Location:

• Irvington Hall

Characters:

• Lady Julia Atwood Pemberton + Married to Lord William Pemberton, A VISCOUNT
• Jonathan Pemberton (22)
• Hilda Pemberton (17)
• Agnes Marie Atwood Young, A SEAMSTRESS + Married to Oscar Young, (A TINSMITH, ILL WITH TYPHUS)
• Allen Young (TINSMITH, 25) + Married to Victoria Groves Young (21, MULATTO, ORPHANED)
• Giles Young (DRUNKARD, 20)
• Baldwin Young (TWIN, 18)
• Bernard Young (TWIN, 18)
• Clarice Young (MAIN CHARACTER, ONLY DAUGHTER, 17)
• Audrey Kersey (20, STRIKINGLY BEAUTIFUL, THE DAUGHTER OF AN EARL)
• Jack Larson (24, BARNKEEPER)

Summary: Julia Atwood Pemberton and Agnes Marie Atwood Young are sisters. They are the daughters of a clergyman and grew up in a fairly mediocre family. However, one sister married an affluent viscount and the other sister married a tinsmith, against her father’s wishes. Agnes Marie is a seamstress, who attempts to provide for her family, burdened by the fact that one of her sons is a drunkard. Clarice Young is the heroine of my epistolary novel. Her father is ill with the typhus fever, and has bid his daughter to get married to her cousin, Jonathan Pemberton, so that she is taken care of. He does not worry about his sons, but instead, only for his young and sweet daughter. Jonathan’s father scorns at the prospect that his noble son should marry the daughter of a tinsmith. In fact, he also resents the entire Young family, despite them being his relations, as they have allowed racial mixing into their family. (The eldest son, Allen Young, has married a mulatto woman, to whom Clarice confides much to.) Lord Pemberton, like General Tilney in Northanger Abbey, aspires that his children marry noblepersons. Lord Pemberton has arranged his son to marry the strikingly beautiful Audrey Kersey, who is the daughter of an earl. He has only seen paintings of her. Clarice and Jonathan have grown up seeing each other often, and thus, have become attracted to one another. Clarice is heartbroken upon hearing this, yet Jonathan promises her that he will get married to her. Jonathan has always been kind to Clarice, despite the fact that his younger sister, Hilda, has always looked down upon her. Hilda does not want Clarice to be her sister-in-law. The last character to be introduced is Jack Larson, the barnkeeper who works on the Irvington Hall estate. He is flirtatious towards Hilda, who invites his attempts to coquet, despite the fact that she is already engaged to a wealthy land-owner, who is about fifteen years older than herself. Clearly, she is attracted to Jack, but knows that he would not make a good husband because he is a mere barnkeeper. When Clarice enters Irvington Hall, Jack is immediately attracted to her. Hilda becomes unsettled by this, but cannot intervene, as she is promised to a wealthy man and the families cannot afford a dispute.

 

Excerpt

Sister Julia,

My poor Oscar has fallen ill in these past two weeks. I have taken up long and arduous hours at the dressmaker’s. Clarice, my youngest and only daughter, has been the one to provide the care for Oscar, though I resent that his affliction should distress her. She has offered to learn the trade of dressmaking, but I should not like it for her. It would be better to pursue the providence of a governess—or perhaps, a wife. She has Mother’s darling hazel eyes. Oh, how I miss Mother! I knew she condemned me for marrying Oscar, but it was the deception of juvenile love that appealed to me. I fear he shall retire from this earth too soon. Allen and the twins have been beneficial with their financial prospects. Contrary, Giles has not acquitted his drinking. I should like him to marry a young lady from the country—one, perhaps, who should appeal to his better nature and prompt him to put an end to his drinking.

Two mornings ago, Oscar told me he fancied that Clarice should be wed soon to a man of aristocratic pursuits. He resolved that your Jonathan should be the man to take care of our only daughter. Dearest sister, Clarice should not have much luck in the pursuit of finding a prosperous husband. It was this very pursuit that you had admonished me upon when I had once married Oscar. And now, I entreat that you spare my daughter the misfortunes of my life by committing to her a husband whom may care for her. Divulge to me you would agree to such an arrangement, my dear one! You, who are the other half to my bosom! I plead you, my most cherished sister!

I would write to you longer, but fear that the hours of daylight are limited. I rely heavily on the daylight hours for my mending of the gowns. Could it be that I send Clarice over to Irvington Hall? It has been two years since you have last seen her, and I vow that you will find her a comely and subservient daughter.

Agnes Marie

 

Agnes,

We welcome our niece to our manor with the most lavish of intentions. Your burden is mine own, and you should know that. Clarice arrived the evening of yesterday to Irvington Hall. An introverted and delicate creature she is—nothing of the way you had been, I should judge! I cannot quite tell whether my Jonathan has taken a liking to her. They had conversed briefly in my presence during the hours of breakfast, but had been sovereign since. Jonathan has taken an advanced hobby of racing horses, and will be back by supper in time for me to observe further negotiations between the pair.

Clarice certainly looks like Mother. The hazel eyes, the freckles upon her nose—your nose! She is modest in her attire, being as dissimilar to Hilda as she is! She is quite petite and hardly does make a sound. Pemberton did not acknowledge her with much vigor. I do believe that he is aware of the reason that she is present at Irvington Hall. I briefly imparted to him of Oscar’s typhus, yet he did not offer condolences to your misfortune. My dearest Agnes, you know how Pemberton feels about your family. He does not fancy Oscar. I should admonish his apathetic nature towards an ill man, but I cannot reproach him either. You knew fairly certain how Mother and Father felt about your marriage to Oscar. He is unlike Pemberton, and you should like it that your Clarice share my own fortune of marrying an affluent man, is it not so? But dear Agnes, do hear carefully to such—the future Missus Pemberton should be the future mistress of Irvington Hall. It is not a matter to take lightly, as surely, I cannot imagine your Clarice to be the treasured mistress.

Do visit me for tea when you are available, dearest. Perhaps, this conversation should better be endured over tea and scones!

Lady Pemberton

 

Missus Victoria Groves Young,

My only earthly sister, how can you ever not be? I deplore Irvington Hall. It frightens me even more to visit after two years, and to see it as unchanged and uncanny as I can recollect. I have spent much of my girlhood years amongst these grounds. I long for the blissful spring days, underneath the shade of a magnolia tree. Oh, how I remember narrating to Jonathan of how I would name my own daughter Magnolia after the most handsome tree abode the property. Nevertheless, the vastness of the manor does intimidate me. It stands at a height of four levels and overlooks the River Ouse. The governess of the Pembertons would oftentimes walk us down to the river to watch the doves fly overhead. My summers at Irvington Hall had been merry. Needless to stay, I did not quite revere the manor itself. There are two tall towers with a winding staircase in each that seemed to be led into colossal darkness. Hilda’s previous maid, Missus Segal, would discourage me from following her up the stairs. Oh!—you should have liked Missus Segal. She was the first person of the mixed-race that I’d ever been made familiar to. She was nurturing and had the most sing-song voice I’d ever encountered in a woman. Her husband was a black Englishman and delighted us with caramels and peppermints.

But I fear that the joy of an impeccable childhood has disappeared forever. Jonathan has told me that he wishes to marry me, yet his father—the Lord Pemberton, as you know—has arranged for him to marry another damsel. I do recall that her name is Audrey. I reckon that Audrey can never love Jonathan to such an extent as I have.

I must reveal the most inner sins of my heart, but please do not tell. My intimacy with Jonathan has continued through the exchange of letters. Surely, his marriage to Audrey must be the greatest treachery I could ever face. I must never learn to love another man more than I’ve loved Jonathan. He is courteous and patient with broad hands that embrace mine own with the most refuge. I am ever tempted to embrace him, yet I keep myself at a distance over the contingency that Lord Pemberton’s marital arrangement for his son has imbued upon our future happiness.

I write to you from the bed-chamber of my girlhood visits. I wish that Lord Pemberton would have allowed a kind lady, as yourself, to stay here with me. I should like for you to meet Jonathan—and perhaps, you would see him as the most competent husband for myself.

How is dear Mother enduring in my absence? And how is my dearest Father? Can there be any news that would elevate me upon this hour?

Clarice Young

 

Hilda,

My fair beauty, please come visit me by the apricot tree. I leave this in the confidential hands of your maid, Eleanor.

            Jack

 

Clarice Young,

You are my most compassionate youngest sister. I was jubilant upon receiving this letter from you. I have been tending the entire house on my own, and the daily burdens have flourished since your departure for Irvington Hall. I anticipate your return, but with the most tolerant and hopeful heart, as both Missus and Mister Young contemplate upon your wedding to the son of a viscount! I should be the happiest sister for you. I had overheard Mister Young tell Allen that it would fit him as a diplomatic departure into the Heavens to have the knowledge that his only honourable daughter should become the future mistress to Irvington Hall.

Surely, this aspiration must be attained if, indeed, you and Jonathan have been made acquainted frequently through the exchange of letters. Surely, it was this very act that had led me to become your sister-in-law, as Allen had grown enamored by me through the letters I had sent him. Your secret is safe with me, and you must not let your Mother know of mine, for surely, she could not praise an informal acquaintance between myself and Allen.

It ails me to write that Mister Young’s health is hastily declining. I fear that he was too feeble to drink his soup this after-noon. He had complaint of an aching in his head and chest. The doctor has not been of much benefit, and I fear his declining manner. He has been the father that I had never gotten to know.

Write back soon.

            Victoria Young

 

Agnes,

It is without my entire consent that Lord Pemberton has arranged Jonathan’s marriage to Audrey Kersey, daughter of an earl in London. I have decided to share this with you, though I suspect that Clarice is made aware of this knowledge. She has spent much of her time in her bed-chamber. I recall the blooming little Clarice running amidst the property with my Jonathan. But today, they are no longer juvenile. They are mature and have become of age.

Do you remember my daughter, Hilda? She is grown—about the same age as Clarice. She has been engaged to Sir Richard Linton, a prosperous man. She will do quite well within her marriage to a man of such prestige. When I think of my little Hilda, I do quite understand your plea to wed Jonathan to Clarice. But you must understand that Lord Pemberton will not settle his only son for a marriage to the daughter of a tinsmith. I should burst into tears at these words, my little Aggie! But do you now see the loathsome consequences of rejecting the man of Father’s liking? You married a tinsmith, and your daughter is the daughter of a tinsmith. Surely, you can understand why this marriage cannot be.

I would help you in any way I could. I bid you come to Irvington Hall for high tea, and I can give you a portion of some assets that may help you. But it grieves me to say that I cannot help in making Clarice my own daughter through matrimony. Nay, she is my daughter in respects to her being your daughter, and there should be no need for her to marry Jonathan to visit Irvington Hall. Her bed-chamber shall always remain where it is. This is the only prospect I can offer.

I beg you to visit me. Lord Pemberton should not know of your visit. He has dismissed your family—ever since you conceded to Allen to marrying a colored woman—and does not wish to interfere with your values, as they are not his own! Do understand.

            Lady Pemberton

 

Hilda,

Who is the young maiden that wanders the fields in the early hours of morning? I knew not you had a visitor. She often roams about with a book in hand and sits by the rhododendrons. Meet me at the apricot tree after high tea.

            Jack

 

Missus Victoria Groves Young,

Jonathan has not spoken to me since yesterday’s supper. I suppose Lord Pemberton has advised him to such. As I write this, I see that he has taken off on his Hackney horse, Carrie—a detail he had elaborated upon my first day at Irvington Hall. I do not feel acknowledged by the Lord Pemberton. My most gracious aunt, on the contrary, has entertained me on various accounts, though I wish she would let me alone more often. She has not made a mention of Audrey. If only you knew, I feel quite perturbed ever since Jonathan had mentioned her name. He has never met her, and has only seen a portrait of her. She is blonde and has brilliant blue eyes and blushing rosy cheeks—quite the antithesis of me. And more beautiful. It vexes my heart to say this, but ‘tis true! Lord Pemberton has arranged the marriage of his son to a most exquisite and fair creature. Her blood comes from a greater nobility than mine own.

I do not wish to be seen on this estate. I know the Pembertons—but most of all, cousin Hilda—do not wish for me to stay much longer. This morning, I had stood at the entrance of the spiraling staircase of the towers, and I testify that I had heard the distant wails coming from the highest level of the tower. Wherever it is that those stairs lead to seem to be an eerie enigma. When I touched the railing of the staircase, it appeared as if it had not been dusted for a while. And despite such a fact, I felt agony existing at the very top. And just as I made a motion to make a first step upon those stairs, Hilda appeared beside me. The sneer curled upon her lips was evident and enough to make me tremble—perhaps, more formidable than the staircase itself.

She told me that no one is allowed upon those stairs, not even herself or Jonathan. Lord Pemberton had restricted even the maids from going upon those stairs. When she peered above her at the spiraling staircase, her cold eyes softened into a genuine state of lamentation. When I asked her why, she pulled back from me, startled at my presence. Without a word, she tugged me out of the tower room and told me to keep out. Lord Pemberton would not permit my presence upon his grounds if I had retreated past his orders, and in her own words, he did not quite like that I had already been staying for too long, as Audrey Kersey, future mistress of his Hall, was to arrive within a week’s notice.

I was angry upon these words. I am most exasperated at Mother for sending me to Irvington Hall with her aspiration on having me wed to the son of a viscount. Rather, had she not realized that Lord Pemberton was rigid upon his decision of having Audrey Kersey as his son’s blushing bride?

I do not belong here.

Clarice Young

 

 

Missus Victoria Groves Young,

I should be upon my return home before you are to receive this letter. But much has happened since the last letter I have sent to you. Two evenings since today, Jonathan had taken me to the tower room, so that he may not be seen by anyone else. I felt rather disturbed at being inside the tower room, especially after the caveat given to me by Hilda. I bit my tongue from inquiring him where the staircase led to, though I was greatly tempted. He told me that he loved me. When I pulled back in astonishment, I asked him how it could be so. He was the future groom of a fair lady in London to whom he would soon be made acquainted to. He vowed that he would abide to his love, though I was hesitant to consider the truth behind his words. I moved myself out of his reach, and with heavy silence, hurried back out from the tower room—it was more ghastly in the hours past dusk. I retreated back to my room for the evening and dared not enter the hallways. I did not wish to engage with Jonathan!—it would break my heart to hear him recite love words that would build a hope in my heart only to shatter upon his introduction to Audrey. The portrait of her person is hidden under a sheet in the library room. Often, when there is no one around after tea, I would retreat into the library to stare at the portrait. Her blue eyes would contemplate me as I studied the leather-bound books among the bookshelves.

A strange occurrence happened whilst I was reading yesterday after-noon. A young man—with unruly chestnut hair, fair, tall, and lean—had approached me. His clothes were slightly frayed, and I assumed he was amongst one of the laborers I had seen, tending the gardens or working by the barns in the distance. From my knowledge, Jonathan had employed various men to tend to his horses, an interest that had accompanied him from his boyish years. I recall of one fond memory where Jonathan had taken my hand in his and adjusted me on to his former Shetland pony, Buttons.

This young man had introduced himself as Jack Larson. I was timid in my own introduction, yet I formally shook his hand. He offered me a tour of the horses and cattle the Pembertons had kept upon their property. Naturally, I declined, desirous to resume to my after-noon muse of indulging in books and poetry. He was clement in nature and handsome in form. I aroused an earlier memory of seeing him conversing with Hilda on one occasion, though I could not imagine her person with his, as she was too refined for him. Hilda’s gowns are sewed meticulously from the finest pieces of fabrics and her fair hair is curled in the most immaculate manner. She was the living and breathing contrast of Jack Larson. He was certainly coarse, and I was not incredulous to find out he was the barnkeeper. He was adamant about his proposal of showing me around the fields, and I was adamant about my refusal.

It is getting late, and I must put down my pen. Tell me, is Father recovering?

            Clarice Young

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author’s Note:

 

First and foremost, this was a pleasant assignment. I think that imitating her writing was a bit of a challenge, and I don’t necessarily think I’ve succeeded with entirely copying her choice of words and style. I really wanted to explore a more specific aspect of the accentuated theme of marriage in her works, which is that: “marriage to wealth as a form of social mobility is a strategy that is debated and considered amongst various characters in her novels.” To write my excerpt of a would-be ‘Austen-esque’ novel, I used inspiration from three of her novels: Northanger Abbey, Mansfield Park, and slightly a bit from Emma.

In Northanger Abbey, General Tilney wanted his children to be married to those who came from high financial prospects. Isabella Thorpe also loses interest in Catherine’s brother, James Morland, after finding out that he is not a wealthy man. She eventually tries to engage with Frederick Tilney, who is the heir of the estate of Northanger Abbey. She is the inspiration the character of Hilda Pemberton to some extent. Though Hilda does not come from meager upbringings, she understands that her status in life will come from her choice of husband. Though she is attracted to the handsome Jack Larson, she will never consider him as a potential husband, as he is a barnkeeper. She would rather marry a man fifteen years her senior to secure herself financially and maintain the lavish lifestyle that she already lives. Likewise, Isabella Thorpe’s pursuit of men is directed towards guaranteeing a financially secure future for herself. Austen is making a point that there are limited options for women to gain access to wealth—and scarcely any option to do so in an independent manner.

In Mansfield Park, Maria and Julia (the Miss Bertrams) are focused on marrying well. There is also a disparity between how the three sisters (Frances Price, Lady Bertram, and Mrs. Norris) married. Frances Price and Lady Bertram, although sisters, have very different lives. Mrs. Price married an uneducated lieutenant and is left with many children—in fact, they were not able to care for Fanny, who was sent to live with the Bertrams. Lady Bertram, on the other hand, married a baronet. Her life is entirely different than that of her sisters, and Austen makes the point that this social disparity has to do with the men that the sisters had agreed to marry. The sisters, especially Frances Price and Lady Bertram, are the inspiration behind my characters of Agnes Marie and Lady Pemberton. Though they are sisters, the distance that exists between them has much to do with the man each has married. Like Frances Price, Agnes Marie is burdened with an ill husband and many children. She pleads her older sister, Lady Pemberton, to help secure a husband for her daughter. In Mansfield Park, Austen provides evidence of the patriarchal influence of society within the disparity between sisters, who emerged from identical social circumstances. In my excerpt, I provide evidence of the fact that it is Lord Pemberton (the man of the household) who has the greater authority, rather than Lady Pemberton, who still yearns to show compassion towards her younger sister, but does not necessarily have the means to do so.

In Emma, Emma Woodhouse ends up with Mr. George Knightley, who is a reputable farmer with status. Jane Fairfax, who is the object of Emma’s envy because she is beautiful and talented, ends up marrying Frank Churchill, which saves her from the fate of becoming a governess. The characters in my excerpt do not necessarily follow the same outline as the characters in Emma, however, this novel serves a major purpose to show social destiny in Austen’s era. Jane Fairfax’s fate is altered by her marriage—and without it, she would have become a governess, which is a slightly less appealing option.

I strongly believe that marrying into wealth is an option that has been considered and pursued by several of the characters in Austen’s novels.