A Return to Purvis Lodge

Follow the link here to find the intersection of HMS Acasta and Jane Austen!

Purvis Lodge part IX

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it -- or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."

Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 50

Part IX

It was two weeks before Sir James’ grand ball at Purvis Lodge when disaster struck! 

Unbeknownst to the new owner, the old timbers that held the roof in place were brittle and rotten causing the largest section of roof to collapse, doing a great deal of damage to the upper floors. Fortunately, there had been no one occupying the upstairs when the roof fell in and no one was injured when it came crashing down.

Sir James sent a messenger from the village to the Acasta and bade the Carpenter, his mates and crew to bring their tools along to the house to help clear and repair the damage. Afterward, news of the tragedy at the old place traveled quickly about the village at Stoke and surrounding areas. Surely, they all surmised, the ball would have to be cancelled. 

He was out on the lawn when the Carpenter and his crew arrived the next day. Instead of a few men with tools, it looked as though the entire ship’s complement had volunteered to help their captain recover. 

The Captain was moved by the outpouring of generosity from his men and his steward Higgins swore he espied a tear in Sir James’ eye as the men approached the house. There were dozens of faces he recognized from his service over the years. Mr. Apple, the ship’s carpenter stepped forward with a tool box under his arm, flanked by his mates.

“Reporting as ordered sir.” Apple saluted, looking over the captain’s head at the collapsed roof behind him. He was already sizing up the damage.

Ship's Carpenter, Jas. Apple

“You were only to bring your crew and mates Mr. Apple.” the Captain eyed the mob of sailors.

“Aye sir,” Apple smiled, “but when the men heard what had happened, they all wanted to come and make themselves useful. And if I may sir, many of them are close to rating as Carpenter’s crew in my opinion.”

“Duly noted Mr. Apple. Well, they shall all have their opportunity, there is plenty to be done.” Sir James replied with a great, defeated sigh.

“Where would you have us begin sir?” Apple asked.

Captain Rehme rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, as the great group of men assembled looked on, eager to get to it.

“Let us divide the men into parties.” He finally answered, “We shall need timber felled and milled, that can be done right here on the property. We shall need men to venture upstairs to remove the furniture and debris.”

“And there will need to be other parties, which you may organize and employ as you see fit of course.”

“Aye sir, thank you sir.” Apple nodded and turned to begin assembling the groups that would begin to undertake the tasks he deemed of the first import.

Sir James looked to the sailors and shouted in his quarterdeck tone, “Men, I thank you for coming to me in my hour of need. In turn, I think it only fitting that I take care of you. Therefore, each one of you here will be paid for your efforts in addition to your monthly wage!”

The men gave a great cheer at the idea of their ‘prize money’.

When their raucous approbation died down, Rehme continued, “Pass the word for Volunteer First Class Thomas!”

From the back of the pack, the men urged the lad forward. Thomas was the smallest of the boys that had volunteered from the ship and was known to be very quiet and shy.

Young Mr. Thomas came to a stop at the Captain’s feet. Rehme spoke to him in a voice loud enough to be overheard by the rest of the men.

“Mr. Thomas, I have a special task for you. You are to go into the village to the tavern and purchase all the beer they have and have it delivered here to the house.” He pressed some coins into the boy’s hand, “Let Mr. Martin, the tapster know that I have some thirsty brutes about the premises!”

Rehme’s men gave another great cheer, their tools held aloft in celebration, as Mr. Thomas ran down the drive toward the village with the money clenched in his fist.

Purvis Lodge Part VIII

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it -- or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."

Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 50

Part VIII

The order of a barrel of Mr. Martin’s beer to be delivered to Purvis Lodge every other week continued to stand all summer long. Martin would deliver the fresh barrel and Mr. Higgins, the sailor that took care of the kitchen, would return the old barrel. Martin had learned that Mr. Higgins was the Captain personal steward when they were aboard ship and that Higgins had been with Sir James in one capacity or another for years.

The talk in the nearby village of Stoke was that a famous artist had taken up temporary residence with Sir James. It was a rumour that Mr. Martin would later be able to confirm to his neighbors’ delight when, as he was passing the walled garden at the back of the house, Sir James called out to him from within.

“Mr. Martin! Mr. Martin, a moment if you please!” he shouted in a voice accustomed to making itself heard.

Martin stopped the cart and made his way through the garden gate. There, against the stone of the house stood Sir James, in full dress uniform, gold lace and medals glistening in the sunlight. A few yards away was the artist in a paint covered smock, seated at a stained, wooden easel that held a great canvas. Martin stopped right next to the artist and took off his hat.

“I’m pleased to have caught you Mr. Martin!” Sir James said whilst striking a heroic pose against the house. He did not move as he spoke and the artist sketched on.

“I plan to host a grand ball here at the house next month and not only would I like to order three extra barrels of beer for the occasion, but I should like to retain you to act as the tapster and serve it to my guests that night if you are willing?”

A gentle clearing of the throat from the artist prompted Sir James to put his right arm back into its original position.

“Why certainly sir,” Martin answered, “it would be my pleasure to do so.”

“Very good!” Sir James bellowed, “Are you a married man Mr. Martin?”

“No sir, I’m afraid not.” he shifted his hat in his hands.

“By God, after my ball, there’ll be wives enough for the whole lot of us! I intend to invite every young woman in the county and even a few of the old ones!” the Acasta captain laughed.

Suddenly aware that he had moved out of his heroic pose, Sir James snapped back, left hand on sword hilt, right hand extended, gazing off into some ethereal distance.

“I’ve not had a proper portrait painted since I was a boy.” Sir James confided, “But I am undecided if this new portrait ought to hang in the sitting room or the dining room”

Mr. Martin felt sure this was not a debate that required his opinion.

Sir James frowned, “I am uncertain I wish to see myself whilst I eat.”

Purvis Lodge part VII

Part VII

The bulk of the work was nearly complete at Purvis Lodge. Sir James, the new owner, had sent half of the sailors back to the ship having completed the necessary tasks and improvements in even less time than he had thought, and he was sure to send them back to the ship with their pockets full of extra shillings for doing so. Less than a dozen men and boys from the Acasta were still on the property, they were in charge of the daily tasks and the care and running of the house. Mr. Higgins had even been moved into the kitchen proper.

One  afternoon, a party of the boys had been sent out to gather great baskets of kindling from the wilderness at the back of the property. They returned instead with a skinny milk cow lead with a length of rope.

Sir James met them at the back of the house, by the walled garden. He was in his banyon and had been pulling up weeds and dead growth for the last hour.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sir James called out from the little stone porch. 

“Sir. sir!” Mr. Thomas, the youngest of the boys cried excitedly and out of breath, “We found her in the woods back behind the pasture.”

Volunteer First Class Mr. Linden, who was the oldest boy of the lot at twelve, knuckled his forehead and continued, “We think she was one of the milk cows owned by the previous fellow, and she must’ve been left here. We found a few chickens too when we first arrived. The pasture wall has a great hole in it where a tree fell and we think she got out there and has been wandering the back side of the estate ever since.”

“Heavens, look at the poor beast!” exclaimed Sir James. 

In fact, Linden was correct, the poor, skinny milk cow had indeed been left in the pasture after the death of the last owner of Purvis Lodge. She was thin, scarred and filthy from her adventures in the wild.

“I’ve never owned a cow of my own before.” Sir James mused, “I find I scarcely know what to do with her.”

“She looks awful hungry sir.” Linden added, looking back at her with genuine affection.

“Indeed she does, I suppose she’s been forced to forage all this time. Let’s see to her feeding and watering.” the Captain ordered.

Linden spoke up again, “Me and the boys could make repairs in the pasture wall and she’d have a place to stay again sir.”

“Ah, a capital idea.” Sir James replied, “How long would the repairs take Mr. Linden?”

Linden looked at his group of boys, there were four of them, “I should say about two hours to clear the fallen tree and restack the stone sir.”

“Very good Mr. Linden then let’s be about it, it’s your party.” Sir James smiled.

“Aye sir, thank you sir.” he saluted and they all ran off down back toward the pasture, leaving the captain’s new cow tied to the gate of the garden wall.

Purvis Lodge part VI

Part VI

At midday a week later, Mr. Martin heard the familiar creak of the door of the ‘Plow’ as it admitted, what was hopefully, a customer. Business had been slow since the sailors from Purvis Lodge had stopped ordering beer by the barrel and visiting the tavern in the evenings. He was upstairs tending some cleaning and could not immediately attend the newcomer.

“I’ll be right down.” Martin called out.

“In your own time sir!” came the reply from downstairs, it was a large, booming man’s voice.

A moment later, Martin shuffled down the stairs, broom and rag in hand, to find the owner of the voice. He was seated at a table by the door and rose when Martin approached.

“You must be Mr. Martin?” exclaimed the newcomer thrusting out his hand for a shake.

Mr. Martin shook his hand and answered to the affirmative, looking the new gentleman up and down. He was clad in a naval captain’s uniform and epaulettes, and in Martin’s mind there could be no doubt as to the identity of the man.

“Are you the new master of Purvis Lodge sir?” he asked.

“I am sir! I am Captain Sir James Robert Rehme, only just moved in yesterday.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you sir” Martin gave a little bow and invited the captain to have a seat again.

“I understand you have been supplying my men up at the lodge with beer. Is that the case?” Sir James asked.

“Aye sir, I have.”

“Ah! God save you sir!” Sir James replied, “They have been about some thirsty work, and on board ship they are supplied with a quantity of beer daily. I was affeared they might mutiny if they didn’t find someone nearby to supply them. And you were paid adequately for the quantities they purchased?”

“Oh yes sir.”

“I have walked all the way here from the house in an attempt to familiarize myself with the lay of the land, as it were. I wonder if I might trouble you for some of that beer I’ve heard so much about?”

“I offer three kinds sir.” Martin already had an empty pitcher in hand, “Small beer, table beer and strong beer.”

“A pitcher of the strong if you please sir.”

Martin filled the pitcher and took it, along with a clean glass over to the captain’s table. Sir James drank it in great gulps, a man who was obviously very thirsty from his hike from the Lodge.

“And you brew this here?” Sir James asked, pausing from his glass.

“I do sir, I brew all my own beer.”

“I wonder,” began Sir James, pausing to have another sip, “I wonder if I might prevail upon you to submit a standing order of a barrel of this beer every other week to be delivered to the lodge?”

Purvis Lodge part V

Part V

A week later, Mr. Martin had the blacksmith and his two strapping apprentices, whose shop was located conveniently across the road from the Plow, help him to heave the fresh barrels of beer into his cart for his delivery out to Purvis Lodge. They were nearly done with their task when a big black carriage drawn by a handsome matching set of chestnuts passed them on the main road that ran through the middle of the village. It wasn’t one of the carriages anyone knew from nearby Haye-Park, it was of a newer manufacture that no one recognised. 

Martin and the blacksmiths craned their necks in an attempt to get a look at the occupants of the carriage, and everyone on the street outside the shops did the same, all eager to get a first glimpse of who must surely be the new tenant of Purvis Lodge. It was to no avail, the shades were drawn low enough to obscure any passengers who may have dwelt within.

Their disappointment was lessened when, shortly thereafter, two large wagons loaded with crates and furniture passed through. Each wagon’s cargo was piled as high as safety would allow, lashed down with ropes tied in the most seaman-like fashion, and riding escort along the sides of each, clutching the ropes as they went, were sailors, their braids trailing out behind them.

Scarcely had the dust settled before the speculation began afresh all over the village as to the identity of the new master of Purvis Lodge.

When, sometime later, Mr. Martin finally turned the now familiar corner up the drive, the front of the lodge was bristling with activity. The number of sailors about the place seemed to have doubled with the arrival of the furniture, and the wagons that towed it in were nearly empty now, their contents having been offloaded and positioned in the yard like a vast staging ground. All hands were busy about their appointed tasks, several opening the crates and boxes, some were watering and feeding the horses, over there was Nithercott, who looked to be paying the wagon-masters, several of the boys were coiling ropes into neat piles and stowing them in camp.

A party of sailors was wrestling with what looked to be a vast, dark wardrobe as Martin stopped his cart as close to Mr. Higgins’ kitchen as he could. His way was checked by the carriage, which was drawn right up beside the cookfire.

Martin made his way around it in an attempt to find Higgins, and sure enough, he was there by the fire, in as clean an apron as ever he could muster. He had a little silver tray with a cup of coffee and two hard boiled eggs, and was offering it to a young man in a crisp naval lieutenant’s uniform. The young lieutenant took the coffee and looked across it with disdain at the approaching Martin. Mr. Higgins muttered to the young gentleman from behind, and in way of reply, the lieutenant exclaimed, “Ah! The pub man.” and with a dismissive sweep of his hand he continued, “You may place the beer over there.”

“Begging your pardon sir,” Martin interjected, “I wonder if I might be allowed to borrow a few of your men to unload the barrels?”

The young lieutenant looked pained, “I am certain you would never intentionally give offence, but I am the son of the third Duke of Grafton. Lord William Fitzroy, only recently assigned to His Majesty’s Frigate Acasta.”

“Begging your pardon again my lord.” Martin gave a little nod of the head and immediately stopped making direct eye contact.

Lord Fitzroy turned to see what the sailors were about in an attempt to ascertain which ones were the least busy, then called out in a voice that was quite accustomed to making itself heard, “Philips, Miller, Thomas, Nithercott! Lay along to the horse cart there and fetch down those barrels! Lively now!”

The four men met Martin at the back of the cart and after they had gotten the first of the barrels down, Martin found himself beside Nithercott. 

“Is his Lordship the new master of Purvis Lodge?” he quietly inquired of the sailor as they heaved down the second barrel.

“Oh no sir,” Nithercott replied, but stopped when he looked over the barrel toward the young lieutenant and found him glowering at them as they worked. Nithercott no longer felt at his ease to answer any questions and they continued to work silently until the task was completed.

Purvis Lodge part IV

Part IV

When Mr. Martin arrived two days later, it was early morning, and the sailors were all down by the road singing and swinging scythes to cut the overgrown lawn. He stopped the horse cart in the shade of a copse of trees along the road and watched them, it being an exceptionally efficient operation. Ten men were spread out in a line, and would swing their scythes in unison near the end of each verse, 

Safe and sound and HOME again

Let the waters ROLL jack

Two men were by the old gate grinding the age and corrosion off several extra blades, and the youngest sailors, only boys really, were gathering the fresh cut grass in their arms in great bunches and carrying it up toward the house. 

One of the boys was gathering grass near him and Martin called out to him over the low stone wall, “Wherever did they find so many scythes?”

The toe-headed boy turned and squinted, the sun being full in his face, “On account they was in the ol’ barn sir.” he said.

Martin urged his horse onward and up the path to Purvis Lodge, stopping near Mr. Higgins’ outdoor kitchen once again with his cart full of beer. The sailors had all the empty barrels gathered there for him to take back to the Plow.

“Good morning Mr. Higgins.” Martin offered as he got down out of the cart, and for the life of him he thought he heard Higgins offer something to the effect of a reply he could nearly understand. 

Higgins brought Martin a cup of coffee and made, what Martin could only interpret as a friendly face. The old sailor spoke, and Martin only understood the final slurred word, which seemed to be “SIR”. Higgins’ statement had the intonation of a question about it, and the old fellow looked at him, eyebrows raised, expectant for an answer, but Martin found himself quite at a loss.

After a brief pause, each man looked about to see if they could find Nithercott, but he was nowhere to be seen. One of the boys arrived with a parcel of long grass from the front lawn under his arm and deposited it on an ever growing pile near the outdoor kitchen. Higgins motioned for the boy to come over and held on to the lad’s shirt collar as he spoke to him.

When the old fellow was done, the boy turned to Martin, knuckled his brow in way of a naval salute, and translated.

“Mr. Higgins’ compliments sir, and he thanks you for the beer…” Higgins corrected the youth by way of a nudge, “...for the fine beer sir, he also wishes to know if you would be agreeable to the men coming into the village a few at a time to take some of their meals at your establishment?”

“Oh!” replied Martin, “Oh yes certainly, I should be quite agreeable to that.”

“Oh thank you sir!” The lad cried spontaneously, “We shall be much obliged to you sir. We’ll be on our best manners and won’t break up the furniture or nothin’.”

Higgins shoved the lad back toward his duty, and the boy was halfway down the lawn when he called exuberantly back over his shoulder with a wave, “Thank you so very much sir!”

Over the course of the next few days, the sailors would wander into Stoke for the evening and have a meal at the Plow. It was never the entire group, usually around four or five of them, and never the same group twice, almost like small shore leave parties being allowed away from a ship. They were always well behaved, almost as if they were on duty. Martin noted that the only unpleasant one was old Higgins, but then surmised that perhaps he only seemed so due to his rough way of speech and the fact that no one outside of his group could understand him.

Purvis Lodge part III

Part III

The arrival of the sailors at nearby Purvis Lodge had been all anyone in the village near the great house at Stoke had wanted to talk about, and it made Mr. Martin quite the celebrity with the surrounding shopkeepers.

From where had they come? Upon what ship had they served? Who was their Captain?

Martin had very few answers for them, but every conversation was rife with speculation. He told them the little bit that he knew, but it was shockingly little for the gossip-mongers to work with. 

After the allotted three days, Martin was once again at the reins of the horse cart and on his way to the lodge to deliver his two barrels of beer. Even from a great way off, he could hear the familiar sound of hammers and mallets striking wood. Upon arrival, he saw that the sailors had put together a mill where they were fashioning timbers and planks out of the trunks of English Oak trees they had felled on the property. The men were covered in wood shavings and the wood dust from the saws, and the shavings were so thick upon the ground that it looked as though it had snowed! The branches too small to mill were cut into firewood by the boys and stacked in great piles along the side of the barn out back.

Mr. Higgins’ outdoor kitchen had grown into a sizable operation. He stood in a pile of feathers as he picked a chicken clean, he laid it on a rough hewn table with a number of other birds and wiped his hands upon his dirty apron. Higgins tipped his hat to Martin and then whistled and gestured to some nearby sailors to get their attention. Mr. Nithercott, glistening with sweat from hewing logs was among the group that heaved the barrels down. When he was done, Higgins motioned to him and spoke in his unintelligible manner. Nithercott turned to Martin to translate.

“Mr. Higgins desires to purchase two more barrels and wonders if they might be delivered in two days time?”

“Oh heavens, I’m afraid I’m all out of the table beer sir!” Martin replied, “It would seem you have nearly drunk me dry, ha ha!”

Higgins and Nithercott looked at each other with near panic in their faces. Martin caught the glance and in an effort to assuage their fears added, “I do have three barrels of small beer left that I would happily sell you at 10 shillings a piece.”

Higgins nodded his agreement and looked relieved that they wouldn’t have to resort to water alone.

“I have a few more barrels brewing back home,” Mr. Martin added in way of anticipation, “and it should be ready by the week’s end.”

“Are they spoken for? Because if they ain’t, we should be much obliged to you sir if you would sell them to us.” Nithercott said as he pulled out his little purse again to offer up advance payment.

Purvis Lodge part II

Part II

The next day, Martin carried the two barrels up to the old place, he hadn’t been there for years, but already he could tell that there had been a good deal of stonework repaired and a new roof put upon it. The old Lodge was beginning to look habitable again and the sailors were removing the carpets in teams of two and airing them in the sunshine as he pulled up.

An older sailor, who was busy about a cookfire, took a pot full of coffee off the flame and set it aside. Martin caught a better look at the fellow and noticed that the right side of the man’s face looked as though he had suffered a great blow, it was scarred and crushed in a similar manner of an eggshell. His eye was covered with a patch, and all the teeth on the right side of his mouth were missing. Martin approached him in regard to the barrels of beer, but when the sailor spoke, he was not able to understand him. His voice was gruff and he seemed barely able to form the words in his mouth.

“That’s Mr. Higgins,” Nithercott approached the two after having deposited his carpet upon the lawn, “He’s hard to understand on account he ain’t got no tongue.”

Higgins gestured to a spot near the sailor’s little camp and a group of men went about fetching the barrels off Martin’s cart. It was as neat a little camp as he had ever seen, the sailors had laid out several small canvas tents in a tight line in front of the house, and Mr. Higgins worked at a little kitchen at the end of the row that they had designed from some loose stones and boards found about the place.

Higgins exchanged incoherent words with Nithercott, who seemed to have no trouble understanding, “Mr. Higgins would like to know if you would be agreeable to deliver two more of them barrels in three days’ time? We get awful thirsty sir.”

Martin agreed that he could do just that, and with the prompting of Higgins, Nithercott paid for the next delivery in advance. Higgins brought Mr. Martin coffee in a delicate cup and saucer which he drank with gratitude as the men began to remove furniture from the house and arrange it in the tall grass.

The sailors sent the boys down the drive with axes, and they were clearing away unsightly brush by the road as Martin drove his horse cart back toward the village.

Purvis Lodge part I

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it -- or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."

Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 50

Part I

After a number of years, Purvis Lodge found itself once again with a tenant. 

The place had been vacant ever since the previous owner’s passing at a very advanced age, and with no children unto whom to leave the old pile, it fell into a sad state of disrepair. Initially, there had been a good deal of interest in the estate, but all the potential buyers seemed frightened off by the decrepit state of the house and furnishings along with the dreadful attics. The oldest part of the house had been built in the 15th century, and the most recent additions and improvements were done in the earliest part of the last century.

The estate itself was lush and green, very happily situated between Haye Park and Stoke, and with no one to hunt the grounds, the overgrown shrubbery teemed with game of every sort.

The first signs of activity at Purvis Lodge came in the way of a cart of workmen ambling down the road past Haye Park. The driver stopped and bid the Gamekeeper there good morning and asked if this was in fact the road that lead to the Lodge. When the gamekeeper confirmed that it was said road, the driver turned to one of his workmen and said, “And see, didn’t I tell you it was?” 

That afternoon, the Gamekeeper informed Mr. Goulding, the Master of Haye-Park, of the encounter, which was passed to Mrs. Goulding over supper that night. The next afternoon, word of the encounter had found its way to all the nearby neighbors of quality.

A fortnight later, a large wagon full of shingles along with a team of roofers was espied passing through the village of Stoke headed toward the old Lodge. This elicited a great deal of comment among the shop owners. Had the old place been purchased? Did anyone know who the new owner might be?

But the sight that excited the most speculation was about a week later when two dozen sailors passed through Stoke on foot. They were a mixed lot of well-dressed men and boys, each one carried a large ditty bag and many carried work boxes full of tools. They all stopped at the local tavern, a tidy little place known as ‘the Plow’, to have a meal at midday. They packed the place full, and Mr. Martin, the owner of the establishment, had to bring in several chairs from his own rooms in the back to accommodate so many men. 

Mr. Martin was heard to report some time later that he was struck by the prodigious good manners of the men and that they hardly uttered a single oath the entire time they were there. When they were finished, Mr. Martin noted that so many sailors seemed terribly far from the sea and asked them in the most congenial manner where they might be headed.

One of the sailors, who was a very well dressed fellow with a long queue wrapped in a red ribbon, introduced himself as Mr. Nithercott and confirmed Martin’s suspicions when he replied, “Purvis Lodge”.

Nithercott pulled out a small purse and inquired if he might be able to purchase two barrels of table beer, as advertised on Mr. Martin’s sign for 15 shillings a piece, to be delivered to the Lodge at his earliest convenience.