The Colonial Countess

By Robin Bell

The Colonial Countess

The Colonial Countess

When, at the urging of her dying mother, eighteen-year-old farmworker Mary Evans sails for England in 1886, she has no idea that she has inherited her grandmother's heraldic title of Countess. Unused to the way of the British aristocracy, and much to the consternation of her pee

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Book Bureau
• Release date: May 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781960548030

Robin Bell

ROBIN BELL, is a retired teacher who now lives on and manages the family dairy farm in South Gippsland, Victoria, Australia purchased by her grandfather in 1910.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Victoria, Australia

Late December 1885

Despite the need to get home for the evening milking, seventeen-year-old Mary Evans could not resist pausing at the top of the hill to gaze out over the view she loved so dearly. The rolling hills, bathed in sunlight, and the flats, with dairy and beef cattle grazing in the paddocks, that stretched down to the sea sparkling on the horizon.

After a couple of minutes she sighed, and turned her horse, knowing that she had a busy afternoon and evening ahead of her, before she could relax for a short time after dinner before going to bed.

As Trixie cantered slowly along the drive to the farmyard, Mary thought of the letter in her pocket. They rarely received letters these days, let alone ones from overseas. Stratford, Synbeck and Lyons, Solicitors, sounded very formal, and she wondered ‘why is a solicitor from England writing to mother?’

After leaving the groceries and mail in the kitchen, and checking that her mother was comfortable on the couch beside the fire in the living room, Mary went out to the dairy to assist her stepbrother Graham milk the small herd of cows that they still owned, following their father’s tragic death fighting a bushfire two years ago.

They chatted as they milked, then Graham shut the cows in their night paddock while Mary fed the chooks and locked them in their shed. She also shut the pigs in their pigsty, then fed and chained the dogs to their kennels, before heading to the kitchen for dinner.

Aunt Clara, their father’s sister, lived on the farm with them, doing the bulk of the housework and cooking now, while Mary and Graham did the farm work. She also nursed Mary’s mother Patricia, who was virtually bedridden these days, following a severe bout of influenza three months ago that had left her with a severe cough and muscle weakness.

When Patricia read the solicitor’s letter after dinner, she went very pale and took some time to regain her breath before she looked up at Mary.

‘Please help me back to bed, Mary. Then bring me the large yellow envelope that is in the top drawer of my desk.’

Patricia lay back against her pillow with a sigh of relief. ‘Mary, that letter was from my mother’s solicitor, asking me to return to England as soon as possible. My brother David has been killed in a riding accident, and my mother is desperate to see me again.’

Mary was astounded to hear this news, as she had no idea that she had a grandmother and, until recently, an uncle in England. Her mother had always been very reticent to discuss her life before she arrived in Australia and met her husband Tom, a widower with his two-year-old son Graham.

Imagine Mary’s astonishment when she saw that the solicitor had addressed her mother as Lady Patricia! ‘Why does the solicitor call you Lady Patricia, Mother?’

Before Patricia could answer she was overcome by a severe bout of coughing, and took some time before she could speak. ‘Mary, my love, you will have to go to England in my place, to see your grandmother. There is no way that I could undertake a three-month sailing voyage in my state of health.’

When Mary opened her mouth to reply, Patricia squeezed her hand gently. ‘Mary, the contents of the yellow envelope, plus the key taped to the desk drawer, must be taken to the solicitor Mr Lyons, at his office in Lewes in Southern England as quickly as possible. I will explain all about our family in England, after you get me a cup of tea.’

While Mary was in the kitchen making the tea she heard her mother coughing again, so hurried back to her bedroom. To her horror, when she entered the bedroom, she found her mother lying motionless on the bed, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Three days later, on the first day of the New Year, Patricia was laid to rest beside her beloved Tom in the local cemetery. Mary was the sole beneficiary of Patricia’s will, her worldly wealth appearing to consist mainly of a few pieces of jewellery, and a small amount of money. The farm was now Graham’s, so Mary was at a loss as to what the future might hold for her.

As the days passed, Mary began to think more about the mystery of her mother’s family in England, and reread the solicitor’s letter. He stated that a solicitor in Melbourne had been instructed to arrange and pay for Patricia’s passage to England, and this led Mary to wonder if those instructions might now apply to herself if she decided to go to England.

Following much discussion with Graham and Aunt Clara about the pros and cons of such a trip, it was decided that Mary should at least take the train to Melbourne, and speak to the solicitor, Mr Mee.

So, on a hot January day, a fortnight following her mother’s death, and two days after her eighteenth birthday, Mary arrived at Flinders Street Station in Melbourne, feeling stiff and sore, after sitting on a hard wooden seat for the three-hour duration of her first train journey.

After a refreshing cup of tea at the station, Mary hired a cab to the solicitor’s address in King Street. Walking up the stairs to the office on the third floor, she began to have serious doubts regarding what she was about to do, but then decided that she was being pathetic. Before she could change her mind, she knocked on the door with Mr Mee’s name on it, opening the door when she heard a voice call, ‘Come in.’

A young lady sitting at the desk smiled as she looked up from her typewriter. ‘Good morning, Miss. How may I help you?’

Mary handed her the letter and Patricia’s will. ‘My name is Mary Evans. Could I please see Mr Mee about this letter to my mother?’

The letter was taken through to another office. Soon after, a middle-aged man appeared and ushered Mary into in the inner office, where he pointed to a chair in front of his desk.

‘Please take a seat, Miss Evans. I am Charles Mee, the solicitor referred to in this letter to your mother. May I ask why your mother has not accompanied you to speak to me?’

Mary took a deep breath. ‘My mother died not long after she read that letter she received just after Christmas, Mr Mee.’

‘I am so sorry to hear your tragic news, Miss Evans. How may I help you?’

‘Thank you, Mr Mee. Before my mother died, she told me that she was too unwell to travel to England, and wanted me to go to meet her mother in her stead. I must tell you Mr Mee, that I had no idea I had relations in England.’

‘Did your mother never speak to you of her life before coming to Australia, Miss Evans?’

‘Please call me Mary, Mr Mee. Mother never spoke of her life before she met and married my father in Melbourne, and I’m very puzzled to see my mother being referred to as Lady Patricia.’

‘I’m sorry I can’t help you Mary, and like you, I know nothing of your mother’s history.’

‘Mr Mee, as the sole beneficiary of my mother’s will, could the reference to ‘arrangement and payment for Mother’s passage to England’ be transferred to me?’

The solicitor quickly reread Patricia’s will, then smiled. ‘I see no reason why not, Mary. The sooner you leave the better. Would you like a cup of tea while you think seriously about what a trip to England would entail?’

While Mary drank the tea brought in by Mr Mee’s receptionist, he took a folder from the top drawer of his desk. ‘I will start looking into booking your passage on the next steamship bound for England straight away, Mary. Do you have somewhere to stay in Melbourne while these arrangements are being made?’

Mary shook her head in dismay. ‘No, Mr Mee. I came to your office straight from the station, and was expecting to travel home this afternoon. I’m afraid that I don’t have enough money with me to stay one night in Melbourne, let alone more.’

‘As your mother’s sole beneficiary all of your expenses from today on will be covered by her estate.’

Mr Mee stood up and opened his office door. ‘Carol, please take Miss Evans to the Winsor Hotel, and book her a suite for the rest of the week.’

As Mary and Carol were leaving the office Mr Mee handed Mary a heavy leather purse. ‘This should cover your personal expenses while you wait to hear about your passage to England, Mary. Make sure that you leave this purse in the hotel safe whenever you leave the hotel.’

The next three days were a blur of totally new experiences for Mary. She had never seen such splendour as the foyer of the hotel, the rooms of her suite that would have housed a family at home; and the dining room and food were beyond her belief!

When she tentatively asked how she was to pay for all this luxury, she was told that everything was taken care of. ‘By whom’ she wondered ‘and why?’

The crowded streets and the shop windows fascinated Mary, though she was careful not to wander too far from the hotel on her own. Mr Mee called to see her just after lunch on the third day, to inform her that she was booked on a ship sailing for England in two days’ time.

He introduced her to his Aunt Felicity, who was also booked to travel to England on the same ship and was seeking a female companion for the trip. Like Mary, Felicity had never travelled abroad, and was rather apprehensive about being on her own. She had a list of clothing and other articles required for the three-month journey, so the next day she and Mary went shopping together for all the necessary items.

Felicity had been left very comfortably well-off by her deceased husband, and Mary had been assured that her family in England would pay all her costs. However, she was still very careful not to go overboard with her spending, never having been in the habit of spending money on things she really didn’t need.

Chapter 2

On Board ship

Mid-January 1886

The following day all their luggage was transferred to the ship. Just before they too were taken to board, Mary posted a long letter to Graham and Aunt Clara, explaining that she was about to sail for England, and apologising for not getting back to say goodbye in person.

The ship towered above them as they stood on the dock, and it seemed just as huge when they climbed the gangplank, and stood on the upper deck waiting to be taken to their cabins.

Mary was delighted, but rather stunned, to find that she had been allocated a first-class cabin all to herself, while Felicity was in a similar cabin a little further down the passageway. Both ladies went back out onto the deck to watch as the ship left the dock and sailed down Port Phillip Bay, and out through the Heads to Bass Strait, each of them wondering if they would ever return.

Thankfully, both Mary and Felicity were good sailors, and were two of the few passengers who regularly met in the dining room for meals during the first three days of the journey, when the weather was extremely windy and the huge waves seemed to toss the large ship around like a cork.

Following their first stop at Albany, on the southern tip of West Australia, the ship headed north into the Indian Ocean, on route to the next stop at Galle, a port on the island of Ceylon. Apart from a couple of rather violent storms, the voyage was uneventful.

Both women enjoyed the journey immensely, filling their time with the many activities on the ship, reading books from the ship’s library and they chatted as they wandered the decks, or sat in the passengers’ lounge.

The weather became quite hot as they crossed the equator, and neither of them ignored the stewardess’ suggestion to divest themselves of as much of their heavy undergarments as possible and to wear cotton dresses if they had them.

Felicity and Mary both enjoyed getting off the ship at Galle, keen to stretch their legs and see some of the sites near the port before the ship headed to Suez, where they began the much-anticipated journey through the Suez Canal to Port Said on the Mediterranean Sea. The canal was quite narrow, the banks seemingly quite close to the sides of the big steamship as it slowly made its way towards Port Said. There were a couple of lakes where ships could pass, so their progress was unimpeded.

The Mediterranean Sea was calm and the weather fine for most of the journey to Marseille, the southern French port where some of the passengers disembarked, before the final leg through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Atlantic Ocean, then the English Channel.

Finally, just after breakfast on an early April morning, the ship sailed up the Thames River and berthed at the Royal Albert Dock, in London. The journey had taken two and a half months, the Suez Canal cutting the voyage time by a couple of weeks.

While Mary and Felicity were a little sad that they were to go their separate ways when they docked, they were also relieved to be at the end of their sea voyage, and were looking forward to having solid ground under their feet once again.

Chapter 3

England

Mid-April 1886

The purser met Mary before she left the ship. ‘An employee of the solicitor Mr Lyons is waiting for you at the foot of the gangplank, Miss Evans. He will collect your luggage, and arrange transport for you.’

When Mary walked down the gangplank, a young man with a broad smile stepped forward and touched the brim of his bowler hat. ‘Excuse me, Miss. Would you be Miss Mary Evans,?’

‘Yes, I am.’

He continued in an accent that she found hard to understand. ‘My name is Ben, and I have been sent to take you to meet Mr Lyons. Please wait in this cab while I collect your luggage.’

Ben handed Mary into a waiting hansom cab, then proceeded to instruct porters to gather all of Mary’s luggage and stow it in a second cab. When all was ready, Ben climbed into the cab with Mary and tapped the roof with his umbrella.

‘We are going to Paddington Station, Miss Evans, where we will catch the afternoon train to Lewes, a town in Sussex about sixty-five miles south of London. We should arrive there late in the afternoon.’

After lunch at Paddington Station, Mary and Ben were taken to the front of the train, where Mary found herself seated in a well-appointed first-class carriage with padded leather seats; a far cry from the hard wooden seat she had endured when travelling to Melbourne.

Mary was apprehensive, yet excited, about her unknown future as they travelled through the countryside, so unlike the country she was accustomed to. The trees were different in shape and colour to the gum trees that she was so fond of at home.

When the train arrived at Lewes station later in the afternoon, Ben escorted Mary to the White Hart Hotel, where a middle-aged gentleman, dressed in a black suit and holding a bowler hat, met them in the foyer. Ben introduced them. ‘Mr Lyons, this is Miss Mary Evans. Miss Evans, may I introduce Mr Lyons?’

While the introduction was being made Mr Lyons stared at Mary with a puzzled frown, before he eventually spoke. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Evans.’

Shaken by his cool reception, Mary seriously wondered what had possessed her to travel to the other side of the world, with no knowledge of what awaited her. However, after his apparent surprise at seeing her – ‘he was, after all, expecting my mother’ she supposed – Mr Lyons booked her a room at the hotel.

Over a much-needed cup of tea in the hotel dining room, Mr Lyons enquired about her trip and her first impressions of the countryside that she had seen on the train journey.

‘The sea voyage was long but quite pleasant, Mr Mee. I find the scenery very different from what I’m used to in Australia.’

Mr Lyons watched Mary as she spoke, then excused himself for his rudeness. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Evans. You look so much like your mother when I knew her nearly twenty years ago that I am quite lost for words. I was devastated to receive Mr Mee’s telegram informing me of dear Lady Patricia’s passing. Do you feel up telling me a little of her life in Australia?’

Mary once again found herself telling the story of the arrival of his letter, and the subsequent events leading to her arrival in Lewes. She also informed him of her total lack of knowledge of her mother’s English background, and her anxiety regarding the money being spent on her behalf, without knowing why or how she was to pay it back.

Mr Lyons noticed Mary stifling a yawn, as fatigue from her travels caught up with her. ‘Why don’t you retire to your room for a rest, my dear, while I read through the contents of your mother’s envelope?’

Before she went to her room, Mary gave Mr Lyons the key that she wore on a chain around her neck. ‘Thank you, Mary. This is the key for your mother’s bank security box.’

That evening, Mary, Mr Lyons, and his wife Celia, had dinner at the hotel. Mrs Lyons was keen to hear about Mary’s life in Australia, and was amazed to hear of the native animals that Mary spoke about, especially the kangaroos.

Before they parted at the end of the meal, arrangements were made for Mary to meet Mr Lyons at his offices across the road at 9:00 in the morning, where he said he would explain everything.

Following her first night on solid ground after two and a half months on board the ship, Mary was ushered into Mr Lyons’s office, where she and Mr Lyons sat in the two lounge chairs near a glowing coal fire. Mr Lyons looked at Mary and took a deep breath. ‘Mary, I must warn you to prepare yourself for some rather surprising information that might take you some time to adjust to.

Your maternal grandmother, Lady Emma Everton, was a countess who, it turns out, sadly died just a week before your mother’s death. This meant that her daughter Lady Patricia inherited her title, and was unknowingly a countess for just a week. Mary, as your mother’s only child, on her death you inherited her title.’

On saying this, Mr Lyons stood in front of Mary and bowed. ‘It gives me great pleasure to be the first person to greet you with your full title - Lady Mary Emma Evans, Countess of Longmire and Oakdale Estates.’

Mary sat stunned for a moment, and then she began to laugh, much to the chagrin of Mr Lyons. It took a little while for her to realise that he was being very serious, and that maybe she should listen to the full story. Mr Lyons smiled at her, then sat down.

‘As the elder of two children, Lady Patricia was the heir to her mother’s heraldic title, a fact bitterly resented by her younger brother David. He tormented Patricia throughout their childhood, and into their teenage years whenever he was home from boarding school, until the day after her eighteenth birthday when Lady Patricia suddenly disappeared.

David told everyone that his sister had slipped and fallen into the river, and had been swept away, but they never found any trace of her body or her clothing, and there was always some doubt of her death. Her mother, the countess, was grief-stricken, but was finally forced to concede that, in Patricia’s continued absence, David would become her heir when he was twenty-one.

David was the total antithesis of Lady Patricia. She was of a sunny disposition, always helping others, and wonderful with children and animals, while David was surly and cruel, to people and animals alike.

Although the countess was forced to name David as her heir, she didn’t trust him, so had a codicil added to her will, stating that should she die by accident or misadventure, David would not inherit the title, nor the fortune and lands that went with it.

Consequently, he spent most of his time living in the family residence in London, spending his allowance as quickly as he received it, gambling and drinking to excess, and growing more bitter and unpleasant as the years passed.

Unfortunately for David, lack of concern for his horse, and judgement clouded by a bad hangover, caused him to be thrown from his saddle when he tried to make his horse jump a large hedge on a frosty morning. He was found barely alive with a broken back, and taken to the local doctor’s surgery, where he died later that afternoon.

Apparently, he made a deathbed confession to the doctor, admitting that he had arranged and paid for his sister to be kidnapped, drugged, and put on a ship sailing to Melbourne, Australia. The couple paid to accompany Patricia, virtually as her gaolers, were told that she was a thief and escapee from the asylum, and was to be kept locked in a cabin for the entire voyage.

As soon as the countess was informed of this confession, she sent people to Australia to search for any information about her beloved daughter. As Patricia had similar features to her mother, a sketch of the countess was sent with the private detectives.

Finally, after nine months of searching, word arrived of a woman married to a Victorian farmer, who might be the lady being sort. A detective from Melbourne thought he had spoken to your mother when he called at a farm to ask for instructions to the next town.

Unfortunately, letters from the colony take months to arrive, so it was a further seven months before my letter to your mother arrived, just prior to her death. Unbeknownst to Patricia, her mother had caught a chill and died just a week before her own untimely death. The wording of Patricia’s will, which I’m sure didn’t make much sense to you at the time Mary, verifies your ascension to the title, and to all it pertains.’

Poor Mary was totally confused and unsure what all this meant to her. ‘I will have some tea and cake sent in, and will give you time to take in the information I have just given you, before we discuss how this will affect your future.’

Half an hour later, Mr Lyons returned. ‘Mary, you are now a Peer of the Realm, an extremely rich young lady, and owner of thousands of acres of land, with stewardship over many thousands more. Also, you are the owner of numerous businesses in England and overseas.’

He paused, while Mary looked at him in horror. ‘The family residence, Longmire Hall, is about six miles from Lewes, with three farms and Longmire Village within the vast Longmire Estate. An equally large acreage, the Oakdale Estate, is up north in Yorkshire, and there is also the family residence in London.’

Head reeling, Mary agreed to go out to lunch, and then visit the bank to have the accounts changed to her name. However, when Mr Lyons asked if she would like to move into Longmire Hall that afternoon Mary shook her head. ‘I would prefer to spend tonight at the hotel, if you don’t mind, Mr Lyons, to try to get my head around all of this incredible information, before I take on the next challenge.’

Chapter 4

Sussex, England

April 1886

The next morning, Mary was astounded when people addressed her as My Lady, or as it sounded, m’lady. The women curtseyed and men bowed their heads to her, as she made her way to the breakfast room with Mr Lyons and his wife Celia.

Celia was amused at Mary’s confusion. ‘As you are now a countess Mary, people speaking to you will refer to you as My Lady or Your Ladyship, not Mary, as you are used to, and you will be referred to as Lady Mary when being spoken about. Your full title will be used when you are introduced to new acquaintances, or at formal occasions.’

Soon afterwards, Mary and Mr Lyons left Lewes in a hansom cab, Mr Lyons patiently explaining what Mary was likely to be confronted with when they arrived at Longmire Hall. A messenger had been sent ahead, to advise the Longmire Hall servants of the new countess’s impending arrival.

While Mary was trying to take all this in, she was also observing the countryside they were travelling through. So different to the scenery she was used to in Australia, yet quite appealing in a way she couldn’t quite fathom.

At first, this confused Mary, but then she remembered that she was now on the other side of the world, and although it was summer when she left Melbourne in January, it was now spring in England.

About half an hour after leaving Lewes, the cab passed through two imposing wrought iron gates, opened by an elderly gateman who doffed his hat, and bowed at the waist as they passed.

The wide driveway passed through a dense woodland of trees, of a type Mary had never seen before, many just beginning to burst into leaf. The woodland changed to open parkland, with grass so short she thought it had been freshly mown until she noticed some black-faced sheep grazing a little way from the driveway.

Mary had lived her entire life in a small, single-story, wooden farmhouse in Australia, and was totally unprepared for the first sight of her new home, Longmire Hall. As the cab rounded a curve in the drive, before her at the end of the long, straight, tree-lined driveway stood an imposing white, multi-storied stone building, with elegant steps leading up to an impressive portico and a stout wooden front door.

Windows seemed to cover the entire facade of the building, with numerous dormer attic windows under a high-pitched roof, with countless chimneys. The grand building was set on a slight slope of the immaculate lawn, with a small lake to the side. The whole setting seemed like a fairy tale to Mary.

As the cab stopped at the marble steps a man appeared, to hold the horse’s head, and another man held out his hand to help Mary down from the cab. The front door opened, and a tall, thin lady dressed in a long black dress appeared and waited as they ascended the six steps.

‘My Lady, may I introduce you to Mrs Howard, the Longmire Hall housekeeper. Mrs Howard, your new countess, Lady Mary Emma Evans, Countess of Longmire, and Oakdale Estates.

Mrs Howard gave a brief curtsey, and said curtly, ‘Welcome to Longmire Hall, My Lady,’ then stood aside, when Mr Lyons stepped forward to lead Mary through the open doorway into a huge, high ceilinged entrance hall, with a black and white tiled floor. There was a wide staircase with beautifully carved banisters, dividing to lead to landings on the left and right of the hall, with a large framed landscape painting adorning the wall at the top of the stairs.

Mary was guided through a door into an imposing sitting room, with a fire blazing in the large ornate fireplace, and a magnificent view through French doors of the manicured green lawns leading down to the lake.

Mr Lyons turned to the housekeeper. ‘Mrs Howard, please have all the indoor staff here in five minutes.’

When the housekeeper turned abruptly and strode out of the room Mr Lyons frowned, then turned to Mary, who he knew would be feeling very intimidated. ‘Don’t worry, my dear, all will be well. Just be polite and formal with the staff.’

Mrs Howard returned, followed by two women and a teenage girl. ‘Your Ladyship, this is Mrs Smith the cook, Polly the parlour maid, and Jane the kitchen maid.’ All three curtsied and said ‘Good morning, My Lady’ in unison.

‘The groom, stable hand, gardener, and his assistant are outside and will