“Hey, servant, what’s your name?” another boy called.
“Wickham! I am George Wickham.” Bravely George Wickham spoke up. “I am not a servant. My Father is a steward, and my God Father is a gentleman.”
Another round of laughter followed Wickham’s declaration.
“S-S-S-STOP IT!” Darcy finally stood up. “My father is his Godfather. That’s why he’s here.”
“Who might you be?” One of the other boys asked.
“I am F-F-Fitzwilliam D-Darcy” This would not have been enough to stop the boys carrying on. However, the master arrived to start their lessons. The teasing that Wickham was subjected to continued for the whole year, however after a few letters from home the teasing was done away from Darcy’s hearing. Slowly over the year young Darcy’s confidence in himself improved and his stuttering stopped. hearing. Slowly over the year young Darcy’s confidence in himself improved and his stuttering stopped.
26th November 1795
Darcy did not remember the three-day journey back to Derbyshire. His internal voice was working overtime, worrying about how sick his mother was and if he should lose his mother, what he would do. Self-doubt and self-blame were the order of business in his mind the whole of the way home. He went straight to his mother upon arrival home and found her sitting up in bed with what appeared at first glance to be a doll. However, when his mother smiled and beckoned him over to the bed to sit with her, Darcy realised that it was not a doll, but rather it was his new sister. It was love at first sight. Georgiana was just perfect.
“Fitzwilliam I asked your Father to bring you home for a reason. I don’t know how long I shall be here, I need to talk to you about your future.” Ann was pale and visibly struggling.
“Mama, say you will be well?!” Darcy was distraught. He wasn’t ready to lose his mama.
"None of us know what time we have Fitzwilliam. I promise that if I can get well, I will.” At this point, Georgiana woke up and cried. “Even if I survive for a little while I am eventually going to leave you. I was never strong, and now I am even weaker. I need to talk to you about your future.”
“Mother do not distress yourself.” Darcy pleaded.
“I am not distressed, but this is too important for me to leave it.” Ann was looking more and more tired as she spoke, but she was determined and so continued “Son, you will have an enormous responsibility on your shoulders. That responsibility will weigh heavy on your shoulders. In some cases, you will have the very responsibility of life and death. Do not take it lightly and do not be afraid to ask for help and advice. Choose carefully those who you trust. Many will give you poor advice, others will wish you to fail. Be strong my son. When you get older you will be expected to look for a wife, You have a loving and caring heart, do not choose with your head only, the temptation to do so will be great. Fortune and title they are not what matters. When you choose a wife, choose with your heart son, she must be someone you love and who will truly be your equal. Make your own choice and be happy.
"On money, be generous but save at least one tenth of what comes in. Many will ask money from you, The Bible says in Luke to give to him that asks you. Do not give or spend more than you can afford, and do not withhold too much money either for the Proverbs tells us that when a man withholds too much, it tends to poverty. Invest wisely again the bible says to cast your bread upon many waters, for you do not know what will prosper.”
“Mother I’m confused. How do I give to everyone and yet not spend too much? How do I know what is too much to withhold and what is too much to spend?”
“If you spend too much then eventually the estate and those who are dependent on you will suffer. You will find out what spending level needs to be to maintain and grow the estate. Ask your Father for advice. The advice to give generously is only valid if you can do so without making your family suffer. Saint Paul tells us that if a man doesn’t provide for his family he is worse than an infidel, that’s someone who doesn’t believe. Part of providing for your family is growing the estate and income you have a son. You will know what your own level is.” At this Ann sank back into the pillows and told Darcy to leave her.
Confused he did, but her advice given here would resonate with him for the rest of his life. In monetary terms, he followed his mother's advice and was very successful. He always saved, and he had no vowels anywhere. His bills were always paid promptly and when he was full grown the poor and the servants were liberally treated. Thanks to his mother's advice he never had to refuse to help anyone – that is except eventually for one man, who perpetually would not learn from his mistakes and depended on the Darcy Largesse more than any other. Darcy stayed home for a full month complete, learning from both his mother and Father. Both of them taught him lessons that he would remember for the rest of his life. He was confused and conflicted over his mother advice for choosing a wife and pushed it out of his mind as it seemed something barely relevant to a boy of 12 years of age.
30th December 1795
Darcy was tired having left Derbyshire two days ago. However, after that day he would not be the same boy again. He confidently walked into his shared room with Wickham, only to find on the floor the body of his best friend, Jeremy Phillips. Wickham's group of friends had invited the boy into meet Darcy when he arrived. However, while they were waiting for Darcy to arrive they had slipped a very powerful sleeping draft into the boy's drink, thinking it would be a lark to make him sleep. Once Jeremy had collapsed on the floor, the boys had left to room, and the boy had choked on his own vomit while he lay there. The shock that Darcy felt was immense that Wickham had been the core instigator was unknown to Darcy at the time. However, it was to become the first of many George Wickham’s messes that Darcy would clean up.
Oh God! He’s just sleeping, that’s all he can be doing. Why is he here? Please say he’s only sleeping. He looks tortured. He’s sleeping, He’s sleeping, He’s sleeping. I need to wake him up, I need to wake him up. Darcy slowly moved over to the body and went to shake his friend. He’s cold, He’s blue, He’s stiff. What happened? This isn’t right I can't do this. I need some help. Please God, why does he not wake up? I can’t stay here, I need to get the housemother. I need to get help.
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! HELP ME PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP! Darcy had thought that he had screamed out loud as he opened the door to his shared rooms, but no sound had passed his lips. He ran down the hall until coming to the housemothers private sitting room he knocked and promptly collapsed. The housemother had both seen him arrive back at the school and heard his knock on her parlour. She opened the door, and there he lay in a crumpled heap. Gently she picked him up and carried him back to his room. That was when she realised that he must have walked in to find the body. She turned around and placed him in an empty room that was awaiting new boarders and then returned to lock the door until the Doctor and Magistrate arrived. It was not until three months had passed that the boys finally admitted what had happened, and another three months before either Mr or Master Darcy could straighten out the mess George Wickham had created.
26th November 1797
It would take another shock before Darcy would speak again. He was bright and maintained his studies with even more vigour than before, and ways around Darcy’s not talking were found. However, a letter had arrived three days ago that once again shocked Darcy to his core. His Mother had never regained her full strength after Georgiana was born and had passed away in her sleep Three days before that. His mother had passed away in her sleep. He did not start speaking straight away, but this time both he and Wickham were called home so that they could pay their last respects to Darcy’s mother. The carriage had felt confined and restrictive as he and Wickham travelled home. Wickham was all that was disrespectful and seemed almost gleeful that his patroness was dead. Darcy turned away in pain and sorrow. It had been a long time since Wickham had been any kind of confidant for Darcy, and after the death of his best friend Darcy had not made any new f
riends. Darcy thought if he did something bad would happen to them too. Wickham’s jollity only drove Darcy’s internal monologue.
Mother, I’m sorry. I went back to school when I knew you were sick. If only I had been here, maybe I could have helped you. Maybe I could have done something that would have saved your life. I am my father’s son I should have seen that you were so unwell, I should have stayed home. Mother, please forgive me for being selfish and wanting to go back to school and my studies. If only I had been home. I could have looked after Georgiana more. I should have been a better son. I only wanted to make you proud. What must you have thought of me mother, leaving you at such a time as that! Mother this is all my fault. Somehow I seem to bring bad luck on people. Mother, I will be strong as you taught me to be. I will look after Georgiana for you, and I will be the son you always wanted me to be. Mother, I promise to keep your memory alive. On and on went Darcy’s internal monologue as he vowed to be a better son, and slowly tried to process his mother’s death.
Eventually, the carriage pulled up in front of Pemberley and Darcy opened the door before the carriage had even stopped. There on the front steps to welcome him home stood his father, his sister and their housekeeper Mrs Reynolds. Darcy ran not to his father, but straight to his little sister and said the first words that he had uttered in three years. “How big you’ve grown Georgiana” with that he picked his sister up and turned to his father, only registering what had just happened when he saw the proud, stunned look on his father’s careworn face. Darcy’s enforced silence was over, but his self-imposed one was just beginning.
“Father, I want to see mother,” he said as he hugged his father.
“Welcome home, Will. Your mother’s in the front parlour.” The tears in his father's eyes shook Darcy to the core, and there it was that he started to school the emotion out of his own face so as not to make things harder for his Father. Everybody must believe that Darcy was all right and that he was coping. He had to be strong for the everyone. Darcy’s father then embraced George Wickham and the whole party retired to the front parlour.
There in the front parlour laid out in her coffin was Darcy’s mother. She looked peaceful and had a slight knowing smile on her face. Darcy nearly broke when he saw his mother, but his strong will keep his tears from falling. He compared his mother’s face to his friends quickly and decided that he didn’t think his mother had suffered. Wickham was standing the other side of Darcy’s father and when he thought no one was watching a broad grin spread across his face. Darcy had seen it though and thought for a moment that it seemed that Wickham was glad that Darcy’s mother was gone. From that day forward, Darcy also noticed that Wickham was more attentive to his Father, and charmed old Mr Darcy more each and every day. Darcy and Wickham attended the funeral that was held the next day, and a few days later Darcy and Wickham returned to school. Two years later the two boys had started university at Cambridge.
1st September 1798
“Darcy I need to look after a new student is arriving tomorrow.” The headmaster of Eton requested. “His father is a tradesman in the North – not far from you actually. Anyway, he is to be the first generation to be educated as a gentleman. As a school, we can only give so much training, but if you were to take him and help him, then he will learn the manners of a gentleman much better.”
“Thank you for the honour, sir” Bugger, I cannot do this! I was supposed to look after Wickham, but he just gets worse and worse! “I’ll do my best for you and for him.”
“That’s all we can ask of you, Darcy.” That had been the end of yesterday’s discussion, and now Darcy waited in the common room to be summoned when the young man had arrived.
Darcy’s attention was attracted as a small boy of ten entered the room, and behind came a burly man whose presence seemed to fill the whole room in an uncomfortable sort of way. The boy was frolicking with his sisters and appeared to be filled with joy and a love of life. The siblings seemed wary as they looked at the man, but continued to frolic as the headmaster entered the common room behind them.
“Ah, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you are here. Please allow me to present to you Mr Bingley of the Manchester Millinery factories.” The Headmaster turned to the young boy that was frolicking around with his sisters, “and this is young Master Charles Bingley, who I told you about yesterday.” Charles Bingley looked at Darcy, and for some reason, the idea of a poor helpless animal came into Darcy’s mind. Darcy was slightly unsure for a mad moment what to do, as the Bingleys were clearly of an inferior status to himself, but the Bingley’s bows and curtsies should be acknowledged. The problem was solved for him though as Mr Bingley spoke up, “Thank you for agreeing to help my son in his endeavours to become a gentleman.”
“You’re welcome sir” and with this Darcy grasped Mr Bingley’s hand in a firm handshake.
“Come along, Mary, Caroline.” Mr Bingley said, “We need to get you to your schools in London before nightfall.” The two girls hugged their brother, and then quickly followed their father from the room to their carriage, with that they were gone, and the headmaster left the two boys to become acquainted, and what followed was a firm friendship that was to last for the rest of their lives.
14th March 1807
Darcy and Wickham were preparing to leave Cambridge. From here their paths were to diverge. Wickham would return to his studies and train for his ordination into the Church, and Darcy was to go on his European Grand Tour. The war with France had made continental travel difficult, but still, Darcy was anxious to go and experience life in different cities and cultures. Just as they were heading to the carriage that would be taking them back to Derbyshire, Darcy was interrupted “I’m sorry sir” the butler intoned, but this letter just arrived express for you.” Darcy grabbed the letter off the salver and hastily opened it. He was summoned home, his father was gravely ill. Oh God, other than nursemaids who is looking after Georgiana? I hope my Aunt Lady Catherine does not know, she’ll frighten poor Georgie out of her wits. I must away, NOW!
“Wickham, in the carriage NOW!” Darcy yelled sprinting to the door, a bemused Wickham following behind. Darcy had a quick exchange with his driver and then bolted inside the carriage ahead of Wickham. Wickham wanting to annoy Darcy, took his time as he casually sauntered towards the carriage.
“So help me, Wickham. Get your arse in this carriage immediately!” Shocked Wickham could only clamber in, and he had barely sat down when the door was slammed shut, and the carriage started to move at an astounding rate.
“What the hell was that all about?” Wickham blustered. He knew he had no right to question Darcy, but the intimacy they had as boys had not yet fully left.
“It’s father he’s gravely ill. Mrs Reynolds wrote to hurry my departure home. We’ll be driving throughout the night so as to get to Pemberley tomorrow evening.”
“As you wish” Wickham shrugged, he barely concealed his lack of interest in the fact that his Godfather and Benefactor was dying, something that Darcy had not missed but chose to say nothing.
What shape is Pemberley in? The spring plantings must have already been planned. There’s so much to do, where do I start? Darcy’s inner monologue started. However, over the years Darcy had become better at dealing with his inner thoughts and slowly he wrote in his journal all his concerns and worries. He then proceeded to list all the various questions that he had for the man who should the worst happen would be his steward. The first thing Darcy needed to do after seeing his father, would be to go over the ledgers and meet with his steward. Darcy sighed. He was only Two and twenty. He had no experience, and his reserved nature had always hampered him in society, after one dance or one conversation he would be avoided. His closest friends only saw the mask that he wore. Now he must be strong. Georgiana must be his first priority. The poor girl is barely ten years old. What is to be done about Georgiana? I couldn’t part with her or send her away, not now, she’s the only close family I have. However, it’s not right that she should be brought up by
a young man who has no experience either. Hopefully, father will have a sensible solution to my dilemma. Father…. Yet again I am away from home when disaster strikes my family. What have I done wrong? Why am I being punished like this?
Darcy made as quick progress as he could from Cambridge and ran into the house when they arrived. However, it was too late. George Darcy had passed from the world, and Fitzwilliam Darcy was left as joint guardian, with his cousin the younger son of the Earl _____, to a sister more than ten years his junior, and extensive property. His European Grand Tour was cancelled. A heavy mantle had descended on his shoulders, and he shouldered it bravely.
George Darcy had barely been in his Grave a week when Wickham entered his study begging for his inheritance. “Wickham, by the terms of the will you are entitled to one thousand pounds and the living at Kympton.”
“I have a mind that I would prefer to study the Law, rather than be a clergyman” Wickham smirked.
Good! The idea of you being a clergyman is repulsive on every level! “All right, come back in three days time I will have the paperwork ready for you to sign, both for receipt of your inheritance and your resignation of the rights to the living. However, should you approach for preferment after resignation all aid in the church will be null and void, no preferment shall be offered nor shall help be given.” I will not have you chopping and changing, nor will I have the young women of the parish at risk because of you! You are unsuitable for the office of curate or reverend in the church. No, no aid will be forthcoming.
“If it is to be so absolute then surely some sort of remuneration should be offered? Say the value of the Living? Ten thousand pounds perhaps? It would aid in my studying the Law, as you know, the interest on one thousand pounds is not enough to study the Law on.” Wickham said.
1811-1812 How It All Began- Part 1 Page 3