Chapter Thirteen: Reflections

 It was now just a short time before the Somersets were to head to Bath. One day, Matthew found his daughter in the garden outside their house. Seeing her, he sighed, knowing that she was depressed over George's interest in the war. 

''Helena, dear,'' he began. ''My dear, sweet daughter. You must listen to me.''

He led the young woman into sitting on a stone bench behind their persons. Surrounded by the many flowers beneath their feet, there was no warmer place to discuss trivial affairs than here. 

''Helena,'' he began again, ''many officers are headed off to war. Another young gentleman, however, seeks such positions. George wishes to defend his country's honor.'' 

With tears in her eyes, the young woman faced her father. ''Is that all that he is defending?'' she asked. 

Matthew looked down. ''He feels the pressure of his fellow officers,'' he returned. ''He will do what he must. You can only pray for him now. I have talked to George. By Heaven, I have talked to him repeatedly for the last three days. I am certain that I cannot change his decision to go off to war. Neither can you.''

She looked away. No beaming sunlight could save her heart from the wounds that she felt from her brother marching off into harm's way. ''If that is how it must be,'' she regretted. 

''Yes, Helena, that is how it must be,'' he added. ''Like my young self, George is stubborn and brave. Thankfully, the latter attribute will aid him in a perilous time of war and peace.'' 

Both were left speechless. Rural England never felt more heavenly than when contrasted with the popululas war-driven Europe. The beauty of the glades and greenwood was no longer observable. Now, young men had to die. 

Helena began to weep. ''George is so young and brave,'' she added. ''He may be a man to his fellow officers, but to me, he will always be my younger brother.'' 

Matthew clasped his hands. His muscles felt tight as he considered the reality of his son being a young officer over enlisted troops more experienced than him. Unlike in the past, George was not prepared to lead in a time of simple peace. There are no higher expectations of any military officer to take command of an order of men than during war. 

Placing one hand on his daughter, Mr. Somerset thought about his two grown children. ''I wish that both of you were still younger,'' he spoke sadly. ''The world becomes far more complex through every following year that we live. Children dream of adventure, but the elderly live to see many occurrences that they wish they would not. Life is hardly all dreamy, Helena. There is romance in this world, but there is also darkness, death, and many depressed souls.'' 

Her father's words made her think about how much the world was changing fast. In times past, European wars generally extended only to the local frontiers of one's homeland---but now, the world was changing speedfully. Technology was impacting man's collaboration with one another in growing cities. Humanity was forsaking the farms for the metropolitan city. 

''There is satisfaction living in the countryside, away from the European War,'' he continued. ''Here, we are safe. I know George loves our homeland and our county as much as we do.''

''Then why leave it?'' she questioned. 

''Because men will leave even a peaceful world for the battlefield if drawing the bayonet is the only way to keep their homeland protected,'' he added. ''Peace does not protect itself, Helena. Sometimes, even gentleman must wear red to preserve our English heritage from the dominion of the enemy.'' 

She considered her father's words again, considering them to be wise and profound. 

''George may leave soon, my dear,'' he added. ''One does not have to agree with the views of our loved ones to nevertheless support their endeavor. I know George means well. We ought to be proud of his decision now---we cannot change his view.'' 

''Perhaps you are right,'' she conceded. ''Still, I do not want my brother in danger.''

''Neither do I. But I think George would rather be wounded in battle by fulfilling his conscience than left wounded on his soul. Think of that. Yes, perhaps his fellow gentleman have talked him into war and persuaded him to go---but I think George has long felt the urge to defend those of his homeland. The latter desire is certainly worthy of our respect. Do you agree?''

She nodded with tears. Her father wiped them. 

''Come, my sweet angel,'' he praised. ''Let us commend George for his desire to join the Royal Army.''

Mr. Somersert lifted his daughter from the bench. She then followed him into the fields, where they met George and Mrs. Somerset. All embraced, and the women cried. Turning to his sister, George spoke, ''Pray for me, sister,'' he urged. ''I must defend England's honor against the claims of an arrogant French emperor.'' 

Helena nodded. ''I will, George,'' she replied. ''I will. Stay out of the line of fire.'' 

Feeling hurt that he would soon depart from England's shores, Helena dreaded the day that she knew would follow. For many years, she and her brother had been each other's closest friends. They were as inseparable as anyone that she had ever heard about. But George seemed to be pulling away from her---having never done this until the past two years. She felt troubled again, troubled that he would not only sail into a world of danger but felt afraid should he not return. 

*     *      *

Two weeks later, many were present for another party at the Somerset's home, though it was far less casual than the prior one. George, having enlisted as an officer in the English army, was championed as a hero by all surrounding him. Dressed in a bright red uniform, he felt ensured that today was the day of his calling to serve as a soldier in the king's service. 

George smiled to all, yet his heart felt more afraid than he tried to outwardly display. He was not ready to leave the peaceful region of Yorkshire. No amount of connections or letters from his father or other acquaintances, which had helped stabilize his position as a lieutenant, was enough to prepare him for the line of fire. Though Chamberlain Estates held a party in his honor, he was as little rejoiceful as was his sister. The longer the evening went on, the more doubtful he was of his coming mission. 

''Live on for England, die for justice,'' one officer urged. 

''Thank you,'' George simply returned, though hoping that he would return alive. 

Helena was not fond of the speech. Why must there be any suggestion of her brother dying? Was his going to war not enough? 

Matthew gripped his son's shoulder and whispered to him while all else talked. ''Your ship remains at the coast, my son,'' he said. ''Thankfully, you enter the last stage of the war. I pray the French are defeated soon.'' 

George nodded. ''I do, too,'' he replied, dreading the thought of a bloody battlefield. 

By the time the Sommersets journeyed to the local seaport to see George join his fellow officers before he headed to the continent, Helena thought of the younger brother who once teased her long ago. There were no more plays to enjoy now. There was no mention of Shakespeare or parties. War was the topic of all current discussions. Now, the Somerset siblings, who had long loved one another, had to separate during the tumultuous time of war and peace.