Recollections of Rosings

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  She met Mr Darcy going downstairs, his face drawn and pale, and then found Mrs Darcy coming out of the room occupied by Mrs Harrison and her young daughter, Lilian. There was no mistaking it; Elizabeth looked shocked and disturbed.

  "Jenny," she said, reaching for her arm and moving towards her private apartments, "something quite dreadful has happened."

  Jenny Grantham's heart sank; "Not another sudden death, please God," she prayed silently. There had been too many of those.

  "What is it, ma'am? What has happened?" she asked anxiously.

  "There's been a fire at Rosings. Mr Darcy has received a letter from Mr Adams, the curator," Elizabeth explained and, seeing Jenny's expression, added, "and much of Lady Catherine's mansion has been destroyed."

  Stunned, Jenny stood with a hand to her mouth, suppressing a gasp of horror, as Elizabeth continued, "That is all we know at this time, but poor Mrs Harrison and her daughter will want to leave for Kent later today, so would you ask Lucy to help them pack and tell Thomas to have the carriage ready to take them to meet the afternoon train?"

  Jenny was so astonished she was unable to say much more than "Yes, ma'am, of course, ma'am," before returning downstairs to break the news to the servants. It was shocking, terrible news, yet Jenny's predominant emotion was one of relief.

  At least, as far they knew, no one was dead.

  ***

  Elizabeth returned to comfort Catherine and Lilian, while Mr Darcy sought out Jonathan Bingley, who'd just returned from a brisk walk in the park.

  "Ah Jonathan, I am glad to have found you, I'm afraid there has been some bad news," he said and drew Jonathan into the morning room, where a footman who had found the scattered letters was collecting them into a neat pile. Waiting only until the man had left the room, Mr Darcy handed Jonathan Bingley the curator's letter. Jonathan, a little puzzled, took it over to the window to read.

  Mr Darcy sat in his chair, silently regarding his nephew, but not for long. It took Jonathan only a few minutes to read swiftly though John Adams's letter and as he did so, he exclaimed, "Good God, this cannot be true!" as he strode back to where Mr Darcy waited. "When did this arrive, sir?"

  Mr Darcy was uncertain. "It must have arrived yesterday, whilst we were at Colley Dale for the wedding. It cannot have been earlier or I should have seen it. It is likely that one of the servants received it and put it aside with the rest of my letters. I opened it this morning."

  "The letter is almost two days old—the news must be all over London," said Jonathan and even as he spoke, they heard the sound of a carriage on the gravel drive. Moments later Anthony Tate, owner of the Matlock Review, and his wife, Rebecca, were admitted.

  Mr Tate had a copy of that morning's paper in his hand and held it out to Mr Darcy. The front page carried an account of the fire at Rosings Park, accompanied by a remarkable picture of the great mansion in flames.

  The artist had done well.

  "Mr Darcy, I did not know if you had heard yet, what with the wedding; I felt it my duty to come over, and Becky had to see Catherine."

  He seemed almost apologetic at being the bearer of such bad tidings. His wife stood quietly beside him, awkward, unable to speak.

  But Mr Darcy greeted them warmly and thanked them for their courtesy.

  "I have received information from the curator, Mr Adams, but I am grateful for your concern, Tate. We have broken the news to Mrs Harrison a little while ago; Lizzie is with her now."

  Rebecca asked if she might go to her sister and when Mr Darcy replied, "Of course," she left them to rush upstairs. She was well aware of the effect the news must have had upon Catherine, who had lived all her life on the Rosings Estate; it was the only real home she had known. Becky knew it would be a dreadful blow.

  Jonathan Bingley had been standing in the centre of the room, unable to believe completely what he had read in John Adams's letter, until he saw the account in the newspaper. There were more details and some speculation as to the cause of the fire—a suggestion, quite without proof, that a servant may have been careless and left a fireplace unattended. It was a dreadful prospect.

  "What do you propose to do, Mr Darcy?" Tate asked.

  Mr Darcy replied, in a somewhat matter-of-fact manner, which surprised him, "Well, I was about to suggest that Jonathan, who represents me on the Trust, should go down to Rosings; there will be some kind of enquiry, I expect, and the trust will decide how to proceed," and turning to his nephew added, "that is if you had not intended to be doing something else, Jonathan."

  Jonathan may have had other plans—such as fishing or visiting his sisters—and it was unlikely that he would enjoy the journey to Kent in these circumstances, but he knew it was his duty to go and agreed at once.

  "I shall have to explain to Anna and the children; I assume they may remain at Pemberley until I return?"

  Once again Mr Darcy said, "Of course."

  Jonathan nodded, asked to be excused, and went upstairs to prepare for his departure.

  Anthony Tate explained how the news had been received from London by electric telegraph.

  "I am very sorry, Mr Darcy, it will be a great blow to your family to lose such a magnificent mansion."

  Mr Darcy acknowledged that it would; even though Rosings had been too opulent for his personal taste, it had been in the de Bourgh family for many years, and it was difficult to accept that it was suddenly and irretrievably lost.

  After the Tates had departed, Catherine Harrison and her daughter Lilian left with their maid to take the train to London and thence to Kent. With them went Jonathan Bingley and Mr Darcy's steward, Mr Grantham, who had instructions from his master to do everything possible to assist Mrs Harrison and her family.

  Jonathan parted reluctantly from his family. Anna Bingley and their two sons, Nicholas and Simon, were to remain at Pemberley until he returned to report to Mr Darcy.

  "You do understand, dearest, do you not, that I have to go? Someone has to represent Mr Darcy and the family and ensure that the right decisions are made. John Adams is too new and has not the authority to do so. There will be a great deal to be done in a very short time; I expect to return within the week, but cannot be certain," he said as he bade farewell to his wife.

  Anna smiled, "Of course you must go, Jonathan. Do not concern yourself about us; we shall miss you, of course, but the boys will have fun with Anthony and James while Mrs Darcy and I will have plenty to talk about. Besides, it will give me time to do those sketches I have been meaning to make of the grounds and the house. Pemberley looks splendid at this time of year; I shall make the best of the opportunity. Poor Catherine will need your support, especially as I understand Dr Harrison is not in very good health."

  Catherine Harrison was Anna's cousin and she felt great sympathy for her; besides, Anna knew well how dutiful and loyal to Mr Darcy her husband was, and he was grateful for her understanding and sensibility.

  They had hoped to enjoy a pleasant holiday in Derbyshire with the Darcys; this was a most inauspicious interruption to their plans.

  End of Prologue

  RECOLLECTIONS OF ROSINGS

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Catherine had tried many times during the journey from Derbyshire to Kent, first by train and then by carriage to Rosings, to imagine what it would be like.

  From the scant information in Mr Adams's letter to Mr Darcy, it had not been easy to create a picture of how Rosings would look after the fire. She could not contemplate it. The scale and grandeur of the building, set as it was in a formal park of much beauty, surrounded by hundreds of acres of orchard, woods, and farmland, had so impressed themselves upon her mind since childhood that it was well nigh impossible for her to picture its destruction.

  She felt stunned, disbelieving, exactly as she recalled feeling when told that her father, Reverend Collins, had died suddenly of a heart attack, which had felled him without warning as he inspected the chapel at Rosings with Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Then she had be
en a mere girl, yet it was she who had had to support her mother and comfort her younger sisters, while still unable to accept it herself.

  Which is probably why the shock was so severe, when the carriage turned off the road into the long drive and there, before their eyes, was revealed the terrible truth.

  Nothing had prepared them for this.

  It was nearly four days since the fire, yet parts of the building were still smouldering—the smoke, acrid and dark, drifting upwards—while everywhere across the once immaculate park was strewn the debris of days past. Scorched walls, crumbling masonry, and shattered windows—all those many dozens of windows that her father used to speak of in a hushed voice, whose glazing had cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh a fortune—shattered now, hung with ragged bits of rich curtains blowing in the wind.

  Catherine gasped. She could hardly breathe, and beside her Lilian was weeping as Jonathan and Mr Grantham helped them alight.

  The driver of the vehicle they had hired stood beside them open-mouthed, so shocked he seemed to have been paralysed, unable even to recall the agreed hire when Mr Grantham attempted to pay him.

  "Jesus!" he said. "Jesus, I never seen such a sight before!" and it seemed he spoke for them all.

  Standing before the blackened entrance to the mansion, they were met by Mr Adams, who came swiftly to their side, followed by the manager, Mr Benson, who had been with the estate for many years, since Jonathan had relinquished the position after Lady Catherine's death.

  Jonathan, having conferred with both gentlemen, asked if the ladies wished to see inside.

  "Yes," said Catherine and Lilian together.

  Whilst warning them that it was far too hazardous to enter certain parts of the building, where beams and walls were in danger of collapsing and shards of glass lay everywhere, Mr Benson conducted the party through the main courtyard into the vestibule and let them see some of the devastation wrought by the fire within the house.

  Many areas had been completely destroyed.

  Equally, Mr Adams was at pains to show them how the entire East Wing had been preserved by being cut off from the fire.

  "We were most fortunate in the weather on that night… there was very little wind and what there was blew from east to west, thereby pushing the flames away from the courtyard and fountain, protecting the East Wing. Some rain on the following day helped douse the remaining fires, but it was, alas, too late to save the main building and the West Wing, which held many of Sir Lewis de Bourgh's trophies," Mr Adams was explaining, when Lilian, no longer able to hold back her feelings, burst into tears.

  Catherine, though distraught herself, remained for the most part calm and collected, understanding her daughter's distress. As a child she had explored every nook and cranny of Rosings. A particular favourite of her father's patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she had been permitted certain privileges at Rosings, making it a special place.

  To Lilian likewise, coming from the modest parsonage at Hunsford, where she was the youngest of three children, permission to wander at will among the treasures of Rosings had added a touch of magic to her otherwise prosaic childhood. Now, much of it was gone.

  Jonathan suggested that the ladies return to Hunsford and rest awhile after the strain of their journey. He asked if Mr Benson would arrange for him to be accommodated at the house and was happy to hear that rooms had been prepared for him in the East Wing.

  He did not realise, however, that there was still another shock in store for them, though of a somewhat different kind.

  Catherine and Lilian had gone out into the courtyard, still in earnest conversation with the manager Mr Benson, who had been one of the first on the scene after the fire had been discovered. Following some yards behind, Mr Adams pulled Jonathan back to tell him that Dr Harrison had suffered a heart attack on the night of the fire and was confined to bed at the parsonage at Hunsford, with a nurse in charge.

  Speaking in a low voice, he explained, "He worked as hard as the rest of us, never sparing himself, and no one knew he had suffered severe palpitations until one of the men found him gasping for breath and rushed to summon Dr Whitelaw, who fortuitously was also present, helping me save some of the precious books from Sir Lewis de Bourgh's study."

  In a voice that betrayed his genuine fears, he added, "Mr Bingley, had he not been here, I dread to think what might have occurred."

  Jonathan was anxious to discover how seriously ill Dr Harrison was. "What has Dr Whitelaw prescribed for him?" he asked.

  "Complete rest and daily medication. I know he calls at the parsonage twice a day and has asked the nurse to summon him if there is any change in Dr Harrison's condition. I should perhaps explain that Dr Harrison expressly forbade me to send word of his affliction to Mr Darcy, lest Mrs Harrison be even more distressed by the news. He insisted that he would tell her himself and explain that it was only a temporary indisposition."

  "And is it? What is Dr Whitelaw's prognosis?" asked Jonathan.

  "While I am not privy to the detail of it, Mr Bingley, as a friend of the family and with a particular interest in Miss Lilian, I did inquire on their behalf. Dr Whitelaw revealed that Dr Harrison has been in indifferent health for several years. I believe he has carried a heavy load of work since the rector at the parish of Lower Apsley retired. The exertion and stress he was under on account of the fire may well have been the last straw, so to speak. However, Dr Whitelaw hopes that with rest and careful nursing, he may recover to live comfortably for a few more years."

  Mr Adams spoke with a degree of concern and understanding that did him great credit, a fact that Jonathan Bingley did not fail to notice.

  He shook his head. He could scarce believe what he was hearing. Catherine Harrison would have to cope with two profound calamities at once.

  Jonathan had great respect and affection for her, having once been married

  to her younger sister, Amelia-Jane. Catherine had supported him through the tribulation and trauma of a failing marriage, the loss of two infant children, and finally, tragically, the death in a most horrific accident of his young wife. He knew she was a woman of strength and compassion. Jonathan had valued both qualities then and was confident of her ability to deal with and survive her family's present misfortunes.

  Having first reassured Mr Adams that Mr Harrison would not learn how he had discovered the truth about his illness, Jonathan set out to join the ladies and accompany them to the parsonage at Hunsford. He was determined to do everything possible to assist Catherine and her daughter, who might now be left to cope alone.

  ***

  Arriving at the parsonage, they were met by two grim-faced servants, clearly unable to conceal their concern. Catherine assumed they were still suffering from the shock of the fire at Rosings, as indeed was she. But when she saw the housekeeper in tears, she began to worry.

  "Mrs Giles, what is it?" she asked and then, as Lilian ran towards the stairs, the nurse came out of the bedroom and Catherine knew without a word being said that Dr Harrison must be very ill indeed.

  As Jonathan stood helpless in the hall, mother and daughter rushed up the stairs and it was only with the greatest difficulty that the nurse persuaded them not to enter the main bedroom, where she said Dr Harrison was asleep after taking his medication. Dr Whitelaw had visited his patient that morning, she said. Jonathan could not hear everything that was said, but her tone, though gentle, was firm as she urged them to return with her to the parlour where she would explain everything.

  As they did so, Mrs Giles went to fetch the tea tray, and Jonathan followed them into the parlour. The arrival shortly afterwards of Dr Whitelaw for his usual afternoon visit to his patient afforded them an opportunity to discover the facts about Dr Harrison's condition.

  ***

  In his letter to his wife Anna, Jonathan provided some detail of what had occurred but could in no way convey either the full extent of the ravages of the fire nor the dismay he had felt at learning of Dr Harrison's condition.

  It is i
mpossible to describe the devastation we have seen here, he wrote.

  Rosings as I knew it, and we have seen it often, is no more. Only one section of the grand mansion—the East Wing—remains, spared by the merest chance from the fire. The rest, all those splendid rooms, their rich furnishings and accessories, are reduced to a smoking ruin.

  Even the great park seems scorched and bereft of its beauty. Poor Catherine and Lilian are both distraught; this place has been home to them for all of their lives. But, dearest, that is not all they must bear, for since arriving here, we have learned from Mr Adams and had confirmed by Dr Whitelaw that Dr Harrison, while trying to help salvage some of the treasures from the fire, suffered a severe heart attack. He is now confined to bed.

  It is surely the very worst thing that could have befallen this family at this time, for Catherine and her young daughter Lilian are alone here and must fend for themselves. Their only son is a midshipman in the Navy, sailing somewhere between Southampton and the West Indies, while their elder daughter lives in India, where her husband is chaplain to some regiment or other, keeping order in the colony! Obviously, they cannot be much comfort or help to their mother at this time.