Julian Fellows
Belgravia
To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly have been possible
Copyright © The Orion Publishing Group Limited 2016
JULIAN FELLOWES'S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license
BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited
The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia
Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes's Belgravia
All rights reserved
First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London
Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova
Cover design by Victoria Manatskova
Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya
© E. Kislenkova, translation, 2017
© Russian edition, design. OOO Publishing Group Azbuka-Atticus, 2017 AZBUKA® Publishing House
1. From ball to battle
The past, as we have been repeatedly told, is a foreign country, where everything is different. Perhaps this is indeed the case. Why, before, everything really was completely different, if we talk about morality and traditions, about the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as about a million other components of everyday life. But along with that, there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, unselfishness and, above all, love in the old days played no less a role than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way ...
You would never think that the city was on the brink of war, and even less like the capital of a country less than three months ago torn from one kingdom and annexed to another. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in the atmosphere of the holiday. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along the wide avenues, delivering noble ladies with their daughters on urgent secular affairs. Everyone seemed to be unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.
None of this interested Sophie Trenchard. She pushed through the crowd with a determination that did not match her age: Sophia was only eighteen years old. Like any well-bred young lady, especially in a foreign country, she was accompanied by the maid Jane Croft, who was only four years older than her mistress. Although now Sofia acted as a protector, protecting her companion from sensitive collisions with pedestrians, who, it seemed, could not be stopped. She was pretty, and even very, in the classic English manner - blue-eyed blonde, but it was clear from the sharp outlines of her mouth that this girl would not ask her mother's permission before rushing into an adventure.
“Hurry up, otherwise he will go to dinner, and it will turn out that we went so far in vain!”
Sophia was in that time of life through which almost everyone goes: when childhood is already behind, and apparent maturity, not burdened by life experience, inspires a young man or girl with confidence that they can do everything, and this continues until true adulthood is convincing. does not prove that this is far from the case.
“Miss, I can’t go faster,” Jane grumbled, and as if to prove her words, the hussar in a hurry pushed the girl away and did not even bother to apologize. - Just like on the battlefield!
Unlike her mistress, Jane was not a beauty, but she had a pleasant face, vigorous and ruddy, though it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.
She, too, was not a timid ten, and the young mistress liked it.
- I thought you were stronger!
Sofia almost reached the goal. From the wide street they turned into a yard where there once seemed to be a cattle market, but now the army requisitioned it for food and ammunition depots. Crates and bales were unloaded from large wagons, which were then distributed to the sheds around; the officers of all the regiments moved in an endless stream, walking in groups, talking to each other, sometimes getting into skirmishes. The appearance of a beautiful young girl and her maid could not fail to attract attention, and for a moment all conversations subsided, almost stopped.
Julian Fellows
Belgravia
To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly have been possible
Copyright © The Orion Publishing Group Limited 2016
JULIAN FELLOWES'S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license
BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited
The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia
Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes's Belgravia
All rights reserved
First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London
Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova
Cover design by Victoria Manatskova
Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya
© E. Kislenkova, translation, 2017
© Russian edition, design. OOO Publishing Group Azbuka-Atticus, 2017 AZBUKA ® Publishing House
1. From ball to battle
The past, as we have been repeatedly told, is a foreign country, where everything is different. Perhaps this is indeed the case. Why, before, everything really was completely different, if we talk about morality and traditions, about the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as about a million other components of everyday life. But along with that, there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, unselfishness and, above all, love in the old days played no less a role than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way ...
You would never have thought that the city was on the brink of war, and even less like the capital of a country that was torn from one kingdom and annexed to another less than three months ago. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in the atmosphere of the holiday. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along the wide avenues, delivering noble ladies with their daughters on urgent secular affairs. Everyone seemed to be unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.
None of this interested Sophie Trenchard. She pushed through the crowd with a determination that did not match her age: Sophia was only eighteen years old. Like any well-bred young lady, especially in a foreign country, she was accompanied by the maid Jane Croft, who was only four years older than her mistress. Although now Sofia acted as a protector, protecting her companion from sensitive collisions with pedestrians, who, it seemed, could not be stopped. She was pretty, and even very, in the classic English manner - blue-eyed blonde, but it was clear from the sharp outlines of her mouth that this girl would not ask her mother's permission before rushing into an adventure.
“Hurry up, otherwise he will go to dinner, and it will turn out that we went so far in vain!”
Sophia was in that time of life through which almost everyone goes: when childhood is already behind, and apparent maturity, not burdened by life experience, inspires a young man or girl with confidence that they can do everything, and this continues until true adulthood is convincing. does not prove that this is far from the case.
“Miss, I can’t go faster,” Jane grumbled, and as if to prove her words, the hussar in a hurry pushed the girl away and did not even bother to apologize. - Just like on the battlefield!
Unlike her mistress, Jane was not a beauty, but she had a pleasant face, vigorous and ruddy, though it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.
She, too, was not a timid ten, and the young mistress liked it.
- I thought you were stronger!
Sofia almost reached the goal. From the wide street they turned into a yard where there once seemed to be a cattle market, but now the army requisitioned it for food and ammunition depots. Crates and bales were unloaded from large wagons, which were then distributed to the sheds around; the officers of all the regiments moved in an endless stream, walking in groups, talking to each other, sometimes getting into skirmishes. The appearance of a beautiful young girl and her maid could not fail to attract attention, and for a moment all conversations subsided, almost stopped.
"Please don't worry," Sophia said, looking calmly at the officers. “I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.
To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly have been possible
Copyright © The Orion Publishing Group Limited 2016
JULIAN FELLOWES'S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license
BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited
The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia
Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes's Belgravia
All rights reserved
First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London
Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova
Cover design by Victoria Manatskova
Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya
© E. Kislenkova, translation, 2017
© Russian edition, design. OOO Publishing Group Azbuka-Atticus, 2017 AZBUKA ® Publishing House
1. From ball to battle
The past, as we have been repeatedly told, is a foreign country, where everything is different. Perhaps this is indeed the case. Why, before, everything really was completely different, if we talk about morality and traditions, about the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as about a million other components of everyday life. But along with that, there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, unselfishness and, above all, love in the old days played no less a role than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way ...
You would never have thought that the city was on the brink of war, and even less like the capital of a country that was torn from one kingdom and annexed to another less than three months ago. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in the atmosphere of the holiday. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along the wide avenues, delivering noble ladies with their daughters on urgent secular affairs. Everyone seemed to be unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.
None of this interested Sophie Trenchard. She pushed through the crowd with a determination that did not match her age: Sophia was only eighteen years old. Like any well-bred young lady, especially in a foreign country, she was accompanied by the maid Jane Croft, who was only four years older than her mistress. Although now Sofia acted as a protector, protecting her companion from sensitive collisions with pedestrians, who, it seemed, could not be stopped. She was pretty, and even very, in the classic English manner - blue-eyed blonde, but it was clear from the sharp outlines of her mouth that this girl would not ask her mother's permission before rushing into an adventure.
“Hurry up, otherwise he will go to dinner, and it will turn out that we went so far in vain!”
Sophia was in that time of life through which almost everyone goes: when childhood is already behind, and apparent maturity, not burdened by life experience, inspires a young man or girl with confidence that they can do everything, and this continues until true adulthood is convincing. does not prove that this is far from the case.
“Miss, I can’t go faster,” Jane grumbled, and as if to prove her words, the hussar in a hurry pushed the girl away and did not even bother to apologize. - Just like on the battlefield!
Unlike her mistress, Jane was not a beauty, but she had a pleasant face, vigorous and ruddy, though it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.
She, too, was not a timid ten, and the young mistress liked it.
- I thought you were stronger!
Sofia almost reached the goal. From the wide street they turned into a yard where there once seemed to be a cattle market, but now the army requisitioned it for food and ammunition depots. Crates and bales were unloaded from large wagons, which were then distributed to the sheds around; the officers of all the regiments moved in an endless stream, walking in groups, talking to each other, sometimes getting into skirmishes. The appearance of a beautiful young girl and her maid could not fail to attract attention, and for a moment all conversations subsided, almost stopped.
"Please don't worry," Sophia said, looking calmly at the officers. “I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.
“Do you know how to get to him, Miss Trenchard?” A young man stepped forward.
- I know. Thank you.
Sophia made her way to the larger entrance to the main building and, followed by a trembling Jane, climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were a few more officers waiting to be seen here, but Sophia wasn't in the mood for etiquette right now. The girl pushed the door hard.
- Wait here! she told the chambermaid.
Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure catching the curious glances of the men.
The room Sofia entered was bright and airy. In the center of it was a solid writing desk of polished mahogany, and all the rest of the furniture was chosen in the same style, but the furnishings were more suitable for commercial than social affairs. It was a place of work, not play. In the corner, a burly man in his early forties was instructing an officer in a brilliant uniform.
"What the hell are they interrupting me for?" He turned sharply, but at the sight of his daughter his mood changed, and a tender smile lit up his angry red face. - Well? he asked, but Sophia looked expressively at the officer. The father nodded. “Captain Cooper, I beg your pardon.
“It’s okay, Trenchard…
— Trenchard?
- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by the evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.
“Captain, I promise to do my best.
The officer was clearly annoyed, but he had to agree to at least this, since he would not have achieved anything better anyway. Nodding, Cooper left, and the father was left alone with his daughter.
- Did you get it? he asked with visible excitement.
From the outside, it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.
As slowly as possible, stretching the pause to impossibility, Sophia opened her purse and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.
- As many as three! she said, enjoying her triumph. “One for you, one for mom, and one for me.
Trenchard nearly snatched the cards from her hand. He could not have been more impatient even if he had lived for a month without food and water. On the invitations, in simple and elegant letters, was embossed:
Trenchard stared at the invitation in amazement.
“I suppose Lord Bellasis will be at this dinner?”
“Of course, the Duchess is his own aunt.
- Yes of course.
By the way, there will be no lunch. I mean a real, big dinner. Just family and a few people who are visiting the Richmonds.
“They always say there won’t be dinner, but usually they do anyway.
Didn't expect to be invited?
James Trenchard dreamed of getting there, but did not count on such luck.
“God, how happy I am!”
“Edmund says that dinner will be served after midnight.
“Don’t call him Edmund anywhere else, only in front of me!” Father remarked sternly. But his fleeting annoyance was again replaced by glee, immediately dispelled by the mere thought of the upcoming event. - Go back to your mother. She needs to get ready, every minute is precious.
Too young and unreasonably self-confident to realize the enormity of her success, Sofia, being, moreover, more pragmatic in such matters than her father, who reveres the powers that be, objected:
It's too late to order a dress.
“But it’s enough time to bring yourself into proper shape.
I'm afraid my mother won't want to go to the ball.
- She'll go where she goes.
Sophia started towards the door when she remembered something else.
“When are we going to tell mom everything?” she asked, glaring at her father.
The question took Trenchard by surprise, and he began fiddling with the gold watch chain. There was an awkward silence. It seemed that everything was exactly the same as a second ago, but the atmosphere in the room had changed in some subtle way. Any outside observer would have easily noticed that the subject of discussion suddenly became much more serious than the choice of clothes for the upcoming ball at the duchess.
“Not yet,” the father replied decisively. “The first thing you need to do is prepare well. We must take an example from him. Now go. And call that stupid idiot back.
The daughter obeyed and slipped out of the room, but even after her departure, James Trenchard remained as uneasy as ever. A scream came from the street. He went to the window, looked down and saw that some officer was arguing with the merchant.
Then the door opened and Captain Cooper entered. Trenchard nodded to him. Whatever happens, things come first.
Sofia was right. Mother did not want to go to the ball.
– We were invited only because someone else refused at the last moment!
- Do you really care?
"How stupid is all this!" Mrs. Trenchard shook her head. “We won’t see a single familiar face there!”
- Dad will surely meet someone he knows.
Anna Trenchard was sometimes annoyed by her children. Despite the condescending tone in which the daughter and son spoke to their mother, they did not know life at all. The father, who doted on his offspring, spoiled them so much that they eventually began to take their happy fate for granted and hardly thought about it. Neither knew anything of the long journey their parents had traveled to reach their present position, although Anna herself remembered every step she took on that rocky road.
- He will meet acquaintances there - several officers who come to him in the service and give him orders. And they will be unspeakably surprised to learn that in the same ballroom with them there is a man supplying their soldiers with food.
“I hope you won’t talk to Lord Bellasis like that?”
Mrs. Trenchard's face softened a little.
“My dear,” she said, and took her daughter by the hand. - Beware of building castles in the air.
Sophia withdrew her fingers.
“Of course you don’t believe in his noble intentions!”
“On the contrary, I am sure that Lord Bellasis is a worthy man. And, no doubt, very enjoyable.
- You see now!
“But he is the eldest son of an earl, my child, with all the duties that such a position imposes on him. He cannot choose his wife, following only the dictates of his heart. I'm not angry. Both of you are young and beautiful, flirting a little - that's okay: neither of you will be harmed by this. Bye. - Anna underlined the last word, so it became clear what she was getting at. – Sophia, but all this must end before the conversations discrediting you start, otherwise you will suffer, not he.
“Does it mean anything to you that Lord Bellasis got us invitations to his aunt’s ball?”
- It only means that you are a nice girl and he wants to please you. In London, Lord Bellasis would not be able to arrange such a thing, but in Brussels everything is marked by war, so that the usual rules are no longer valid.
The last words outraged Sofia in earnest.
“Are you saying that we are not proper company for the friends of the Duchess under the usual rules?”
Mrs. Trenchard was in her own way as strong of character as her daughter.
“That's what I want to say, and you know it's true.
“Dad wouldn’t agree with you.
“He has been on the road to success for a long time, has come a long way than many can imagine, and does not notice the obstacles that may prevent him from going further. Be satisfied with what we have. Your father has achieved a lot. This is quite something to be proud of.
The door opened, and Mrs. Trenchard's maid came in, dressed in evening dress.
Ma'am, am I too early?
“No, no, Ellis, come in. We're done talking, aren't we, Sophia?
“If you think so, Mommy. Sophia left the room, but judging by her upturned chin, she left undefeated.
It was clear from Ellis' expressive silence that she was eager to find out what had caused the quarrel, but Anna waited a few minutes while the maid spun around her, unbuttoning the buttons and removing the day dress from the mistress's shoulders, and only then said:
“We were invited on the fifteenth to a ball at the Duchess of Richmond's.
- Yes you!
Ordinarily, Mary Ellis was excellent at keeping her feelings to herself, but this shocking news unsettled her. However, the maid quickly pulled herself together:
“I mean, we have to decide about the dress, ma'am. If so, I will need time to prepare it.
“What if we wear blue silk?” I haven't worn much this season. Here's the thing, look for some black lace on the neckline and sleeves to spice it up a bit.
Anna Trenchard was a woman of practicality, but not without vanity. A slender figure, a chiseled profile, thick brown hair - she could still be considered a beauty. However, she didn't let the thought go to her head.
Ellis sat down, unrolling her straw-colored taffeta evening gown for her mistress to step into.
“What about jewelry, ma'am?”
“I haven't thought about it yet. I'll probably wear what I have.
Anna turned her back to let the maid fasten the gold buttons. Perhaps she treated Sophia unnecessarily harshly, but Anna did not regret it. The daughter was in the clouds, like her father, and careless dreams lead to trouble. Anna smiled involuntarily. She said that James had come a long way, but sometimes it seemed to her that even Sophia did not quite understand how long he had been.
“I suppose it was Lord Bellasis who gave you the invitations to the ball?” - Ellis, who sat down at the feet of the lady to help her change shoes, looked at her from below.
I knew at once that Mrs. Trenchard did not like the question. Why would a maid suddenly be interested in how exactly they were included in the list of the chosen ones invited to the ball, and why were they invited somewhere at all? Anna chose to ignore the question. But he led her to reflect on the strangeness of their life in Brussels and how everything had changed for them since her husband had caught the eye of the heroic Duke of Wellington. True, we must pay tribute to James Trenchard: no matter the circumstances - no matter how fierce the battle was, no matter how deserted the area turned out to be - he always knew how, as if by magic, to get provisions from somewhere. No wonder the duke called him the Wizard. It seems that James actually was, or at least tried to appear to be. But success only inflated his exorbitant ambitions. Anna's husband dreamed of climbing to the unattainable heights of society, and his progress up the social ladder only suffered from this. James Trenchard, the son of a simple merchant, whom Anna's father had once categorically forbade her to marry, considered it quite natural that the duchess would accept them. Anna would have called his ambitions ridiculous, if not for one circumstance: they have already inexplicably come true more than once.
Mrs. Trenchard was much more educated than her husband, as befits the daughter of a schoolmaster. When they first met, such a game was simply dizzyingly profitable for him, but now Anna understood perfectly well that during this time James had gone far ahead. She even began to wonder how much longer she could keep up with his fantastic ascent. Maybe, when the children become adults, she should retire to the village, settle in a simple rural house and leave her husband to make his way to the heights on his own?
In the silence of the hostess, Ellis intuitively felt that she had asked inappropriately. She wanted to say some compliment to make amends, but then she decided to just sit quietly and let the storm subside by itself.
The door opened and James stepped into the room.
Sophia has already told you? He arranged everything!
Anna glanced at the maid.
Thanks, Ellis. Please come back to me after a while.
The maid left. James couldn't help but smile.
“You reprimand me for making plans that do not suit my humble position, and you yourself send the maid away with an air as if you yourself were a duchess.
"I hope you're joking," Anna bristled.
- So what? What do you have against the Duchess of Richmond?
“Absolutely nothing, for the simple reason that I absolutely do not know her, just like you. - Anna wanted to bring a touch of reality to this absurdity. “That's why we can't afford to force ourselves on a poor woman and take seats in a crowded ballroom that should rightfully be given to her friends.
But James was too excited to descend from heaven to earth so easily.
"You're not serious, are you?"
“Seriously, but you won’t even listen!”
She turned out to be right. There was no hope of cooling her husband's ardor.
- Annie, yes, such a chance falls once in a lifetime! Just imagine: there will be a duke! Even two dukes, for that matter. My commander and the husband of our mistress.
- That's it.
“And the Prince of Orange himself!” He paused, overwhelmed with delight. - James Trenchard, who started his career behind a stall in Covent Garden Market, is getting ready to dance with a real princess!
Don't you dare ask anyone to dance! You will only embarrass us both.
- All right, we'll see.
- I am not kidding. Enough already that you goad Sophia.
James frowned.
“You doubt in vain, the boy has quite serious intentions. I'm sure.
- What nonsense! Anna shook her head in annoyance. “Whatever his intentions, he is not a match for our Sophia. As for the choice of a wife, then Lord Bellasis is not his own master, so this story cannot end with anything good.
There was a rumble from the street, and Anna looked out onto the balcony in order to find out what was happening there. Her bedroom windows overlooked a wide and busy avenue. Below, a few soldiers in scarlet uniforms were marching past the house, and the sun's rays glittered on gold-embroidered galloons.
“How strange,” Anna thought, “everything around is talking about an imminent battle, and we are discussing the upcoming ball.”
She returned to the room.
“Let's wait and see,” James said, continuing the conversation, stubbornly not wanting to part with his illusions. He had the expression of an offended four-year-old on his face.
“Keep in mind, if all this nonsense you’re telling Sophia gets her in trouble, I’ll only blame you.
- Agreed.
“And to make an unfortunate young man beg his aunt for invitations is utterly humiliating.
James lost his patience:
"You won't be able to ruin our visit!" I won't allow it!
“I don't need to do anything. Everything will be upset by itself.
This is where the conversation ended. Angry, James rushed off to change for dinner, and his wife rang the bell, again inviting Ellis to her place.
Anna was dissatisfied with herself. She did not like quarrels, but the story of the invitation to the ball depressed her. Mrs. Trenchard was quite content with life. They got rich, they were successful, they were looking for acquaintances in the business community of London, but James stubbornly sought to break everything, constantly wanting even more. Now she will be forcibly pushed into an endless suite of rooms in a house where their family is not loved and appreciated. She would have to converse with people who secretly—perhaps openly—despise them. If it were not for the exorbitant ambitions of the spouse, they would live in peace and mutual respect. Anna thought something like this, at the same time knowing perfectly well that she could not stop her husband. No one in the world can stop James. Such is the nature of this man.
In the many years that have passed since the ball at the Duchess of Richmond, so much has been written about this event that it gradually acquired the luxury and solemnity inherent in the coronation ceremony of a medieval queen. Stories about this evening are found in various works of art, it served as a plot for many paintings, and each new image of it certainly became more pompous than the previous one. So, on the canvas of Henry O'Neill in 1868, this ball takes place in a spacious palace hall, outlined by a row of huge marble columns; the room is filled to overflowing with hundreds of guests who literally sob with grief and horror and look more colorful than the corps de ballet at the Drury Lane Theater. As is often the case with key moments in history, the reality was quite different.
The Richmonds had come to Brussels partly to save money, to cut down on day-to-day expenses after spending several years abroad, and partly to show solidarity with the Duke of Wellington, their longtime friend who had set up his headquarters there. Richmond himself, a former soldier, was given the task of directing the defense of Brussels if the worst happened and the enemy attacked the city. The Duke agreed. He understood that this work was mostly rear, but it also had to be done by someone, and Richmond was pleased to realize that he was part of the military machine, and not an idle observer. There were plenty of the latter in the city anyway.
There were few palaces in Brussels at that time, and most of them were already occupied, so the Richmonds settled in the house that had been occupied by a fashionable coachmaker. This house was on the Rue de la Blanchissérie, which literally translates from French as Laundry Street, which is why Wellington dubbed the Richmonds' new dwelling the Bath House. The Duchess liked the joke less than her husband. The room, which we would now call the carriage maker's trading floor, was a spacious shed located to the left of the front door, and got into it through a small office, where once customers discussed with the master the upholstery of the carriage and other additional details. The Richmonds' third daughter, Lady Georgiana Lennox, refers to this part of the house as the dressing room in her memoirs. The room, where ready-made carriages used to be exhibited, was covered with wallpaper with images of roses on the tapestries, and after that the hall was considered suitable for the ball.
The Duchess of Richmond had brought her whole family with her to the Continent, and as young girls, deprived of impressions, languished the most, it was decided to arrange a party. But in early June, Napoleon, who had escaped from exile on the island of Elba that year, left Paris in search of allies. The Duchess of Richmond asked Wellington if it was appropriate for her to continue preparing for the entertainment, and he assured the friend's wife that it was quite appropriate. Moreover, the duke expressed his ardent wish that the ball should take place: this would be both a demonstration of English composure and an occasion to clearly show that even ladies are little disturbed by the thought of the approach of the French emperor and refuse to deprive themselves of entertainment. Of course, in words everything was easy ...
I hope we don't make a mistake? the duchess repeated for the twentieth time in the last hour, throwing a searching glance into the mirror.
She was quite pleased with what she saw: a stately woman, barely coming of age, dressed in light cream silks and still able to make men turn their heads after her. The diamonds were incomparable, although among friends there was talk that the originals were replaced with rhinestones for the sake of economy.
- It's too late to think. “The Duke of Richmond was somewhat amused by what was happening. The couple saw the trip to Brussels as an opportunity to escape society, but to their surprise, the society came here with them. And now the wife was throwing a party with a list of guests that would be the envy of the hostess of any London party, while the city was preparing to hear the roar of French guns. - It was a wonderful lunch. At dinner, I just can not eat anything.
"Wait, you're still hungry."
I hear the carriage has arrived. We must go down.
The duke was a good man, a kind and loving father (his children simply adored him) and had enough strength of character to marry one of the daughters of the infamous Duchess of Gordon, whose adventures for several years gave all of Scotland food for gossip. At that time, many believed that the duke could have made a more reliable choice, and perhaps if he had done so, his life would have been easier, but in any case, Richmond himself did not regret anything. His wife was an extravagant woman, no doubt, but at the same time good-natured, sweet and smart. Richmond was glad that he had chosen her at the time.
In the little parlour, or, as Georgiana puts it, in the vestibule through which the guests passed to enter the ballroom, a few early-arriving people were already waiting. Local flower girls did their best, decorating the room with huge arrangements of pale pink roses and white lilies (all the stamens were carefully removed from them so that the ladies did not get dirty with pollen), complemented by tall green leaves of various shades. Bouquets gave the carriage house a nobility. In the quivering radiance of the numerous candelabra, the room acquired a slight sheen of luxury, which it lacked in the light of day.
The Duchess's nephew, Edmund, Viscount Bellasis, was talking to the hosts' daughter Georgiana. They approached her parents together.
“Who are these people that Edmund made you invite?” Why don't we know them? the girl asked her mother.
"You'll find out after tonight," Lord Bellasis cut in.
"You don't talk much," said Georgiana.
“I hope your mother will not be angry with me,” said the duchess. She, too, was overcome with doubts, and she already regretted her own generosity.
When Edmund asked, his aunt handed him three invitations without hesitation, but now, after thinking it over, she realized that her sister would not be pleased. And then - what a coincidence! - the voice of the majordomo rang out, announcing:
“Mr. and Mrs. James Trenchard, Miss Sophia Trenchard!”
The Duke looked towards the door.
Did you invite the Wizard? - (The wife answered with a puzzled look.) - This is the nickname of Wellington's main supplier, - Richmond explained. – What is he doing here?
“Quartermaster of the Duke of Wellington?” The Duchess turned sternly to her nephew. “I invited a merchant to my ball?”
But Lord Bellasis was not easily embarrassed.
“Dear aunt, you have invited one of our heroic duke’s most devoted and intelligent assistants. Believe me, any loyal Briton would be proud to have the opportunity to host Mr. Trenchard at home.
“Edmund, you tricked me!” And I don't like being fooled.
But the young man had already left to meet new guests. The Duchess cast an angry glance at her husband.
Togo was amused by his wife's fury:
“Don't look at me so hard, dear. I have nothing to do with this. It was you who invited them. And you can't help admitting that the quartermaster's daughter is pretty.
At least it was true. Sophia looked as charming as ever today.
Before Richmond could say anything more, the Trenchards had already come up to them. Anna spoke first.
“Duchess, it was so kind of you to invite us.
“Oh, what are you, Mrs. Trenchard. I think you are very kind to my nephew.
“I am always glad to see Lord Bellasis.
Anna chose the dress well. The blue silk accentuated her slender figure, and the delicate lace Ellis had found complemented it perfectly. Diamonds, although they could not compete with other jewelry in the hall, nevertheless looked quite worthy.
The Duchess involuntarily relented.
“It's hard for young people to be away from home,” she said, almost kindly.
James was tormented by a persistent thought: should the duchess be addressed as “your grace”? But he restrained himself, not wanting to interfere. It seems that no one took his wife's words as an insult, but James still doubted. He opened his mouth...
Who do I see! Is this the Wizard? Richmond beamed quite sincerely. If he was surprised to meet this merchant in his living room, he did not show it. “Remember how we prepared some plans in case the reservists were mobilized?
“I remember perfectly well your…your proposal, I meant to say. Duke.
The last word was a separate phrase that had no connection with the rest of the conversation. And as if a pebble was suddenly thrown into a still pond: for several painful seconds, it seemed to James that the awkwardness of this clumsy statement went around him in waves. But Anna's soft smile and nod cheered him up, and Trenchard was relieved that he didn't seem to have embarrassed anyone.
Anna took matters into her own hands.
Let me introduce you to my daughter Sophia.
Sophia curtsied to the hostess, who looked her up and down as if she were buying venison for dinner (which, of course, she had never done in her life). The girl was pretty and very graceful, but the look thrown at her father again clearly reminded the duchess that there could be no question of any continuation of this story. The Duchess was afraid that her sister, having learned about this evening, would accuse her of connivance. But Edmund is surely not seriously interested in this girl? He was always a prudent boy and never gave his parents the slightest trouble.
“Miss Trenchard, will you let me take you to the ballroom?” Edmund tried to keep outward coldness, but his aunt was not so easy to fool - she knew life too well to be deceived by this feigned indifference.
The Duchess's heart simply broke when she saw how the girl took Edmund by the arm and they, whispering, walked together, as if they already belonged to each other.
– Harris! Didn't expect to see you here! Edmund called out to the pleasant young man. “Meet Major Thomas Harris.
“I need to unwind, too,” said the young officer, bowing to the hosts, and smiled at Sophia.
She laughed, they were all happy because they were here together. Sophia and Edmund moved on towards the dance hall, followed by their aunt's worried look. The Duchess involuntarily admitted to herself that they were a very beautiful couple: Sophia's blond hair and grace were in harmony with Edmund's dark curls and chiseled features, his manly mouth and cleft chin. The Duchess met her husband's gaze. Both understood that what was happening was almost beyond their control. Or maybe not "almost".
"Mr. James and Lady Frances Wedderburn-Webster," the majordomo announced, and the duke stepped forward to greet the next guests.
To my wife Emma, without whom my life would hardly have been possible
Copyright © The Orion Publishing Group Limited 2016
JULIAN FELLOWES'S is an unregistered trade mark of Julian Fellowes and is used by The Orion Publishing Group Limited under license
BELGRAVIA is a registered trade mark of The Orion Publishing Group Limited
The right of Julian Fellowes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Imogen Edwards-Jones acted as an editorial consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes’s Belgravia
Lindy Woodhead acted as a historical consultant on the creation of Julian Fellowes's Belgravia
All rights reserved
First published as Julian Fellowes's Belgravia by Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London
Translation from English by Elena Kislenkova
Cover design by Victoria Manatskova
Map made by Yulia Katashinskaya
© E. Kislenkova, translation, 2017
© Russian edition, design. OOO Publishing Group Azbuka-Atticus, 2017 AZBUKA ® Publishing House
1. From ball to battle
The past, as we have been repeatedly told, is a foreign country, where everything is different. Perhaps this is indeed the case. Why, before, everything really was completely different, if we talk about morality and traditions, about the role of women or the power of the aristocracy, as well as about a million other components of everyday life. But along with that, there are similarities. Ambition, envy, anger, greed, kindness, unselfishness and, above all, love in the old days played no less a role than today. This story is about people who lived two centuries ago, but many of the aspirations and passions that raged in their hearts were surprisingly similar to the dramas that are played out in our time in a new way ...
You would never have thought that the city was on the brink of war, and even less like the capital of a country that was torn from one kingdom and annexed to another less than three months ago. Brussels in June 1815 seemed to be immersed in the atmosphere of the holiday. The motley rows of markets rustled, open carriages rolled along the wide avenues, delivering noble ladies with their daughters on urgent secular affairs. Everyone seemed to be unaware that Emperor Napoleon was advancing and could set up camp near the city at any moment.
None of this interested Sophie Trenchard. She pushed through the crowd with a determination that did not match her age: Sophia was only eighteen years old. Like any well-bred young lady, especially in a foreign country, she was accompanied by the maid Jane Croft, who was only four years older than her mistress. Although now Sofia acted as a protector, protecting her companion from sensitive collisions with pedestrians, who, it seemed, could not be stopped. She was pretty, and even very, in the classic English manner - blue-eyed blonde, but it was clear from the sharp outlines of her mouth that this girl would not ask her mother's permission before rushing into an adventure.
“Hurry up, otherwise he will go to dinner, and it will turn out that we went so far in vain!”
Sophia was in that time of life through which almost everyone goes: when childhood is already behind, and apparent maturity, not burdened by life experience, inspires a young man or girl with confidence that they can do everything, and this continues until true adulthood is convincing. does not prove that this is far from the case.
“Miss, I can’t go faster,” Jane grumbled, and as if to prove her words, the hussar in a hurry pushed the girl away and did not even bother to apologize. - Just like on the battlefield!
Unlike her mistress, Jane was not a beauty, but she had a pleasant face, vigorous and ruddy, though it would have looked more natural on country paths than on city streets.
She, too, was not a timid ten, and the young mistress liked it.
- I thought you were stronger!
Sofia almost reached the goal. From the wide street they turned into a yard where there once seemed to be a cattle market, but now the army requisitioned it for food and ammunition depots. Crates and bales were unloaded from large wagons, which were then distributed to the sheds around; the officers of all the regiments moved in an endless stream, walking in groups, talking to each other, sometimes getting into skirmishes. The appearance of a beautiful young girl and her maid could not fail to attract attention, and for a moment all conversations subsided, almost stopped.
"Please don't worry," Sophia said, looking calmly at the officers. “I came to my father, Mr. Trenchard.
“Do you know how to get to him, Miss Trenchard?” A young man stepped forward.
- I know. Thank you.
Sophia made her way to the larger entrance to the main building and, followed by a trembling Jane, climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were a few more officers waiting to be seen here, but Sophia wasn't in the mood for etiquette right now. The girl pushed the door hard.
- Wait here! she told the chambermaid.
Jane remained in the waiting room, not without pleasure catching the curious glances of the men.
The room Sofia entered was bright and airy. In the center of it was a solid writing desk of polished mahogany, and all the rest of the furniture was chosen in the same style, but the furnishings were more suitable for commercial than social affairs. It was a place of work, not play. In the corner, a burly man in his early forties was instructing an officer in a brilliant uniform.
"What the hell are they interrupting me for?" He turned sharply, but at the sight of his daughter his mood changed, and a tender smile lit up his angry red face. - Well? he asked, but Sophia looked expressively at the officer. The father nodded. “Captain Cooper, I beg your pardon.
“It’s okay, Trenchard…
— Trenchard?
- Mr. Trenchard. But we need flour by the evening. My commander made me promise that I would not return without her.
“Captain, I promise to do my best.
The officer was clearly annoyed, but he had to agree to at least this, since he would not have achieved anything better anyway. Nodding, Cooper left, and the father was left alone with his daughter.
- Did you get it? he asked with visible excitement.
From the outside, it looked very touching: a business man, overweight and balding, was in impatient excitement, like a child on the eve of Christmas.
As slowly as possible, stretching the pause to impossibility, Sophia opened her purse and carefully took out white cardboard rectangles.
- As many as three! she said, enjoying her triumph. “One for you, one for mom, and one for me.
Trenchard nearly snatched the cards from her hand. He could not have been more impatient even if he had lived for a month without food and water. On the invitations, in simple and elegant letters, was embossed:
Trenchard stared at the invitation in amazement.
“I suppose Lord Bellasis will be at this dinner?”
“Of course, the Duchess is his own aunt.
- Yes of course.
By the way, there will be no lunch. I mean a real, big dinner. Just family and a few people who are visiting the Richmonds.
“They always say there won’t be dinner, but usually they do anyway.
Didn't expect to be invited?
James Trenchard dreamed of getting there, but did not count on such luck.
“God, how happy I am!”
“Edmund says that dinner will be served after midnight.
“Don’t call him Edmund anywhere else, only in front of me!” Father remarked sternly. But his fleeting annoyance was again replaced by glee, immediately dispelled by the mere thought of the upcoming event. - Go back to your mother. She needs to get ready, every minute is precious.
Too young and unreasonably self-confident to realize the enormity of her success, Sofia, being, moreover, more pragmatic in such matters than her father, who reveres the powers that be, objected:
It's too late to order a dress.
“But it’s enough time to bring yourself into proper shape.
I'm afraid my mother won't want to go to the ball.
- She'll go where she goes.
Sophia started towards the door when she remembered something else.
“When are we going to tell mom everything?” she asked, glaring at her father.
The question took Trenchard by surprise, and he began fiddling with the gold watch chain. There was an awkward silence. It seemed that everything was exactly the same as a second ago, but the atmosphere in the room had changed in some subtle way. Any outside observer would have easily noticed that the subject of discussion suddenly became much more serious than the choice of clothes for the upcoming ball at the duchess.
“Not yet,” the father replied decisively. “The first thing you need to do is prepare well. We must take an example from him. Now go. And call that stupid idiot back.
The daughter obeyed and slipped out of the room, but even after her departure, James Trenchard remained as uneasy as ever. A scream came from the street. He went to the window, looked down and saw that some officer was arguing with the merchant.
Then the door opened and Captain Cooper entered. Trenchard nodded to him. Whatever happens, things come first.
Sofia was right. Mother did not want to go to the ball.
– We were invited only because someone else refused at the last moment!
- Do you really care?
"How stupid is all this!" Mrs. Trenchard shook her head. “We won’t see a single familiar face there!”
- Dad will surely meet someone he knows.
Anna Trenchard was sometimes annoyed by her children. Despite the condescending tone in which the daughter and son spoke to their mother, they did not know life at all. The father, who doted on his offspring, spoiled them so much that they eventually began to take their happy fate for granted and hardly thought about it. Neither knew anything of the long journey their parents had traveled to reach their present position, although Anna herself remembered every step she took on that rocky road.
- He will meet acquaintances there - several officers who come to him in the service and give him orders. And they will be unspeakably surprised to learn that in the same ballroom with them there is a man supplying their soldiers with food.
“I hope you won’t talk to Lord Bellasis like that?”
Mrs. Trenchard's face softened a little.
“My dear,” she said, and took her daughter by the hand. - Beware of building castles in the air.
Sophia withdrew her fingers.
“Of course you don’t believe in his noble intentions!”
“On the contrary, I am sure that Lord Bellasis is a worthy man. And, no doubt, very enjoyable.
- You see now!
“But he is the eldest son of an earl, my child, with all the duties that such a position imposes on him. He cannot choose his wife, following only the dictates of his heart. I'm not angry. Both of you are young and beautiful, flirting a little - that's okay: neither of you will be harmed by this. Bye. - Anna underlined the last word, so it became clear what she was getting at. – Sophia, but all this must end before the conversations discrediting you start, otherwise you will suffer, not he.
“Does it mean anything to you that Lord Bellasis got us invitations to his aunt’s ball?”
- It only means that you are a nice girl and he wants to please you. In London, Lord Bellasis would not be able to arrange such a thing, but in Brussels everything is marked by war, so that the usual rules are no longer valid.
The last words outraged Sofia in earnest.
“Are you saying that we are not proper company for the friends of the Duchess under the usual rules?”
Mrs. Trenchard was in her own way as strong of character as her daughter.
“That's what I want to say, and you know it's true.
“Dad wouldn’t agree with you.
“He has been on the road to success for a long time, has come a long way than many can imagine, and does not notice the obstacles that may prevent him from going further. Be satisfied with what we have. Your father has achieved a lot. This is quite something to be proud of.
The door opened, and Mrs. Trenchard's maid came in, dressed in evening dress.
Ma'am, am I too early?
“No, no, Ellis, come in. We're done talking, aren't we, Sophia?
“If you think so, Mommy. Sophia left the room, but judging by her upturned chin, she left undefeated.
It was clear from Ellis' expressive silence that she was eager to find out what had caused the quarrel, but Anna waited a few minutes while the maid spun around her, unbuttoning the buttons and removing the day dress from the mistress's shoulders, and only then said:
“We were invited on the fifteenth to a ball at the Duchess of Richmond's.
- Yes you!
Ordinarily, Mary Ellis was excellent at keeping her feelings to herself, but this shocking news unsettled her. However, the maid quickly pulled herself together:
“I mean, we have to decide about the dress, ma'am. If so, I will need time to prepare it.
“What if we wear blue silk?” I haven't worn much this season. Here's the thing, look for some black lace on the neckline and sleeves to spice it up a bit.
Anna Trenchard was a woman of practicality, but not without vanity. A slender figure, a chiseled profile, thick brown hair - she could still be considered a beauty. However, she didn't let the thought go to her head.
Ellis sat down, unrolling her straw-colored taffeta evening gown for her mistress to step into.
“What about jewelry, ma'am?”
“I haven't thought about it yet. I'll probably wear what I have.
Anna turned her back to let the maid fasten the gold buttons. Perhaps she treated Sophia unnecessarily harshly, but Anna did not regret it. The daughter was in the clouds, like her father, and careless dreams lead to trouble. Anna smiled involuntarily. She said that James had come a long way, but sometimes it seemed to her that even Sophia did not quite understand how long he had been.
“I suppose it was Lord Bellasis who gave you the invitations to the ball?” - Ellis, who sat down at the feet of the lady to help her change shoes, looked at her from below.
I knew at once that Mrs. Trenchard did not like the question. Why would a maid suddenly be interested in how exactly they were included in the list of the chosen ones invited to the ball, and why were they invited somewhere at all? Anna chose to ignore the question. But he led her to reflect on the strangeness of their life in Brussels and how everything had changed for them since her husband had caught the eye of the heroic Duke of Wellington. True, we must pay tribute to James Trenchard: no matter the circumstances - no matter how fierce the battle was, no matter how deserted the area turned out to be - he always knew how, as if by magic, to get provisions from somewhere. No wonder the duke called him the Wizard. It seems that James actually was, or at least tried to appear to be. But success only inflated his exorbitant ambitions. Anna's husband dreamed of climbing to the unattainable heights of society, and his progress up the social ladder only suffered from this. James Trenchard, the son of a simple merchant, whom Anna's father had once categorically forbade her to marry, considered it quite natural that the duchess would accept them. Anna would have called his ambitions ridiculous, if not for one circumstance: they have already inexplicably come true more than once.
Mrs. Trenchard was much more educated than her husband, as befits the daughter of a schoolmaster. When they first met, such a game was simply dizzyingly profitable for him, but now Anna understood perfectly well that during this time James had gone far ahead. She even began to wonder how much longer she could keep up with his fantastic ascent. Maybe, when the children become adults, she should retire to the village, settle in a simple rural house and leave her husband to make his way to the heights on his own?
In the silence of the hostess, Ellis intuitively felt that she had asked inappropriately. She wanted to say some compliment to make amends, but then she decided to just sit quietly and let the storm subside by itself.
The door opened and James stepped into the room.
Sophia has already told you? He arranged everything!
Anna glanced at the maid.
Thanks, Ellis. Please come back to me after a while.
The maid left. James couldn't help but smile.
“You reprimand me for making plans that do not suit my humble position, and you yourself send the maid away with an air as if you yourself were a duchess.
"I hope you're joking," Anna bristled.
- So what? What do you have against the Duchess of Richmond?
“Absolutely nothing, for the simple reason that I absolutely do not know her, just like you. - Anna wanted to bring a touch of reality to this absurdity. “That's why we can't afford to force ourselves on a poor woman and take seats in a crowded ballroom that should rightfully be given to her friends.
But James was too excited to descend from heaven to earth so easily.
"You're not serious, are you?"
“Seriously, but you won’t even listen!”
She turned out to be right. There was no hope of cooling her husband's ardor.
- Annie, yes, such a chance falls once in a lifetime! Just imagine: there will be a duke! Even two dukes, for that matter. My commander and the husband of our mistress.
- That's it.
“And the Prince of Orange himself!” He paused, overwhelmed with delight. - James Trenchard, who started his career behind a stall in Covent Garden Market, is getting ready to dance with a real princess!
Don't you dare ask anyone to dance! You will only embarrass us both.
- All right, we'll see.
- I am not kidding. Enough already that you goad Sophia.
James frowned.
“You doubt in vain, the boy has quite serious intentions. I'm sure.
- What nonsense! Anna shook her head in annoyance. “Whatever his intentions, he is not a match for our Sophia. As for the choice of a wife, then Lord Bellasis is not his own master, so this story cannot end with anything good.
There was a rumble from the street, and Anna looked out onto the balcony in order to find out what was happening there. Her bedroom windows overlooked a wide and busy avenue. Below, a few soldiers in scarlet uniforms were marching past the house, and the sun's rays glittered on gold-embroidered galloons.
“How strange,” Anna thought, “everything around is talking about an imminent battle, and we are discussing the upcoming ball.”
She returned to the room.
“Let's wait and see,” James said, continuing the conversation, stubbornly not wanting to part with his illusions. He had the expression of an offended four-year-old on his face.
“Keep in mind, if all this nonsense you’re telling Sophia gets her in trouble, I’ll only blame you.
- Agreed.
“And to make an unfortunate young man beg his aunt for invitations is utterly humiliating.
James lost his patience:
"You won't be able to ruin our visit!" I won't allow it!
“I don't need to do anything. Everything will be upset by itself.
This is where the conversation ended. Angry, James rushed off to change for dinner, and his wife rang the bell, again inviting Ellis to her place.
Anna was dissatisfied with herself. She did not like quarrels, but the story of the invitation to the ball depressed her. Mrs. Trenchard was quite content with life. They got rich, they were successful, they were looking for acquaintances in the business community of London, but James stubbornly sought to break everything, constantly wanting even more. Now she will be forcibly pushed into an endless suite of rooms in a house where their family is not loved and appreciated. She would have to converse with people who secretly—perhaps openly—despise them. If it were not for the exorbitant ambitions of the spouse, they would live in peace and mutual respect. Anna thought something like this, at the same time knowing perfectly well that she could not stop her husband. No one in the world can stop James. Such is the nature of this man.
In the many years that have passed since the ball at the Duchess of Richmond, so much has been written about this event that it gradually acquired the luxury and solemnity inherent in the coronation ceremony of a medieval queen. Stories about this evening are found in various works of art, it served as a plot for many paintings, and each new image of it certainly became more pompous than the previous one. So, on the canvas of Henry O'Neill in 1868, this ball takes place in a spacious palace hall, outlined by a row of huge marble columns; the room is filled to overflowing with hundreds of guests who literally sob with grief and horror and look more colorful than the corps de ballet at the Drury Lane Theater. As is often the case with key moments in history, the reality was quite different.
The Richmonds had come to Brussels partly to save money, to cut down on day-to-day expenses after spending several years abroad, and partly to show solidarity with the Duke of Wellington, their longtime friend who had set up his headquarters there. Richmond himself, a former soldier, was given the task of directing the defense of Brussels if the worst happened and the enemy attacked the city. The Duke agreed. He understood that this work was mostly rear, but it also had to be done by someone, and Richmond was pleased to realize that he was part of the military machine, and not an idle observer. There were plenty of the latter in the city anyway.
There were few palaces in Brussels at that time, and most of them were already occupied, so the Richmonds settled in the house that had been occupied by a fashionable coachmaker. This house was on the Rue de la Blanchissérie, which literally translates from French as Laundry Street, which is why Wellington dubbed the Richmonds' new dwelling the Bath House. The Duchess liked the joke less than her husband. The room, which we would now call the carriage maker's trading floor, was a spacious shed located to the left of the front door, and got into it through a small office, where once customers discussed with the master the upholstery of the carriage and other additional details. The Richmonds' third daughter, Lady Georgiana Lennox, refers to this part of the house as the dressing room in her memoirs. The room, where ready-made carriages used to be exhibited, was covered with wallpaper with images of roses on the tapestries, and after that the hall was considered suitable for the ball.
The Duchess of Richmond had brought her whole family with her to the Continent, and as young girls, deprived of impressions, languished the most, it was decided to arrange a party. But in early June, Napoleon, who had escaped from exile on the island of Elba that year, left Paris in search of allies. The Duchess of Richmond asked Wellington if it was appropriate for her to continue preparing for the entertainment, and he assured the friend's wife that it was quite appropriate. Moreover, the duke expressed his ardent wish that the ball should take place: this would be both a demonstration of English composure and an occasion to clearly show that even ladies are little disturbed by the thought of the approach of the French emperor and refuse to deprive themselves of entertainment. Of course, in words everything was easy ...
I hope we don't make a mistake? the duchess repeated for the twentieth time in the last hour, throwing a searching glance into the mirror.
She was quite pleased with what she saw: a stately woman, barely coming of age, dressed in light cream silks and still able to make men turn their heads after her. The diamonds were incomparable, although among friends there was talk that the originals were replaced with rhinestones for the sake of economy.
- It's too late to think. “The Duke of Richmond was somewhat amused by what was happening. The couple saw the trip to Brussels as an opportunity to escape society, but to their surprise, the society came here with them. And now the wife was throwing a party with a list of guests that would be the envy of the hostess of any London party, while the city was preparing to hear the roar of French guns. - It was a wonderful lunch. At dinner, I just can not eat anything.
"Wait, you're still hungry."
I hear the carriage has arrived. We must go down.
The duke was a good man, a kind and loving father (his children simply adored him) and had enough strength of character to marry one of the daughters of the infamous Duchess of Gordon, whose adventures for several years gave all of Scotland food for gossip. At that time, many believed that the duke could have made a more reliable choice, and perhaps if he had done so, his life would have been easier, but in any case, Richmond himself did not regret anything. His wife was an extravagant woman, no doubt, but at the same time good-natured, sweet and smart. Richmond was glad that he had chosen her at the time.
In the little parlour, or, as Georgiana puts it, in the vestibule through which the guests passed to enter the ballroom, a few early-arriving people were already waiting. Local flower girls did their best, decorating the room with huge arrangements of pale pink roses and white lilies (all the stamens were carefully removed from them so that the ladies did not get dirty with pollen), complemented by tall green leaves of various shades. Bouquets gave the carriage house a nobility. In the quivering radiance of the numerous candelabra, the room acquired a slight sheen of luxury, which it lacked in the light of day.
The Duchess's nephew, Edmund, Viscount Bellasis, was talking to the hosts' daughter Georgiana. They approached her parents together.
“Who are these people that Edmund made you invite?” Why don't we know them? the girl asked her mother.
"You'll find out after tonight," Lord Bellasis cut in.
"You don't talk much," said Georgiana.
“I hope your mother will not be angry with me,” said the duchess. She, too, was overcome with doubts, and she already regretted her own generosity.
When Edmund asked, his aunt handed him three invitations without hesitation, but now, after thinking it over, she realized that her sister would not be pleased. And then - what a coincidence! - the voice of the majordomo rang out, announcing:
“Mr. and Mrs. James Trenchard, Miss Sophia Trenchard!”
The Duke looked towards the door.
Did you invite the Wizard? - (The wife answered with a puzzled look.) - This is the nickname of Wellington's main supplier, - Richmond explained. – What is he doing here?
“Quartermaster of the Duke of Wellington?” The Duchess turned sternly to her nephew. “I invited a merchant to my ball?”
But Lord Bellasis was not easily embarrassed.
“Dear aunt, you have invited one of our heroic duke’s most devoted and intelligent assistants. Believe me, any loyal Briton would be proud to have the opportunity to host Mr. Trenchard at home.
“Edmund, you tricked me!” And I don't like being fooled.
But the young man had already left to meet new guests. The Duchess cast an angry glance at her husband.
Togo was amused by his wife's fury:
“Don't look at me so hard, dear. I have nothing to do with this. It was you who invited them. And you can't help admitting that the quartermaster's daughter is pretty.
At least it was true. Sophia looked as charming as ever today.
Before Richmond could say anything more, the Trenchards had already come up to them. Anna spoke first.
“Duchess, it was so kind of you to invite us.
“Oh, what are you, Mrs. Trenchard. I think you are very kind to my nephew.
“I am always glad to see Lord Bellasis.
Anna chose the dress well. The blue silk accentuated her slender figure, and the delicate lace Ellis had found complemented it perfectly. Diamonds, although they could not compete with other jewelry in the hall, nevertheless looked quite worthy.
The Duchess involuntarily relented.
“It's hard for young people to be away from home,” she said, almost kindly.
James was tormented by a persistent thought: should the duchess be addressed as “your grace”? But he restrained himself, not wanting to interfere. It seems that no one took his wife's words as an insult, but James still doubted. He opened his mouth...
Who do I see! Is this the Wizard? Richmond beamed quite sincerely. If he was surprised to meet this merchant in his living room, he did not show it. “Remember how we prepared some plans in case the reservists were mobilized?
“I remember perfectly well your…your proposal, I meant to say. Duke.
The last word was a separate phrase that had no connection with the rest of the conversation. And as if a pebble was suddenly thrown into a still pond: for several painful seconds, it seemed to James that the awkwardness of this clumsy statement went around him in waves. But Anna's soft smile and nod cheered him up, and Trenchard was relieved that he didn't seem to have embarrassed anyone.
Anna took matters into her own hands.
Let me introduce you to my daughter Sophia.
Sophia curtsied to the hostess, who looked her up and down as if she were buying venison for dinner (which, of course, she had never done in her life). The girl was pretty and very graceful, but the look thrown at her father again clearly reminded the duchess that there could be no question of any continuation of this story. The Duchess was afraid that her sister, having learned about this evening, would accuse her of connivance. But Edmund is surely not seriously interested in this girl? He was always a prudent boy and never gave his parents the slightest trouble.
“Miss Trenchard, will you let me take you to the ballroom?” Edmund tried to keep outward coldness, but his aunt was not so easy to fool - she knew life too well to be deceived by this feigned indifference.
The Duchess's heart simply broke when she saw how the girl took Edmund by the arm and they, whispering, walked together, as if they already belonged to each other.
– Harris! Didn't expect to see you here! Edmund called out to the pleasant young man. “Meet Major Thomas Harris.
“I need to unwind, too,” said the young officer, bowing to the hosts, and smiled at Sophia.
She laughed, they were all happy because they were here together. Sophia and Edmund moved on towards the dance hall, followed by their aunt's worried look. The Duchess involuntarily admitted to herself that they were a very beautiful couple: Sophia's blond hair and grace were in harmony with Edmund's dark curls and chiseled features, his manly mouth and cleft chin. The Duchess met her husband's gaze. Both understood that what was happening was almost beyond their control. Or maybe not "almost".
"Mr. James and Lady Frances Wedderburn-Webster," the majordomo announced, and the duke stepped forward to greet the next guests.
Rated the book
In case you want to have a long conversation with me, it's worth asking about Julian Fellows and Downton Abbey. Get ready for an unending stream of praise, admiration and emotion. I cannot do otherwise with this author!
What attracts the reader in such books? Why are we so drawn to immerse ourselves in the atmosphere of the books of Miss Austin, Mr. Dickens, the Brontë sisters? We are driven by the desire not just to find out how people used to live, but to be imbued with the very atmosphere of old England, getting acquainted with the stories of individual people. We go through a difficult path with them, and finding something in common with our favorite character, we begin to feel that those times are not so far away as it seemed.
It is surprising that the problems and experiences of such, at first glance, different times and completely different people are easily shifted to a modern way, turning out to be very familiar. Times change, but intractable eternal questions remain. Therefore, history attracts not only by the style of presentation and the era, but also by the proximity of what is happening.
Give me this book without a cover and any information about the release date, and I will believe that it was written a very long time ago - closer to the events taking place in it. And all why? Because Fellows, in his well-known manner, narrates the beautiful language of the English classics of the 19th and 20th centuries. Refined, beautiful and measured, this style is addictive, transferring to its era. Read a few pages and you will immediately understand what I mean.
The true talent of Julian Fellows is manifested in the ability to subtly recreate the atmosphere of the UK of yesteryear. Emphasizing important moments in history, taking into account even the smallest details of time, mastering such a manner of speaking ... From the first page you can feel how much knowledge the author has, and most importantly - how much he is passionate about it! I'm sure it's impossible to create such amazing things as this book, or Downton Abbey, without being in love with your idea. I put my whole soul into it!
The most elite district of London - Belgravia - greets readers with family secrets and intrigues, traditions and customs, hopes and disappointments, relationships between masters and servants. It is not typical for such a plot to be insanely unpredictable and dynamic, but it will certainly please fans of the classics and England with its attractiveness and regularity.
Rated the book
A simple and cute stylization of the classics, created in the good traditions of Ch. Dickens, G. James, G. Fielding, J. Galsworthy. Aristocrats and servants, virtue and vice, lost hopes and happy accidents, mistakes and discoveries, crime and mercy - all this is densely and carefully strewn with the pages of this book. But if “The Story of Tom Jones, the Foundling” once shocked my childish imagination, then this text, written according to the laws of the screenplay genre, was not particularly impressive, and the drawings of the characters at the end puzzled: the poor reader was not allowed to fantasize even here, providing him with pointers to mid-nineteenth century fashion. Either the age for such stories has passed, and I don’t believe in happy endings for deceptively dramatic beginning plots for a long time, or the story is too straightened out - a stereotype on a stereotype, without nuances and attempts at individual deviation from the standard development of events - but all this was not particularly impressive . Just a school anthology! Was the author really afraid of being shot for “a step to the left, a step to the right”?
Reading, guessing everything in advance, was not particularly interesting: intrigues, not having time to start, cease to be intrigues, and trials cease to be trials, because you know for sure: everything will be fine for all positive characters, and all negative ones will be rewarded according to their deserts, and everything will end some kind of wedding and "they lived happily ever after, and died on the same day." Everything was very virtuous and conscientious, it was easy to read, but insipid and boring. All the time I lacked bright emotional colors in this pastel smeared over many pages. It seems that it was A. S. Pushkin who was surprised at the actions of his own heroes: “Imagine what my Tatyana did - she took it and got married!” So, from the heroes of J. Fellows you will never expect this for anything - they, like prisoners of his plan, step foot in step following their plot sentence, "bound by one chain ...".
There is such a curious pictorial genre - tromples, fake paintings:
"Belgravia" seemed to me the same kind of fake book, which the author, without much fanfare, but also without writer's awkwardness, gives out as a fragment of reality, not at all hoping that the reader will take all this at face value. But... in the very genre of decoy lies, as M. Bulgakov would say, "exposing all kinds of magic": the picture itself shows the viewer how easily art deceives us. So, maybe this book just gives us the opportunity to be deceived for a while, imagining both the then tempora and ageless mores, and rejoice at our own deceit? “Ah, it’s not difficult to deceive me! .. I myself am glad to be deceived!”
Rated the book
This is one of those books that are hard to write reviews for. So I scolded him Snobs somehow, and most of my friends liked them and were highly appreciated, unlike Belgravia.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I love, apparently, sometimes tediousness. Although ... I would not be in such a hurry to evaluate the book, it can hardly be called boring. But there is enough snobbery here too. And templates too. So they are, these aristocrats, and those who really want to be like them. Prim, swaggering, arrogant and very, very predictable.
Marry for love Not only kings can't. Calculation, well-being and following decency - these are the main foundations of life of the higher world of this world. And not even money to money. You can even be poor, like a church mouse, the main origin, and you will be happy to receive in any aristocratic house.
Charles is handsome, smart, rich, enterprising and in love with a girl out of his circle. He is not a match for her, and he understands this very well. And he tries with all his might to avoid meeting with his beloved Mary. But there is one secret in his past that he does not know about, or rather, only a few know about it, but even for the elite it is a secret of secrets, because everything is very complicated, and everything is very confusing. But the inevitable happy ending is guaranteed. And this is not a spoiler, not in vain, because the well-known series is mentioned on the cover of the book.
Yes, this is a one time read. Yes, sometimes there are inconsistencies. Yes, the author (personally) infuriated me, and (by the way, I remember in Snobs too) with detailed descriptions of who is wearing what, what color is the jacket, shoes, etc. And on one page several times. But I rested.
A pleasant, not at all boring love story, one of those that are not cloying, and without unnecessary bed and intimate details. Under the classics and sincerely.
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