Amanda Grange: Edmund Bertram's Diary

Wednesday 3 September

And so my father has gone, and I am in charge of his affairs. I rose early, conscious of how much there was to do, and after spending the morning with the steward, so that I could refresh my mind as to my duties for the coming month, this afternoon I began on them in earnest. Dinner-time came quickly and I hesitated before taking my father’s place. It seemed strange to sit in his chair and carve the meat, providing a focus at the head of the table. And afterwards, when the ladies withdrew, I was conscious of how alone I was, for without Tom and my father to talk to I sat in state by myself. I quickly repaired to the drawing-room where the others were gathered.

‘Well, Edmund, and so we are alone, and must get used to being alone, for who knows when we may see Sir Thomas again?’ said my aunt with a sigh.

‘He has gone for a year, not for ever,’ I said.

‘I only hope it may be so,’ she said, relishing the new situation and determined to make a drama of it. ‘But who knows what may happen to a man, once he leaves his own fireside? There are villains everywhere. At this very minute, Sir Thomas may be in the power of pirates.’

‘Sir Thomas will not have been caught by pirates, will he?’ asked Mama, stirring.

‘I hardly think so,’ I told her.

‘Who can say?’ countered Aunt Norris. ‘The sea is a very unsafe place. And if he has not been captured by pirates, then what other dangers might he not be facing? There are typhoons and tidal waves... I shall not be surprised if Sir Thomas is shipwrecked, only to return to us after fifteen years with long white hair and a beard.’

Mama was alarmed.

‘Do not say so! I have never been able to abide a beard,’ she said.

‘Depend upon it, he will have fine weather and make the crossing in a month,’ I told her.

‘If he is not set upon by an enemy vessel,’ said my aunt, ‘for then he will be thrown into the sea, as like as not, and eaten by a whale.’

Fanny heroically distracted my aunt’s attention, allowing us to pass the rest of the evening without any further visions fit for one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels.

Wednesday 31 December

The last day of the year, and nothing terrible has happened. Papa has not been shipwrecked, nor has he drowned in a storm, nor been eaten by a whale. And I have managed to maintain the estate and family without them suffering any calamities either, for which I am truly thankful. I was able to write to Papa today and tell him that the estate is flourishing; that Maria and Julia are fast becoming the belles of the neighborhood; and that Fanny’s strength is improving by virtue of her daily rides. I gave him news of Mama and Aunt Norris, and sent him my best wishes for his affairs in Antigua.

I have survived the year, and I only hope I can survive the next one, so that I can hand both estate and family back to my father and turn my attention to my own life again.

Wednesday 27 May

I am beset with problems on every side. Having just returned from my dealings with the bank in London I found that Fanny’s grey pony had died, and that neither Mama nor Aunt Norris had thought of buying her another one. I said at once that I meant to rectify the situation, only to find myself blocked at every turn.

‘There is no need to buy a pony just for Fanny. I am sure she does not expect it,’ said my aunt, as though that justified the omission.

Mama said she might borrow Maria’s horse, or Julia’s, but on enquiring, I found out that my sisters’ horses were never free in fine weather, and of what use would it be for Fanny to ride in the rain?

‘That is true,’ said Mama.

‘But there is no need to buy something especially,’ said my aunt. ‘There must be an old thing among the horses belonging to the Park that would do. Why, I am sure Fanny could borrow one from the steward whenever she wanted one. That would be a much better solution.’

‘No young lady of Mansfield Park will ride a steward’s horse,’ I told her. She switched to another tack, saying my father would not want her to have one.

‘Indeed, it would be improper for Fanny, situated as she is, to have a young lady’s horse, quite as though she were a daughter of the house,’ said my aunt. ‘The distinctions of rank must be preserved. Sir Thomas himself said so. It would not do to let Fanny get above herself.’

‘Fanny is the last person in the world who would ever get above herself. Besides, she must have a horse. Do you not agree?’ I appealed to Mama.

‘Oh, yes, to be sure, she must have a horse. As soon as Sir Thomas comes home she must have one. Only leave it to him, Edmund. Your father will know what to do, and it is not so very long until September, when he returns.’

‘It is four months, and Fanny cannot go without her exercise for so long, particularly in the summer months.’

‘Your father would not agree with the idea, I am sure,’ said my aunt, shaking her head, ‘and to be making such a purchase, with his money, in his absence, when his affairs are unsettled seems to me to be a very wrong thing. It is not only the expense of the purchase, but the expense of keeping the animal.’

Against my will, I found myself agreeing with her. My father’s last letter spoke of ever dwindling profits, and I could tell how worried he was.

I was at a stand, and I walked over to the window, displeased. I was determined to secure to Fanny the pleasure of regular outings, but I could not see how to do it, until, glancing across the park, I saw my own horses being given their exercise. I immediately saw a way round the problem.

‘I must give Fanny one of my horses,’ I said.

‘There is no need for you to inconvenience yourself, that would be quite wrong. You, a Bertram, and a son of the house, to give up one of your horses? I am sure Fanny would be the first to protest against it. Besides, your horses are not fit for a woman to ride. Two of them are hunters and the third is a road horse. They are all of them far too strong and spirited. Fanny would fall and break her neck, most likely,’ said Aunt Norris.

Knowing she was right, I decided to exchange one of my horses for an animal that Fanny can ride. I know where one is to be met with, and I mean to look it over tomorrow.

Monday 8 June

I have been rewarded for my small trouble by seeing Fanny so happy. The new mare suits her very well.

‘I never thought anything could replace the old grey pony in my affections, but my delight in the mare is so far beyond my former pleasure... It is so good of you... I cannot express my gratitude.’

‘There is no need for gratitude between friends,’ I said, smiling. ‘It is enough for me to see you happy and well. shall we ride to the stone cross? Then we can discuss Shakespeare on the way. I have barely seen you since I returned from London, and I have had no one to discuss poetry with whilst I was away.’

The summer afternoon was such as to encourage our taste for poetry and we returned in a happy mood, to while away the evening in the same manner.

Saturday 12 September

It is a good thing I did not wait for my father to come home before providing Fanny with a horse, for I had a letter from him this morning saying that his affairs are still in such a state that he cannot come home until next year. I was not as alarmed by this as I would have been a few months ago, for I have learnt how to manage the estate and I believe it to be prospering.

Friday 25 September

We have all been thrown into an uproar, for Tom is home! He arrived late this afternoon, as careless and laughing as ever, but as brown as a nut, and with hair so bleached by the sun it resembled a piece of driftwood. He was barely recognizable, being slimmer and fitter than when he went away, with his eyes looking so green in the brown of his face that my aunt was moved to say that they looked like a pair of emeralds.