happening here, in the very heart of England." Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner exchanged glances. It was obvious from his countenance and the tone of his voice that Darcy was speaking very seriously. Mr Gardiner responded cautiously, wondering how extensive the practice was.
But Darcy persevered. "I understand it is very popular with the cotton spinners and weavers," he said, adding with some sarcasm, "The children are thought to be small enough to crawl under the machines and clean them," and hearing Elizabeth gasp, he looked at her and added, more gently, "I have this on the best authority, my dear. I know it seems unbelievable, but it's true. What is more, I'm told that all over the Midlands and in parts of the West Riding and Cheshire, the landscape is being blackened with pits and smoke while the trout streams are being choked with wool scour and dye wash." He sounded angry, and Mr Gardiner, realising that Darcy was always passionate about the land, agreed that it was a worrying trend. Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had remained silent at first, but they added their voices in support of Darcy, only to find that their guest, a banker, was adamant that this was the way of the future.
"It's progress," he declared, "and there is a price to be paid for it." "If that is true, I want no part of it," said Darcy in a voice so determined that everyone at the table was left in no doubt of the strength and sincerity of his words. "I have no desire to see the fields and rivers of England sullied and the ordinary working people and their children enslaved by the owners of pits and workshops, just so they can make a great deal of money."
Mrs Gardiner was quite surprised, pleasantly so, on hearing Darcy speak out. Being from the same part of England, she shared his apprehension about the despoiling of the land and was glad to hear it spoken of so passionately. She whispered to her niece, "Lizzie, this is a side of Mr Darcy we have not seen before." Elizabeth assured her aunt that she had become aware of Darcy's concern since their marriage and knew it to be a matter of considerable importance to him.
Elizabeth's pride in her husband grew as she heard his words. She had never heard him speak of these matters with such a degree of passion before, but she knew he had concerns, because from time to time he had been troubled by information he had received.
Recently, there had been incidents reported of rural labourers' being thrown out of work as their masters enclosed the small farms and the commons and introduced "labour saving" machines. Their families, deprived of food and shelter on the farm and rendered homeless, wandered the streets, begging from passers-by.
Worse still, laws had been recently passed to make the casual taking of game punishable by transportation or, in some cases, death. Poachers, as they now were trying to grab a hare, fish, or pheasant to feed a hungry family, might well find themselves arrested, charged, and sentenced to be transported to Botany Bay. Their wives and children either went with them or starved.
Elizabeth knew that Darcy had protested strongly about this abuse of the poor at a meeting with some of the new landowners in the neighbourhood. She'd heard of this from Rosamund Camden whose father had agreed with Darcy and supported his stand. Many others did not. They were caught up in a rush to produce more with less and enrich themselves at the expense of the landless poor who had worked hard for them for generations.
The banker, Mr Fletcher, appeared to be unmoved. "Does that mean you will not enclose the commons on your property, Mr Darcy?" he asked.
"I most certainly will not," replied Darcy, reddening as he spoke, "The commons and some of the woodlands have been set aside for the use of everyone. It would be a gross injustice to enclose them and deny the village people use of the land."
Young Caroline Gardiner, who had been called in by her mother to help with the tea and provide some after-dinner
But Darcy persevered. "I understand it is very popular with the cotton spinners and weavers," he said, adding with some sarcasm, "The children are thought to be small enough to crawl under the machines and clean them," and hearing Elizabeth gasp, he looked at her and added, more gently, "I have this on the best authority, my dear. I know it seems unbelievable, but it's true. What is more, I'm told that all over the Midlands and in parts of the West Riding and Cheshire, the landscape is being blackened with pits and smoke while the trout streams are being choked with wool scour and dye wash." He sounded angry, and Mr Gardiner, realising that Darcy was always passionate about the land, agreed that it was a worrying trend. Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had remained silent at first, but they added their voices in support of Darcy, only to find that their guest, a banker, was adamant that this was the way of the future.
"It's progress," he declared, "and there is a price to be paid for it." "If that is true, I want no part of it," said Darcy in a voice so determined that everyone at the table was left in no doubt of the strength and sincerity of his words. "I have no desire to see the fields and rivers of England sullied and the ordinary working people and their children enslaved by the owners of pits and workshops, just so they can make a great deal of money."
Mrs Gardiner was quite surprised, pleasantly so, on hearing Darcy speak out. Being from the same part of England, she shared his apprehension about the despoiling of the land and was glad to hear it spoken of so passionately. She whispered to her niece, "Lizzie, this is a side of Mr Darcy we have not seen before." Elizabeth assured her aunt that she had become aware of Darcy's concern since their marriage and knew it to be a matter of considerable importance to him.
Elizabeth's pride in her husband grew as she heard his words. She had never heard him speak of these matters with such a degree of passion before, but she knew he had concerns, because from time to time he had been troubled by information he had received.
Recently, there had been incidents reported of rural labourers' being thrown out of work as their masters enclosed the small farms and the commons and introduced "labour saving" machines. Their families, deprived of food and shelter on the farm and rendered homeless, wandered the streets, begging from passers-by.
Worse still, laws had been recently passed to make the casual taking of game punishable by transportation or, in some cases, death. Poachers, as they now were trying to grab a hare, fish, or pheasant to feed a hungry family, might well find themselves arrested, charged, and sentenced to be transported to Botany Bay. Their wives and children either went with them or starved.
Elizabeth knew that Darcy had protested strongly about this abuse of the poor at a meeting with some of the new landowners in the neighbourhood. She'd heard of this from Rosamund Camden whose father had agreed with Darcy and supported his stand. Many others did not. They were caught up in a rush to produce more with less and enrich themselves at the expense of the landless poor who had worked hard for them for generations.
The banker, Mr Fletcher, appeared to be unmoved. "Does that mean you will not enclose the commons on your property, Mr Darcy?" he asked.
"I most certainly will not," replied Darcy, reddening as he spoke, "The commons and some of the woodlands have been set aside for the use of everyone. It would be a gross injustice to enclose them and deny the village people use of the land."
Young Caroline Gardiner, who had been called in by her mother to help with the tea and provide some after-dinner
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