Honoria Bartram

Honoria Bartram

Portrayed by Isabella Rossellini
Full Name	Honoria Sarah Bartram
Associated Noble House(s)	Barony of Bartram
Date of Birth	20 August 1768
Father	Peregrine Bartram
Father's Rank	Baron Bartram of Everston
Mother	Sarah Bartram (née Freye)
Mother's Rank	Baroness Bartram of Everston
Town Residence	{{{residence}}}
Year of Debut	1786
Dowry	It's not a dowry. It's a competent income. Don't ask for exact figures. That's vulgar.

The only daughter of Baron Bartram of Everston, the honourable Miss Honoria Bartram was born on 20th August 1768 in the family estate, Everston Castle, in Devon. She is unmarried and likes to think of herself as part of the ton, yet apart from it. Her nephew, library and small household in Bartram House are sources of pride for her. In addition to being a patron of the arts, she enjoys music, philosophy and poetry. She occasionally composes poetry for private circulation amongst friends.

Honoria is played by Yeatshaw.

Family

Father: Peregrine Bartram, 13th Baron Bartram of Everston, 1741-present
Mother: Sarah Bartram (née Freye), Baroness Bartram of Everston, 1739-1800 (deceased)

Eldest Brother: William Bartram, 1761-1805 (deceased)
Eldest Sister-in-law: Eleanor Bartram (nee Sothersby), 1770-present

Second Brother: John Bartram, 1763-1789 (deceased)
Second Sister-in-law: Florentia Bartram (née Hartwell), 1767-1798 (deceased)
Nephew: John Silvanus Bartram, 16th July 1785-present

Fitzgerald cousins via the Freye connexion: Family of the Earl of Rotherham (Lady Viola Fitzgerald, Lady Olivia Fitzgerald, Lt. Colonel Robert Fitzgerald and the rest of the Fitzgerald clan, as well as Mrs Dorothy Greystone)

Freye cousins: The family of Gregory, Julian and Henrietta Freye.

Background

This youngest child of Lord Bartram was born in the family estate, Everston Castle, in Devon. Though her parents were thrilled to have a girl after two boys, her eldest brother, William was less enthralled with her arrival. Prior to her birth, he was the apple of his father’s eye, but he was now supplanted by Honoria. Consequently, he kept himself aloof from Honoria out of pique, and as they grew up, he regarded her as a pest who wanted a share in that which he was doing. Indeed, Honoria’s first memory of William was him telling her to go away because he was not going to give up what he had left to her. After several of such rebuffs, she developed a “thick skin” and would laugh off any such remarks even though she was hurt by them. As a consequence, she had very little to do with him. Her second brother, John, was her favourite brother, mostly because he let her tag along in his rambles, river fishing expeditions and taught her everything he knew. On hindsight, Honoria supposes that John took her under his wing because he at last had a sibling to play with and talk to. She surmises that William resented John as well for being “the spare” and a potential “usurper” to everything he was due to inherit. She never confirmed this hypothesis and saw no need to when she wasn’t close to William. Instead, she learnt to hunt, fish and ride from John and became very close to him. This continued for much of their childhood and into their adult lives.

Her parents, likewise, allowed her many liberties, as the youngest and sole girl in the family. She was allowed to learn everything the boys were taught, and would spend more time with her father in his library and whenever he talked to his men of business than with her mother in feminine activities. She had a governess, but aside from the languages and basic mathematics found the material she was taught insipid and mundane. She sped through her lessons (specifically the ones with nothing to do with sewing, music and other feminine arts/crafts) and found them no challenge. On seeing that she mastered these areas with ease, she tried escaping the boring lessons on the feminine arts. When her mother dragged her into her father’s study after finding her hiding from the governess with one of her brother’s books on basic philosophy, her father soon found that she absorbed the material and could answer his questions. She also answered the questions as to her reasons for escaping from her governess. On learning that she was bored with her lessons after mastering them, her father allowed her to be educated alongside the boys.

As an upshot, she is knowledgeable on politics and the ways of the world (to the point where talk of Cyprians and other courtesans did not faze her) as an adult, but is no dab hand at embroidery or sewing. She can hem up a piece of cloth into a handkerchief and she knows estate matters, household economy, but actual embroidery and other feminine hobbies are not her forte. She also values her freedom and independence, and refuses to marry because of it. Her mother (while still alive) believed the right man would change her, but Honoria simply dismissed the notion by saying she had to devote herself to her parents when William married (and established his own household) and John ran off with Florentia.

Owing to her closeness with her brother, John, she was aware of his preference for Florentia. Although she could foresee difficulties in the match because of Florentia’s social status, she did not think of the girl as a fortune hunter. A fortune hunter would have gone straight for any wealthy heir instead of a younger son who needed to make or find his own fortune, in her opinion. And because she believed Florentia was harmless in this sense, she was not opposed to the match. However, her parents were and John decided to elope. He told her of her and bade her keep it a secret for as long as she could. That she did, and also gave up some of her pin money to him so that they could comfortable. She bade him write to her when he was settled, but she received no letters to that effect. It was not until John’s death that she learnt the truth from William, viz., her parents had got to those letters before they were sent to her apartments in Everston Castle.

By then, bristling with indignation at both her parents and William, she resolved upon moving away from the family, setting up her household and being mistress of it. However, her family overruled her decision as she was only 21 at the time, and her mother still had hopes of her marrying. To the dismay of her mother and William (and his wife), she denied all suits for her hand. It did not matter to her that all her family (except her father) were aggrieved by her refusal to marry, for she did not have many suitors either.

The few suitors she had expected her to be a dutiful wife, but she valued her freedom and financial independence too much to marry. This did not mean she had never been in love. She had been in love once, though she never told the gentleman in question. Instead of talking to her parents about it, she went straight to her father’s man of business for advice as to that which happened to marriage portions, dowries and whatnot. She was horrified to learn that her husband would have control over her money, and was consequently turned off the idea. She congratulated herself on not telling her family about her tendre for the unnamed gentleman or the man himself, and from then on, resolved never to marry. Accordingly, this unwillingness to relinquish her financial independence prompted her to turn down any suitor. Though it was incomprehensible to almost everyone in her family, her father was more sanguine in the matter, reasoning that she could not be expected to marry anyone who wanted her to change for them when the men would obviously not change for anyone. To the chagrin and astonishment of the more prudish members of the ton, she remained friends with some of her rejected suitors and treated them as she would her brother, John. She deemed these gentlemen to be her friends for a number of reasons.

For one, she could be herself with them and they were individuals with whom she could share talk of everything under the sun. These male friends did not look sideways at her for talking of books, philosophy and politics; and they treated her as a thinking person rather than a woman. They did not think it odd of her that she does not pretend to be ignorant of the things they get up to (i.e. hard drinking, gaming, fancying courtesans and so on). Far from thinking her immodest, they have told her that it’s refreshingly frank of her and that she can provide an alternate perspective to their activities.

For another, she finds it difficult to get along with other women. As she is not quarrelsome, she attributes part of this to her upbringing and education. Not only does she sometimes find female conversation and interests in children, dresses, hairstyles, embroidery, habit of looking at men as “prizes” for themselves and/or their daughters, ordering good dinners, and so on dull and mundane; she also suspects they either find her similarly boring for not liking the things they did or that they cordially disliked her for lacking in the essential womanly skills. She also cannot abide the way that some women (in her observation) are two-faced – in front of men, they pretended to be helpless, ignorant, weak willed and shy; but in the company of women, they are the complete the opposite. She finds such behaviour repugnant and false, and she pities the men who are snared by such belles only to discover that the women they married can be hard of mouth towards them, the servants and other females.

This does not mean Honoria has no female friends. She has a few female friends whom she likes. A part of her thinks they likely regard her as a bluestocking or unconventionally amusing, but most females (generally speaking) and her only share a passing acquaintance where they acknowledge each other and are merely polite when their paths cross. As for rejected suitors who felt their pride were too injured to stay friends with her, she leaves them be. If their paths cross and they acknowledge her with a curt nod, she will return the civility. If they choose to ignore her when they encounter each other, she will pretend they are transparent as well. Should the women they married act smugly towards her for getting the “prize” of their spouses, she will only roll her eyes in the knowledge that they probably complain of these men’s faults and odd habits to their own friends. Given all this then, Honoria prefers the company of men.

Aside from the matter of the matter of her single state, she continues to dress in half mourning for her brother, John. She did try to seek out his wife, but her queries to her father and William met with only the answer that they had tried and were similarly unable to locate her. She secretly believes they never tried to look for her after John’s death.

It was only for the sake of both parents that she remained with them, for she was consciously they would be exposed to the on-dits should she establish her own household away from them. The chance for her to do so, however, came with her mother’s death in 1800. As soon as the funeral was over, William and his wife moved back in with their father. Seeing that this meant her father would be cared for by William and his wife, she sought her father’s permission to establish her own household in London. Permission was granted after many entreaties, along with three promises:
- she would spend a fortnight in Everston Castle annually
- she would live in the family’s townhouse, Bartram House, in 39, Berkeley Square (vacant because William and his wife had a snug house in Half Moon Street)
- she will go to Bath with her father every winter so as to spend time with him.

She agreed to those terms and has lived predominantly in London ever since. Every winter however, she removes herself to Bath to keep her father company, for he has taken to going there following the death of his wife.

Her relationship with her father had been initially good for much of her formative years. However, it soured when she was denied contact with her brother John during his misalliance. This, naturally, added to her wish to establish her own household away from the family. However, on the death of her mother and brothers, she was all her father had left and she reluctantly accepted that it was her duty to at least remain civil with him. He was still the head of the family, and she grudgingly admitted that he was an indulgent parent in her youth, took her side against her mother’s railing at her refusal to marry, and was responsible for giving her the education she had. Thus, she decided to be polite with him at the very least. In recent years, he has been getting a mite forgetful and she pities him to some extent. As a consequence, she tries to be a decent human being where he is concerned and maintain her ties with him

Since learning of the existence of John’s son from her father’s letters, she has been longing to clasp eyes on him to see how much of her brother is in him and because she wants to be better known to and better know this last remembrance of her dearest brother. Through her father’s missives on young John vis-à-vis the manner in which he appeared, the stories he shared proving his identity and the circumstances of his early life, Honoria is more than convinced that young John is her favourite brother’s life. In her opinion, the young fellow shares some of the late John’s characteristics. He must be quite a pleasant young man too, for her father to keep him for nearly a year at the family seat, and she is consequently quite eager to see him and perform her duties as an aunt by him. From her father’s reports of the young man, she is sure young John will be a favourite with her as her brother John had been with her. To her delight, this opinion proved correct when she received a missive from the young man himself. This letter, sent together her father’s note of invitation to stay at Everston Castle for a fortnight to meet the young man, was written on the encouragement of Lord Bartram. Much charmed by the letter for the fine hand and its writer’s excellent expression, she decided she had to meet the young John for herself. And thither she went. Overall, she likes him very much and has taken him under her wing. When her visit home concluded, they journeyed to London together and have been staying in Bartram House ever since.

Physical description

She is 153cm and considered tall, for she comes from a tall family. Possessed of intelligent hazel eyes that can turn cold in an instant when ticked off, Honoria also has dark hair that is naturally wavy. She is handsome, elegant and self-possessed rather than beautiful, thanks to her stature and trim figure. Although she is not a sybarite, she likes fine fabrics (albeit in sober colours) with embroidered hems and prefers tasteful, simple elegance to extravagant ostentation. Shawls are particular favourites of hers.

Personality

Well aware that her youth is over and that she would be regarded as an old maid who sees or knows too much without wanting to give anything away, she strives to age gracefully and believes in the “less is more” principle. Books are her solace, and as a voracious reader, she has quite a personal library. She is also fond of reading political pamphlets and satire, deeming them to be amusing works of half-truths and half-fiction. This, however, also masks her interest in politics and the going-ons of the day, especially in the ongoing Peninsular War, Anglo-Russian War and the Napoleonic Wars. She only discusses politics with old friends (as she terms her former suitors) when they seek her opinion. She views war as a waste of human lives and resources, disrupting trade and regular life. While she acknowledges it necessary to quell senseless megalomania (like Bonaparte’s), she has been vehemently opposed to the constant deployment of British troops to the Peninsular Wars. This is because she believes emphasis should be directed in containing Bonaparte, and because of the disgraceful way in which the HMS Franchise accidentally sank the ‘John and Jane’ carrying troops bound for the Peninsular.

Though she dresses in sober colours most of the time, she likes fine fabrics for the way they feel on her skin. She is no prude and capable of laughing at her own foibles and that of others. She is very seldom shocked, and when some of her former suitors confide in her as to their Cyprians, she is not scandalised. However, any talk that annoys her, such as slurs on her parents and her favourite brother’s misalliance or criticisms of her taste in books and dress will be met with a frosty set down. Following which, she will stiffly excuse herself from company, plainly telling them that they have given her a headache. This may appear snobbish to others, but she believes she has reached the age where she can do such things. In non-gossip matters where disagreements or misunderstandings occur, she is inclined to go directly to the person to talk things out. This is not done out of any overt love of confrontation, but from a wish that they would cordially put aside their differences of opinion. She believes that a quick burst of temper is better than letting it seethe. It is most injurious to ladies her age, and she has no desire to acquire unnecessary wrinkles before her time.

To her intimate friends, she is prone to ironic pronouncements and enjoys poking fun at both herself and others. However, she doesn’t suffer fools easily, especially those who believe in every little scrap of gossip they hear. She has an aversion for those sorts of people. Other than being a high-minded supporter of the arts (especially painting and the opera) and somewhat eccentric, Honoria enjoys driving her own barouche and/or gig at a reasonable pace. This is because of her fears for her horses than for herself. She cannot paint, but she likes viewing artwork. The opera is a love with her, for she is moved by music (though she does not play the harp as well as a lady should) and understands the modern languages. She is observant and often twitches her lips in amusement or raises an ironic brow at some of the things she sees. She likes talking to those who make time to talk to her, mostly because she is aware some of the ton will think she’s too outré and be no more than civil with her. In society, her manners are open and she may be deemed to be a tad flamboyant. But when a person talks to her one on one, she is discovered to be thoughtful and caring to the few whom she regards as her intimates.

While her siblings’ (even the cordially disliked William) deaths initially saddened her, for it meant that she was all her father had left and it rendered her the only Bartram of her generation left, she is delighted that the late John had issue and that this son had returned to the family fold. Not only did John produce a child, where William’s haughty belief in his right to inherit the title and estate left him with only stillborn children, Honoria is very tickled at the irony that John’s son is heir to the barony. On the one hand, it makes her smirk to think about it, for she believes that is William’s comeuppance for being insufferable. On the other, it pleases her beyond words that her favourite brother’s son has not only rejoined the family, but is heir to her family estate. Her delight stems from her belief that young John (as she had gleaned from her father’s letters) will be a fair landlord to his tenants, live within his income and be as progressive as her brother if he had lived.

Outside her books and interests in politics as well as the arts, she has taken to her role as aunt and gratified that she has her nephew for company. Ever since she returned to London with her nephew in tow, she has found him agreeable and considerate. She has told him that she can be irritable at times, especially after reading the gazettes and some pamphlets, and he should not think those instances of testiness are directed at him. She is herself with him and quite candid with him as she had been with her late brother John, and hopes he will grow used to her, her odd tempers and her ways. She is fond of cats too, preferring them to dogs, as she deems them more practical. Not only do they catch mice, they also remind her that it’s indicative of human nature – regardless as to how placid a person is, they always have claws to use when backed into a corner. She has tried to befriend her nephew’s cat, but she is as yet uncertain as to whether the creature has taken to her. Her nephew is a source of pride for her, due to his elegant tastes and intelligence. She might wish he was less obsessed with material goods, but she attributes this trait of his to his unfortunate early youth (as related to her in her father’s letters). In time, she hopes she will teach him by example that there is a difference between liking nice things and being obsessed by them. As an aunt, she is affectionate to him and is almost maternal towards him in that she is doing her best to launch him into society as she knows it, conversing with him on both household and societal matters to better acquaint herself with him so as to catch up on so many years of lost time, sharing her library with him and ensuring that he has his preferred hot beverage ready every morning. In other ways, she treats him like she would have her late brother John, by occasionally teasing him, and grasping his hands when pleased and when amused by something he said.

Interesting titbits

She likes cats.

Her favourite roan mare is named Berenike.

She prefers driving a gig to a phaeton.

Her lady's maid is named Walker.

Her butler is named Foster

One of her grooms is named Davis.

She loves shortbread.

She dislikes Aubrey Sayre, Lord Hunstanton, as she partially holds him responsible for her friend's death

Friends and Acquaintances

These are mostly fellow patrons of the arts, music/opera lovers, book and poetry lovers and so on. Her friends, living and deceased include:

Friends

Matilda Sayre née Montague, Lady Hunstanton (1769 - 1809, deceased), whom Honoria called and still thinks of as Mathilde

Oscar Moncrieff, Lord Avening

Lady Gwendolyn Moncrieff, sister of Avening.

Lucinda Ramsey, Lady Tinsdale

Acquaintances

Miss Eleanor Clare, Lord Avening's ward

Lady Sylvia Holmes (NPC), chaperone of the above and Lady Gwendolyn Moncrieff

Thorns in the Flesh

Aubrey Sayre, Lord Hunstanton

(will be updated as/when Honoria meets and gets to know other characters)

Threads

Wednesday, 8th May 1811
- An aesthetic solitary: Cosy chat with nephew, John[1]

Saturday, 11th May 1811
- Spinsters United: Talk with Lady Viola at the Middleton ball on the occasion of the marriage of Mr and Mrs Thomas Sterne[2]

Sunday, 12th May 1811
- Dieses Baums Blatt, der von Osten Meinem Garten anvertraut: Walking tête-à-tête with Lord Avening[3]

Monday, 13th May 1811
- Delivery from and to Avening House[4]

Tuesday, 14th May 1811 - Day
- In the room the women come and go...: Getting to know Lady Gwendolyn under the watchful eye of Lord Avening at the Turner Lecture at the Royal Academy[5]
- Pictures at an Exhibition: Meeting Miss Clare and Lady Sylvia, and rejoining nephew John with Lord Avening [6]
- A History of Violence: Running into Lord Hunstanton (husband of the late Mathilde) and his daughter, Eugenia[7]

Tuesday, 14th May 1811 - Ridotto
- Lost and Found: Encountering Miss Sybilla Grenfell and some of her family. Sybilla's hairpin is stolen by the Thief.[8]

Wednesday, 15th May 1811 - Morning
- An impromptu visit: Receiving Lady Gwendolyn when she drops by unexpectedly[9]

Wednesday, 15th May 1811 - Evening

Thursday, 16th May 1811 - Lady Olivia's coming out ball