Advent Calendar Day 6: St. Nicholas Day at Pemberley

PART I of a Three Part Story, to appear on Successive Sundays in Advent. This first episode tells of a Rich Jane Austen Christmas, and is set at Pemberley.  The second treat, on Sunday, December 13, is about a Poor Jane Austen Christmas, spent with the cold-hearted Miss Bingley and her sister Mrs. Hurst. On the final Sunday, December 20th, we will visit Newcastle for a Bohemian Jane Austen Christmas, among the Wickhams and their raffish friends.  Happy Austen Variations Advent Calendar Days to all who love Jane Austen!

On the sixth of December, St. Nicholas Day, when Christmas celebrations may be said to properly commence, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were the first of the party to arrive at Pemberley. Their three days on the road, in two carriages filled to capacity with themselves, their several little children, and nursery-maids, constituted a serious undertaking; though the Darcys had made it more comfortable for them by sending carriages of their own to transport them past the halfway-point.

All was, as they knew it would be, warmth and welcome at Pemberley; the luxury of the rooms prepared for them, with every attention to their comfort after such a journey, was all they could wish. The children were swiftly stowed in the nursery where a toasty fire and tea were laid for them; and their parents were able to tidy and repair the disarray from being just off such a journey, in their own beautiful rooms.

“It is one thing,” observed Mr. Gardiner, “to be shown over great houses such as these, and another to sleep in them, as one of the family.”

“Is it not?  Only look at that silk-flocked wall-paper, with the vine design – ravishing! and oh, the green velvet fittings on the bed! Yet for all this opulence, there is taste, and every modern comfort.”

“Imagine, we are in little Lizzy’s house,” said her husband, and they shook their heads and laughed.

The Gardiners soon found themselves considerably refreshed, and were seated in the dining-room by five o’clock, for an abundant and delicious dinner that was nevertheless unpretending, intended to please rather than to impress.  As they were the earliest of arrivals, it was diner pour quatre with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and all were happy to have it so.

Even a relatively small scaled dinner at Pemberley, however, was superior to what might have been a high company dinner at either Longbourn or in Gracechurch-street. There was fresh fish from Mr. Darcy’s fish ponds, to be sure,  served in a French stew of flounder, whitings and gudgeon; then  wild game from the estate, roast pheasants and hare pie, with the accompaniment of an layered French potato dish; and the final remove comprised jellies and cakes, mince-pies and a delicate orange pudding.  Everything was the best of its kind, and cooked to perfection, but no display of ostentation or over-officious attentions from any quarter, marred the intimacy and happiness of the meeting.

Mrs. Gardiner was very quick to assess the joy of the younger couple, which shone from their faces with each smile, each sentence: as she had shrewdly hoped, Darcy’s manners had already been softened in a mere month of marriage with his lively Elizabeth, and Lizzy herself had a new look of rapture in her expression that Mrs. Gardiner – indeed, that no one, had ever seen before.

“You are not, dear aunt, to expect much from my influence on Pemberley these Christmas holidays,” Elizabeth began. “You know I have been in residence here only these few short weeks; and were they years, I could not improve upon the place.”

“You have made immense improvements already, Elizabeth,” Darcy interposed. “It was a cold barracks before, but you have animated not only myself, but the whole house entire. When I look around, I can hardly recognize Pemberley, it is so altered for the better.”

Elizabeth laughed. “A barracks, indeed! One of the most beautiful houses in England, and it is not changed one jot or tittle, except in the happiness of the inhabitants.”

“That is what I meant, of course,” he said seriously, and they looked into each other’s eyes over their mulled wine and pheasant until Mrs. Gardiner cleared her throat gently to draw back their attention.

“Happy hearts will animate a home, large or small, and I am very glad to find that this transformation has already taken place. I expected no less,” she said with a smile.

“That is the secret, aunt, you judge truly; but I assure you that the happiness of your being here for the entire Christmas season forms no small part of our joy.”

“I will have to be back in the city soon after Twelfth Night,” Mr. Gardiner agreed, “but such a visit, with our large family, can hardly be accomplished in less time. Have you great plans for your festivities?”

“I did not wish to burden Elizabeth with a plunge into preparations in her first weeks here,” Mr. Darcy explained. “Happily, Christmas at Pemberley has its regular arrangements, and all is in train.”

“The generosity of Pemberley, and its charity at Christmastide, has long been justly famed, I know,” said Mrs. Gardiner.

“I confess I would rather make Christmas about charity than games and balls. Perhaps this derives from my having always been such an unsocial fellow myself,” admitted Mr. Darcy. “However, my father long established the tradition of regular gifts of game and wine for the people round, and it has been most natural for me to do as he did.  And I have Mrs. Reynolds and staff who remember the old days. But this year is different,” he looked at his new wife with kindling eyes, “and we shall have gayeties, too.”

“Will you have masques and balls, and a Twelfth Night play?” asked Mrs. Gardiner, raising her eyebrows.

Twelfth Night

“That will be as Elizabeth chooses, but the taciturn nature of the master of the house shall no longer prevent the social pleasures  that perhaps always ought to have belonged to Pemberley.”

Elizabeth blushed. “You will have my aunt and uncle thinking me a mistress of the revels,” she protested, “with a daring cap. No; I think a new broom should not sweep too much, and I would not interfere with any one of Mr. Darcy’s benevolent productions. The best entertainment is in the gathering of good company.”

“I agree with you,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “but pardon me – I have a curiosity. Who are you to gather about you this Christmas time? The party may not be too congenial if certain names appear, I fear.”

“From uncongeniality we all know it is a small step to name Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth with a sigh.

“Well – if you choose to be explicit, yes.”

“There is no reason not to be so, for I can assure you that she will not be here. She did not confine her rage at our marriage, and her explosive expressions could be heard from Kent to Derbyshire.”

“I would not invite her to Pemberley on any account,” said Mr. Darcy, tight lipped.

“She may soften in time, but our first Christmas is rather too early to look for such a change,” Elizabeth said dryly.

“We do have neighbors we believe you will like, and hope to form some fine shooting parties, and then there is the famous fox hunt on Boxing Day,” Mr. Darcy said to Mr. Gardiner, who promptly expressed an enthusiastic interest, and they turned to discussing these activities.

Left to themselves, Mrs. Gardiner was able to observe confidentially to Elizabeth, “I was rather surprised that your mother did not decide to make the journey.”

“No; her nerves cannot bear a long journey, you know, and her darling plan was to spend Christmas with Jane and Bingley at Netherfield, but they are coming to us, so my parents remain at Longbourn. My father has hinted that he may visit us soon, however. I believe the inducement is Mr. Darcy’s library, though I am his favorite daughter.”

“But for the Christmas celebrations – will you attempt a ball, though you say you are such a new broom?”

“Oh, yes, for the tenants and surrounding friends in the country; and I do believe we will have theatricals on Twelfth Night – perhaps a bit of Sheridan.”

“Ah, you will shine at that, my Lizzy!”

“I must not shock the shades of Pemberley,” she said, laughing. “Another thing, aunt, I am planning to make some presents. Not just trifles for the children, but there are a few others to whom I would wish to  give benefits.”

“Who can you mean?”

“Well, for one – “ Elizabeth glanced at her husband, who was still deep in the discussion of shooting with her uncle. “I think of poor Lydia and what a Christmas hers will be at Newcastle. I am not deceived by her protestations of ecstasy in her marriage to Wickham, are you?”

“No, certainly not,” said Mrs. Gardiner with emphasis. “But what shall you give her? From what I can conjecture, baby-linen may soon be needed.”

“Undoubtedly. I shall send her a present of clothing, and something from my own private purse.”

“You had better not encourage dependance,” Mrs. Gardiner cautioned.

“No.  Mr. Darcy has been generosity itself, as we both know, and they are not to be encouraged to think of him as their support. But I should like to share a little of my good fortune with my poor sister.”

“You are right, of course,” said Mrs. Gardiner thoughtfully.

“And another person I am thinking of is Miss Bingley.”

“Miss Bingley! Why on earth? She is no relation of yours. And think how wickedly duplicitous she was in trying to prevent Jane’s marriage to her brother, and how mortified by your own marriage. I should think she would be the last person to whom you would wish to show kindness.”

“That is why. You don’t want a wasp on the loose in your circle; best to give them a dollop of honey.”

Mrs. Gardiner was amused. “So what shall you give her?”

“Oh, some rich trifle for her and her sister. Mrs. Hurst, you know, is on a very short purse with that supine husband of hers, and likes luxuries. I can spare a thing or two from Pemberley. There are silks and gewgaws enough in the store-rooms to furnish a mandarin’s court.”

“You are generosity itself, Elizabeth, you and Mr. Darcy! What a pair you will make!”

“Mr. Darcy has already taught me generosity as well as love, you see, and we mean to make a great show of both for the multitude to admire,” said Elizabeth with a smile.

At that, her uncle turned to her. “If you are talking of generosity, Lizzy, you remind me that St. Nicholas is the patron of that virtue, and this is his festival day. I ought to propose a toast.”

“St. Nicholas! Why, yes.  He is a very proper saint for Pemberley.”

“Does any one know exactly who he was?” inquired Mrs. Gardiner.

“The old saint may have been a myth,” said Darcy. “An ancient one, originating in Greece, I believe, back in the third or fourth century. One of the legends told of him is that he rescued three impoverished girls from a life in penury, by giving them each a golden dowry.”

“I am sure my sisters and I should have dearly wished for both his presence, and his presents, at one time,” said Elizabeth archly. “And yet, here in this house, and with you, who can say that St. Nicholas is not laughing in delight upon the roof of Pemberley, at this very moment?”

“To St. Nicholas, then,” said Mr. Gardiner, raising his glass. “And to your married happiness, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.”

The glasses clinked, and Elizabeth’s dark eyes glistened even more brightly than ever with something like teardrops.  She shook her head slightly, and turned to her aunt.

“Will you have a little more of the mulled wine, my dear aunt?”

“With the greatest of pleasure,” said Mrs. Gardiner, enthusiastically. “I never tasted any so delicious in my life.”

“It is an old Pemberley recipe,” Mr. Darcy told her, gratified.

Mulled wine

(Not as old, and with none of the exquisite secret ingredients of the Pemberley mulled wine, or negus, here is a recipe from Mrs. Beeton’s Household Book of 1861, just to give an idea of what it was like.)

To Make Negus To every pint of port wine, allow 1 quart of boiling water, 1/4 lb. of sugar, 1 lemon, grated nutmeg to taste. As this beverage is more usually drunk at children’s parties than at any other, the wine need not be very old or expensive for the purpose, a new fruity wine answering very well for it. Put the wine into a jug, rub some lumps of sugar (equal to 1/4 lb.) on the lemon-rind until all the yellow part of the skin is absorbed, then squeeze the juice, and strain it. Add the sugar and lemon-juice to the port wine, with the grated nutmeg; pour over it the boiling water, cover the jug, and, when the beverage has cooled a little, it will be fit for use. Negus may also be made of sherry, or any other sweet white wine, but is more usually made of port than of any other beverage. Sufficient: Allow 1 pint of wine, with the other ingredients in proportion, for a party of 9 or 10 children. -Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, 1861