Satis House

Keeping with my Dickens theme, my house of the month is a literary one: Miss Havisham’s Satis House, from the Dickens novel Great Expectations.

Background

Satis House is a great house that Mr. Havisham built in 1760s. Beside it is his brewery, his “hobby” since, of course, fine gentlemen of that era did not dilly-dally in trade.

A high wall shelters Satis House from the street. But between the spokes of the iron gates, onlookers catch a glimpse of the front court, the grand entrance, and the main body of the malt-house, with its tall chimney.

At the time of the story, however, tall grass is growing between the paving stones; chains guard the front door; the brewery is in ruins; the house is shuttered and swallowed up by ivy.

All illustrations courtesy: Literary Houses–Ten Famous Houses in Fiction, by Rosalind Ashe

But is Satis House entirely deserted? No, there is a thin ribbon of smoke rising from the chimney.

Inside is Miss Havisham, Mr. Havisham’s only daughter. She’s been there for thirty years, in self-chosen isolation, all devoted to revenge.

And yet, she is still rich and powerful.

Vistors

Few visit, only her lawyer and inheritance-seeking relatives, who, after ringing the bell, are escorted inside through a side door. By candlelight they’re led along a stone passageway, and across another courtyard, where they wait for Miss Havisham’s call.

Back inside the great house they enter, ascending a darkened and closed off staircase. Upon reaching the landing, they notice a wheelchair, and under a closed door, they see a sliver of light.

Miss Havisham’s Room

When they enter Miss Havisham’s room, her cousins discover it is vast and fully-furnished. But it is messy. Fine gowns, bonnets and shawls–all a full generation out of style–are flung about the room. The only movement comes from the flickering of the coals burning in the fire. Even the flames of the candles are motionless. The clock on the mantle is silent, the hands stopped at twenty minutes to nine. A bouquet of dead flowers rest, with unopened brown buds, alongside a satin shoe, which has never touched the ground.

The room is a picture of halted life.

Sitting beside the fire, veiled, covered in jewels, and wearing a tattered wedding dress, is Miss Havisham. She’s not as old as all the townspeople have made her out to be; she’s still in her forties. But she’s fragile, with streaks of white beginning to show in her hair.

She’s too busy watching the two youth in her room to pay much attention to her guests. There’s Estella, her young and beautiful ward, and Pip.

They are playing cards.

And falling in love.

Miss Havisham’s eyes brighten while she watches them. Whatever is she planning?

She calls to Pip, and he helps her into the wicker wheelchair waiting on the landing. Down the corridor he pushes her, towards the Banqueting Hall, the finest room in the house.

Once inside, Miss Havisham recalls how it looked on that morning, filled with sunlight and bustling movement, the servants setting the table for the wedding breakfast, a tiered cake in the center.

But now it looks rather different.

In the grate is a struggling fire while heavy curtains, lining the windows, block out the daylight. The only sound, mice and the creak of her wheelchair.

Through a dim light the table is revealed. A wedding cake, and candles, are covered with cobwebs and a pale fungus.

You’ll have to read Great Expectations, if you have not yet had the pleasure of doing so, to learn of Miss Havisham’s tragedy, as well as her plans for the young lovers.

Now that I think about it, there is another book, this one more recent, which I believe might have been influenced by Great Expectations, since an abandoned wedding is central to its plot.

Allow me to share with you The Distant Hours, by Kate Morton. I absolutely adore this author. In fact, if one day I can pull off writing a book like her, well then, that’s all I could ever want in life.

The novel is structured with a dual timeline, similar to my own novel-in-progress, as it moves back and forth between modern-day London and historical London in the 1940s.

The novel’s protagonist is Edith Burchill. She receives a long-lost letter, and it sends her to Milderhurst Castle, where she finds the aging Blythe sisters: Juniper, the youngest, who has not been the same since her fiancé abandoned her, and Juniper’s older sisters, twins Percy and Saffy.

While at Milderhurst, Edith learns of her mother’s hidden past, as well as other secrets buried within the castle, and ends up discovering more than she had bargained for.

The novel’s themes are centered around a love of books, the relationships between mothers and daughters, as well as between sisters.

Truly, it is a fantastic read to curl up with beside a warm fire during these dark winter nights; one you’ll really want to wallow in. Savor. And if you’re anything like me, and you love the work of the Bronte sisters, as well as a dark and gothic tale, you’ll really enjoy this one.

Now, as for that Great Expectations feel, here’s a little excerpt from The Distant Hours:

“I saw her then, Juniper Blythe, as she stepped from the chill darkness and slowly crossed the corridor towards me…Her dress was incredible, the sort you expect to see in films about wealthy debutantes before the war, or hidden on the racks of up-market charity shops. It was organza, the palest of pink, or it had been once, before time and grime had got busy, laying their fingers all over it.

For more posts about other famous literary houses, click: Thornfield Hall from Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre and The House of the Seven Gables from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel of the same name, and Merlyn’s Cottage and The Castle of the Forest Sauvage from British mythology.