“I, too, have a letter from home. ‘Tis from Frederick—there is both good and sad news. The good is that, under our instruction, he has employed a schoolmaster, Mr. Robert Wrensford, and his wife, Mrs. Kirsten Wrensford, as mistress. He’s Presbyterian from Scotland; his wife is Danish. They fled Denmark at the time of the British bombardment of Copenhagen in ‘07. Frederick speaks well of them, and they are keen to start anew, as they feel estranged from England and Scotland and cannot return to Denmark. We should expect them to arrive on board theCanada, which is due to arrive before year’s end.”
“Oh, William, the timing is excellent. Our new villa will be complete, and the Wrensfords can occupy this house as soon as they disembark.” Elizabeth paused. “But there’s sad news?”
“My father continues to decline, though fortunately not as fast as was feared. He’s still active and would have it that it’sjust some mild ague, which he developed when in the West Indies as a young man. He has had recurring bouts of such illness for many years and has always recovered, though more slowly as he ages.”
Darcy grimaced. “There is more disconcerting news about my aunt, Lady Catherine. Her behaviour is increasingly erratic, though mostly the same strident demands that Frederick or I should marry Cousin Anne. She has become quite insistent on it, and she clearly does not know, or refuses to acknowledge, that I am already married. He says there is nothing that we can do, that it is for her brother, Lord Matlock, to intervene. He believes the madness is due to her being secluded at Rosings and not participating in any society, but there may be a deeper cause, an illness of the mind of which we are unaware.”
“How strange,” said Elizabeth, “but ’tis rather sad. You said that Anne is intelligent but weak of heart and lung. Are such ailments common in the de Bourgh line?”
“Sir Lewis de Bourgh was a strong character, larger than life, as they say. But he died some twelve years ago. At the time, I was at school and didn’t know him well. Oh, do not fear, Lizzie; the Darcys are a robust lot. Both Frederick and Georgiana enjoy the best of health—it is I who am the weakling of the family.”
“Oh dear, are you so very infirm? I must put you to bed and minister immediate, tender loving care to overcome your frailty.”
“Minx.”
Chapter 21
Parramatta, October 3, 1810
“I received a letter from Mr. Andrew Thompson,” said Darcy as he walked with Elizabeth along the shore at Sydney Cove. “He would like us to visit him at his home, theRed Houseat Green Hills on the Hawkesbury, but also to visit his property,St. Andrews, at Minto.”
“Minto? I’ve never heard of it.”
“South of Parramatta, near an area called theCowpastures. The land is very fertile; and, as he was awarded twelve hundred acres there by Governor Paterson, he thought we may wish to take up our grant adjacent to his. I spoke to Macquarie, and he suggests I visit the local magistrate in Parramatta, hold court for any prisoners who otherwise would be sent to Sydney for trial, and from Minto proceed to the Hawkesbury. What say you, Lizzie? Are there any women near their term? For I don’t wish to deprive them of your attendance.”
“There is one, the wife of Private Hastie, who is soon to deliver. It should be within the week.” Elizabeth looked to Darcy, a broad smile enlivening her countenance.
“Oh, to journey into the unknown! While there’s much to see about Sydney, I’ve heard the country beyond the town is very beautiful, particularly the Hawkesbury River. I would enjoy such a diversion, very much indeed.”
Some weeks later, they put their scheme into action. Darcy and Elizabeth rode, while Sgt. Monogan, Harshita, and their son were seated on the bench of a large covered cart containing their baggage, now pulled by two strong shaft horses from the government stables. Accompanying them were Ann Reynoldsand another lass, Maria Mitchell, who was to go into service at Mr. Robert Townson’s house,Varro Ville, which stood opposite St. Andrews. Elizabeth was keen to meet Mr. Townson, who was by many accounts the best-educated man in the colony until her dear Darcy arrived. Townson was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh and author of many publications. His booksPhilosophy of MineralogyandTracts and Observations in Natural History and Physiologywere in her father’s library.
A large road led from Sydney to Parramatta. Though it was still in the process of being paved, it was well-made and kept in good condition. Almost everywhere the roadway was wide enough for three carriages to pass abreast. Bridges had been thrown over the major streams so that they met with no obstacles on their journey. Having been opened through vast forests that never before knew the axe, to Elizabeth’s eye this road appeared at a distance like an immense avenue of foliage and verdure. A charming freshness and an agreeable shade always prevailed, the silence of which was interrupted only by the singing and chirping of the richly plumed parroquets and other birds that inhabited it.
The whole ground over which they proceeded was flat, except for a few insignificant hillocks. As they drew away from Port Jackson, the soil became less barren and afforded a great variety of vegetation. In some parts there were large clearings between the trees, which were covered by a fine and sweet-scented grass, forming a verdant carpet and affording pasturage to numerous flocks of well-fed sheep.
***
At length, they arrived in sight of Parramatta, situated in the middle of a fine plain on the banks of the river of the same name. Darcy had at first thought of travelling by boat from Sydney, but the necessity of acquiring horses and a conveyancefor their baggage for the onward journey rendered the plan unsound.
The town was not as large as Sydney, containing some one hundred and eighty houses. The main thoroughfare, George Street, terminated at the eastern end with the Barracks, capable of accommodating three hundred infantry. This was built of brick, in the form of a horseshoe, and had in front a well-gravelled parade ground.
At the western extremity stood Rose Hill, from which the town first received its name; but it was afterwards called Parramatta—that being the original appellation given to this part of the country, and which generally prevailed amongst the English themselves.
The whole eastern front of Rose Hill, which sloped towards the town, was a gentle declivity, on which was situated a well-tended garden belonging to the governor. Here, Elizabeth discovered, from a gardener working in the place, that many experiments were made with a view to naturalising foreign vegetables. They also collected the most remarkable of the indigenous plants, intended to enrich the famous royal gardens of Kew. The aspect was altogether delightful.
Atop the summit of Rose Hill, they could see the Government House of Parramatta; it appeared simple, elegant, and well laid out—its principal importance was derived from its situation, which overlooked the town, as well as from its meadows, its woods, and the river winding past it. The mansion was generally unoccupied, but Governor Macquarie had kindly lent them the privilege of staying there during their time in the district. Thus, they were somewhat surprised when, ascending to the house, they were greeted at the door by Colonel O’Connell.
“Darcy, by Jove, what do you here?” O’Connell stepped forward to assist Elizabeth from her mount, Darcy dismounting easily from his saddle.
“I’m equally surprised, Colonel. Macquarie had intimated the house was unoccupied and my party could take our accommodations here.”
O’Connell flushed and looked nervously back towards the house. “You must be tired from your journey. Let us take some refreshments while your rooms are prepared.”
They entered a rather small drawing-room, which was much in need of repair and decoration. The furniture was shabby, the carpets worn and scuffed. Therein sat Mrs. O’Connell; she rose and gave a shallow curtsey.
“Has my dear colonel called for refreshment? Oh, I’m sure he has. It will arrive shortly… Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, ‘tis so pleasant to see you here at Rose Hill.” She returned to her seat, and indicated that her guests should do the same.
On their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. The ensuing silence was first broken by Elizabeth. “Mrs. O’Connell, we apologise for the intrusion. We’ll remove to other accommodation so as not to inconvenience you, particularly if you are poorly.”
