing in the capital, so there were no social calls to pay. Three days of supervised sightseeing later, the party headed south in a small caravan of rented coaches.
Earning Anne’s deep gratitude, Dr. Minton avoided the cold and snow of the Swiss Alps and instead chose the less-traveled Grand Tour route south through France. Each day seemed to bring a welcome improvement in the weather, and by the time the party reached sunny Avignon, Anne thought she had arrived in an earthly paradise. Dr. Minton suggested they change the route and travel by ship from Marseille directly to Naples, but having made it this far with no major debilitations, Anne wanted to see as much of the countryside as she could. Dr. Minton acquiesced, praising her fortitude. Anne knew she never could have made the trip without his kindness and support. He arranged everything, from each change of rented coaches to their choice of inns and the carefully selected menu that would not disturb her digestion. No task was too big or too small for him to perform with absolute care and concern.
The night before they left Marseille, after she insisted on a supper of an astonishing variety of sea creatures that unsettled her stomach more than she cared to admit, Anne wrote a letter to Emily and Frances Fairfax. She knew they would be settled in London for the season by now and perhaps reconciled to their mother’s insistence that they stay in England. Once again Anne tried tact in her correspondence, and she highlighted all the travails and imperfect weather along the way that she had kept out of her letters to Lady Catherine. She saved room at the bottom of the sheet for Harriet to write a note if she wished. The girls’ cousin happily added a note in her reckless handwriting. Anne felt a twinge of mortification when she read her words that undid all her careful diplomacy. “I am sure Anne has told you about all the marvelous things we have seen and done. This has been the best experience of my entire life! I am sorry you cannot be here with us. What delights you have missed! Will write more when we arrive. Your loving cousin, H.”
Passing from France to the Piedmont did not feel like crossing a border. A few years ago that region had been forfeited to France after a brief war, and the Italian state now had French overlords. In a busy market town, the group changed from their rented French coaches hired in Marseille to Italian coaches for the next step of the journey.
While Dr. Minton stayed outside taking care of the arrangements, the people at the inn’s modest dining hall regarded the visitors with suspicion until Harriet said something to Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson. The sound of English, and not French, eased the tension in the room, and the serving girl’s cool behavior gave way to a warm welcome in Italian. When the others did not understand her message, she repeated it in awkward French. Mrs. Jenkinson’s rusty schoolbook French sufficed, and at Anne’s insistence her companion asked the serving girl about her change of heart about them. The girl explained that most of the population had become disillusioned with the French. Their promise of sharing their revolution had only meant “liberté, égalité, fraternité” for the French and servitude for the Piedmontese. Anne thought about the current peace treaty between England and France. Surely that would last, with the weight of England’s navy and army and the other former coalition countries behind it. She tried not to worry, since she could do nothing about it, but fear lingered in her mind.
On their way east and then south through the Italian states, Anne found herself so transfixed by the novelties around every turn that she did not notice how Dr. Minton had supplanted Mrs. Jenkinson as her closest companion during the days. He fetched whatever she needed, pointed out all the interesting sights, and even went so far as to arrange for Mrs. Jenkinson to ride in another coach on several occasions. Twice he tried to convince Harriet to ride with the servants, but the Cheshire girl would have none of it. She made it clear that she belonged in the best coach with Anne, and that was all there was to it. So the three rode together when they traveled to the required Grand Tour destinations of Florence and Siena.
Rome disappointed the visitors with its clouds and rain. After only a few days of sightseeing, Anne’s eagerness to move on to the promised paradise of Naples shortened their stay in the Eternal City. She had seen only a few of the places in her guide book, and she promised herself that she would take her time in the missed venues on the way back.
Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1 Page 16
