Giving Characters Context
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Finishing In Westminster’s Halls allows me to reflect on how I treat the characters. An essential part of my process is to try to really understand how those who populate my books think. This is not in opposition to what Austen did when she laid down the pigments of the originals.
However, Austen was writing characters familiar to the readers of her books. Many knew a Darcy or an Edward Ferrars. There were women in their orbit who were Lizzy Bennets or Emma Woodhouses. And, sadly, too many Caroline Bingleys floated around the edges of their lives. Although caricature, they could nod at a ridiculous Mr. Collins, a pompous Sir Walter, or a fearful Mr. Woodhouse. In their small world, these fictions were not the invention of A Lady’s fertile imagination but rather as familiar as the gossip sheet’s Miss B_________, Lord M________, or Mr. W__________.
In the twenty-first century, we are at a disadvantage not in that we do not know people like Austen’s characters but rather in that we are unfamiliar with the context within which early nineteenth-century people lived. Thus, as writers, we must be honest with our characters and readers when developing our stories.
I will not discuss variation versus emulation. Suffice it to say that I try to achieve a degree of verite that uses Austen as a starting point for original work. That suggests that the portraits I offer are consistent with how I imagine Darcy, Bennet, Elizabeth, or Georgiana might have thought and responded based on the type of lives they led, especially regarding religion and education.
I do not write from a Christian perspective. I adhere more closely to the Enlightenment creed of deism. However, the characters wore their High Church religious beliefs like a cloak. It was an integral part of their existence. They were not fanatics, having “enjoyed” the Puritanical excesses of the Commonwealth, but what they imbibed weekly seemed well intertwined within their personalities. That leads me to have them use Christian imagery in their explanations of the world.
[Jane to Lizzy as she pines for Mr. Darcy after the escape from town to throw the anti-abolishment camp off their scent.]
“And what was your response, my oh-so-in-the-present sister? You told him that, like St. Peter in the high priest’s courtyard, he would deny you—must deny you—three times.”
That Jane Bennet would refer to the Passion is thoroughly logical. To her, it fits perfectly as a way to explain to Elizabeth why Mr. Darcy HAD to reject her, even though, like St. Peter, he was her Rock.
As for education, the men of Austen were well-educated. They would logically name their horses after Romans and use classical references. For instance, after the successful vote abolishing the slave trade, the Speaker of the House of Commons comes up to Bennet to laud him.
“Your display of raw courage could only have been more forceful if that large gentleman over there had carried you in on a litter to rest beneath the box and mace! However, you chose to stand on the floor, crutches and all: Horatius at the bridge! You are the man of the Cause, at least for today.”
Even Darcy would lean on his classical education. Bingley could try his patience.
Darcy mentally ran the declension of several Latin verbs. There were moments when Bingley was less a floppy-eared retriever and more like Richard, a shepherd from Flanders, alert to exploitable weakness. However, like the colonel, Bingley did not speak to injure but to cause questions and bring awareness. He also was uncommonly prescient regarding affairs of the heart, although he wore his maturity like new boots.
As I write, I find the characters become more authentic if I imagine them having rich intellectual landscapes growing from their lives leading up to the point we see them. That means using each part of them to bring us a developed character.
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Until then, please enjoy this excerpt from “In Westminster’s Halls” ©2024 by Donald P. Jacobson. Reproduction Prohibited. Target date for release is 7/20/24.
Chapter Forty-six
Billiard room, Darcy House, later that same day
Darcy’s cue sent its target into one cushion. His off-white cue then glanced off the red, spinning that ball to oscillate around the corner opposite, slowly losing momentum. In the meantime, Darcy’s ball caromed off another two cushions before rolling to its rest, kissing Bingley’s white, moving it barely an inch on the green baize, and effectively blocking any reply.
Bingley groaned. “That’s two points again, Darcy! I thought I had you when we tied at one each, and we both went three tries without scoring. How you can see those shots is beyond me, especially since I was the one who got a first in maths!”[i]
Darcy smiled and commiserated. “Bingley, be fair to yourself. You usually hold your own with me but focus on other matters. Something blonde and standing about this high?” His hand came up to shoulder height and earned him Bingley’s blush.
Man or woman, those with ginger hair wear their hearts on their faces. Even his sister, Caroline, although I doubt if she has ever been embarrassed, flushes no matter how much she tries to hide her emotional arousal. There is a fortuitous choice of words because the lady consistently goes red when she is within six feet of my person.
Charles snorted. “Laugh at me at your peril, Darcy. I might toss that back at you by asking about a pair of very fine eyes and chocolate locks!
“Or are you unaffected by Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s absence? I scanned how you two were tête á tête two Sundays past. Has she managed to find a chink in your vaunted Darcy armor which has protected your heart from every miss who has set her cap for you?”
Darcy glowered and said snappishly, “What were the stakes, Bingley? A guinea a game? Since I swept you, how about leaving it there so you can afford to fund your sister’s dowry when the time comes?”
Bingley laid his cue stick on the table. “From your mouth to God’s ears: the way Caroline has approached the marriage mart the past two seasons, I doubt any man will come to my door begging for her hand. I will likely have to release the principal to her in another year or two.
“Darcy, I have a few bottles of a delightful pre-Rebellion Remy cognac, so it’s about forty years old. I’d spot you a flagon in place of my debt.
“But, old friend, you will not easily shake the hook. I may have much to learn about the world, but my love for Miss Bennet has opened my eyes. I can see what even you may be unwilling to countenance, let alone admit.
“You and Miss Elizabeth are as guilty as anyone.”
Darcy froze. The word ‘guilt’ was usually associated with moral failure. On the dark side of his ledger, one stood out above the rest: Ramsgate. “Guilty?”
Realizing that his bolt may have gone awry, Bingley circled the table and placed a calming hand on Darcy’s tense shoulder, a common condition for over a fortnight. “I was implying that both of you are equally culpable in the most beautiful sin.
“You and Miss Elizabeth are both guilty of committing love!”
Darcy mentally ran the declension of several Latin verbs. There were moments when Bingley was less a floppy-eared retriever and more like Richard, a shepherd from Flanders, alert to exploitable weakness. However, like the colonel, Bingley did not speak to injure but to cause questions and bring awareness. He also was uncommonly prescient regarding affairs of the heart, although he wore his maturity like new boots.
“I would not accuse you of being ham-handed, Bingley,” Darcy wryly returned, “but you need to be careful throwing around words like ‘guilty.’ Another gentleman might not have been willing to hear you out and, instead, have invited you to a dawn breakfast on Hampstead Heath.”
Bingley guffawed. “I look forward to the day you challenge me if only to see your thunderous expression. I assure you that my apology will be swift. I know you are deadly with both pistol and saber, and I have no plans to be separated from Jane by anything but old age.
“Come now, Darcy, confess to your old friend Charles: you are missing the younger Miss Bennet as much as I do her older sister.”
Darcy assumed an impassive look that bordered on blissful ignorance. “The younger Miss Bennet? Of whom do you speak? Miss Mary? She is a bit juvenile for me, more Georgiana’s age, but I guess if your tastes tend that way…”
Bingley's chuckle filled the room. “Stop now. I do not doubt some peoples in the Great Southern Ocean might find Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia of marriageable age. Could you not play the cackbrain with me? You know I mean Miss Elizabeth.”
“Ohhhhhh…that Miss Bennet!” Darcy drawled. Then his face softened. “Yes, Charles, I do feel her absence keenly. Unlike you and her sister, where Miss Bennet’s first impression—and yours—was of mutual attraction, I stuck my foot in the cesspit and stirred it around when I first saw Miss Elizabeth. Then, for good measure, I pulled that one out and stuck the other in the mire.
“We are barely at the beginning, although I have my hopes.
“She is just twenty-odd miles away, but she might as well be on one of Saturn’s moons, visible only through Herr Herschel’s great telescope. I would give half of Pemberley to be able to debate Miss Elizabeth, if only for a minute!”
Bingley reached over and tapped his knuckles on Darcy’s forehead. “I cannot tell if it is solid wood or hollow and filled with sawdust. What a revelation this newfound obtuseness!
“Are you serious that you cannot conceive how to send your musings to Miss Elizabeth?
“Ought we visit your solicitor now to prepare the deeds? Given how much Caroline gushes over the wonders of Pemberley, I am sure she will be over the moon with this turn of events.
“Oh, wait: you are not part of the bargain?”
Darcy became impatient; another mannerism exacerbated since the Bennet women had returned to Meryton. “Enough of this japing about. You are as bad as Richard! Out with it!”
Bingley made to look injured and complained to the walls. “See, children, how quickly friends turn on you.” He threw his hands up in submission. “All right, Darcy, ’tis rare that I can flip the tables on you by seeing something you cannot.
“Think, man: how might someone communicate with a lady without causing trouble? If her father permits them because he has allowed a courtship!
“And where is the young lady’s father right now? Upstairs in this very house!
“I also wager that the lady’s mother, who resides at the other end of this suggested correspondence, would be willing to transmit messages found inside a letter from her husband.
“Mr. Bennet was more than accommodating when I asked if I could write to Jane. He promised to include a note in his next to Mrs. Bennet.
“Now that I have brought the mountain to you, I need to stretch my legs. Yesterday’s first reading of the bill left me in need of exercise. A walk is what I need. I will join you for dinner. If I spend another three hours listening to Caroline and Louisa savage other women while Hurst snores, I will become thoroughly distracted.”[ii]
Darcy fell back from his friend. His desire for Elizabeth had blinded him, making him fearful of asking Mr. Bennet what he had to against the chance the man would refuse him. How he wished he could unburden himself of the false personality’s foul rags that had bound him for a fortnight.
Yet, he stopped just as his leg muscles were bunching to charge from the room and vault up the stairs. Caution reared its head. Darcy called Charles back. “I cannot write to her. The man I am playing would have nothing to do with a country girl with no connections. I sent her away.
“Please do not mention me in your note to Miss Bennet. I fear for Elizabeth’s safety if, against all odds, the message falls into the wrong hands and wicked people learn of my interest.”
Bingley shook his head. “I understand your concern. Right now, our adversaries think Mr. Bennet is recuperating in Hertfordshire. Imagine the hellfire they would rain down if they discovered our deception.
“We have been cautious with Mr. Bennet’s mail. Wilson carries letters to Jermyn Street before using one of Fitzwilliam’s retired dragoons as a courier. Our foes may fight the Cause without giving quarter, but even they will not risk attacking a rider carrying government dispatches.”[iii]
Darcy was not mollified and paced the room. “We cannot be lulled into thinking our opponents are too occupied now that the bill has moved to the Commons. The public men will not dirty their hands with murderous affrays. They have people for that.
“Those like Gascoyne and Tarleton are engaged in Westminster’s cloakrooms and coffeehouses. They are bidding up ‘nays’ as if they owned the Royal Mint!
“Was I to turn you loose, you could probably bank an easy five hundred!
“For his part, Grenville and his associates have dropped Mr. Pitt’s tariff for baronetcies from the customary twenty thousand to a figurative “10/6” for a confirmed ‘yea.’[iv]
“Lest you think the prime minister’s operatives are novices, they are making certain that their targets’ wives are utterly aware of what they offer the husband. Few men can fight a bright-eyed woman anticipating being announced at a ball in her neighborhood as Lady So-and-So.
“But I cannot expose Elizabeth to the chance that Wickham’s employers will turn their eyes again to the Bennets. We saw what happened the first time they did that!”
He shrugged in resignation. “I will have to stay the course lest someone smells a rat. I must believe that Elizabeth has enough faith in my word not to read too much into my silence.
“Now, go, Bingley. The day wanes and you may get caught out by darkness. ’Tis too late in the day to send off a rider to Longbourn, so you hanging about will accomplish nothing except to remind me of my dolorous separation.”
[i] Darcy and Bingley are playing three-cushion billiards, an insanely difficult form of the game, but what do you expect from our boys?
[ii] The House of Lords sent the slave trade bill to the House of Commons for its first reading on February 10, 1807. Considerable debate ensued before the bill was scheduled for its second reading on February 23, 1807.
[iii] I have used Jermyn Street as the location for the headquarters of British Intelligence, of which Colonel Fitzwilliam is the chief.
[iv] William Pitt the Younger was Prime Minister from 1783-1800, 1801, and 1804 to his death in January 1806. A common manner to keep party coffers filled for use in elections to purchase votes and in Parliament to do the same, Pitt was well-known for selling baronetcies and other preferments. I was looking for a metaphor in English literature for something inexpensive and struck upon an illustration of the Hatter in Through the Looking Glass. The slip of paper stuck in his hatband, “In this style 10/6,” refers to the price of a hat, certainly something quite cheap for a man like Darcy.