Memories

Chapter I

_S_a____^ earliest recollections are of a great, _Sa_I ( l°nc'y farmhouse, with a good-natured ____._! farmer an(j his wife — a kind, motherly woman, who took care of me and spared no trouble over her charge. Fortunately, I was strong and healthy, and the out-of-door life I led, and the absence of the luxuries of an arti ficial refinement — though of needful home comforts there was no lack — helped to make me robust. Everyone was kind to me. Even the farm lads, if they were somewhat rough and ready in their efforts to make me manly, took great care that I should come to no harm ; and torn clothes and an occasional cut or bruise were the extent of my misadventures. On Sundays and great feasts we went to Mass MEMORIES in a heavy jolting cart, for the church was some miles distant ; and about once a month the old priest would come over to the farm on his rough brown pony, to hear how good Mrs. Drewe's instruction in the Catechism had been retained by me, and to give me a picture or medal as a reward.

Mrs. Drewe taught me to read, and in the evenings the old farmer would make me bring a copy-book and learn sums and writing, while he smoked his pipe in the chimney corner. Sometimes — but that was very seldom — my mother came to see me, and truly those rare visits were like those of an angel, for I thought there could be no one so good or so beautiful in the whole world. Scarcely above the middle height, and with a slight, graceful figure, she looked little more than a girl, but her sweet, sad face was full of a patient sorrow. She never spoke of my father, so I thought he must be dead, but did not like to ask her, because she looked so sad ; and Mrs. Drewe, whom I questioned, would tell me nothing, but only said I must never worry my mother with such in quiries. Then came a day when my mother arrived — unexpectedly as far as I was concerned — and took me away from the farm, for good Mrs. Drewe was MEMORIES 7 dead, and the old farmer had a son coming from Australia to help him with the work, and the son's wife would keep his house.

My mother and I travelled a great many miles till we drew near the sea. Then at a little station we got out, and my mother, telling one of the porters to take my box on to the Presbytery, led me along a winding country lane full of the fragrance of early spring, while she explained to me that we were going to see a good priest who took a few pupils, but that she much feared he would think me too young. I was then not quite nine, and I felt a little depressed and lonely with the fear of an unknown experience before me, but I could not bear to see my mother look anxious. ' Mother,' I said as brightly as I could, ' I am quite tall and big, and the Father will think me ever so much older. And as to the other boys, I shall not care a bit for them. Dick taught me to box, and Tom taught me to ride, and Barnett showed me how to singe the pony.' My mother smiled, and as she stooped down to kiss me, she said : ' I am sure my Wilfrid will be good and brave, and I will come when I can, but it may not be often.

Now, dear, here is the Presbytery — say a Hail Mary that I may not be disappointed.' I looked up and saw a little village church MEMORIES with a low slated tower, and adjoining it was a house, which I concluded was the priest's. My mother rang the bell, and on gaining admittance we were shown into a small parlour very plainly furnished. We did not wait long before the priest came in. He was a man about six-and thirty, not handsome, but with a benevolent face and a kindly manner that won my heart. He looked rather doubtfully at me, observing that I was very young, and that the three lads he had were very much my seniors. Then he called his sister, some two or three years older than himself, who surveyed me with an amused air, and looked at my mother with tender womanly sympathy. I gazed with much awe at Mademoiselle Renee — she was so unlike anyone I had ever seen before.

She was dark, short, and very thin, with sharp-cut features and sparkling black eyes that nothing could escape, and that seemed to look you through and through. Her jet-black hair was drawn back from her forehead in what I thought a strange foreign fashion, and over it she wore a piece of black lace fastened under the chin. Her dress was black, with spotless linen collar and cuffs, which I afterwards noticed were exchanged for lace — handsome old lace — at dinner-time. MEMORIES 9 Father Jean-Marie and Mademoiselle Renee de la Marche were of an old Breton family that had suffered much in the days of the Revolution. He had been educated in England, and spoke English perfectly; but his sister preferred her native tongue, and defended her aversion to learn the language of her adopted country by saying that she thus helped to keep up her brother's good accent, and also to accustom his pupils to speak and understand French.

After some conversation, which I did not understand, Mademoiselle decided the question of my remaining at the Presbytery, so my mother told me as she parted from me with many tears. I fairly broke down myself, but Mademoiselle kept me in her own little room and consoled me with coffee and biscuits till the traces of my weakness were gone, and I could face my future companions when they came in to dinner. They certainly did look very big and manly — even Heriot, who was but twelve, was as tall as Made moiselle Ren^e, while Dalton and Tregonning, who were respectively fourteen and thirteen, were giants compared to me. They laughed and stared when I was intro duced, but I, who had been used to scarcely anyone but farm boys, thought their manners MEMORIES exquisite, and felt nervous lest I should commit any breach of etiquette.

Babette, a stout, good-humoured-looking Bre tonne, waited at table, looking as neat and trim as if she had not just come from cooking the dinner. We had good English fare, but I found out afterwards that Mademoiselle Renee herself superintended the soup and omelette in which she and her brother indulged, and left Babette to attend to the 'rosbif and ' bifstek,' which she had learnt to cook a I'Anglaise in deference to the taste of youthful Britons. After dinner Mademoiselle Renee carried me off to examine the contents of my box, and I con sidered that I had then my first lesson in French, since she held up each garment as she took it out, and made me repeat after her its Gallic name, with many a laugh at my English accent. Then she took me over the Presbytery, and afterwards through a narrow passage that led to the church, where, after kneeling by me for a few minutes before the altar, she made me a sign to come out. ' You shall be here,' she said, ' for de prayer of de night, but now it is de recreation.' The passage was rather dark, and I was following Mademoiselle, when something large and very black sprang out upon me, and to save MEMORIES 11 myself from falling I clasped the monster, what ever it might be, round the neck, and felt a soft warm tongue licking my face. ' Ah, c'est Achille,' exclaimed Mademoiselle. ' So you lof de dogue ?

C'est bien. Achille is not.feroce, but he like vat you call tricks. When he first come, I walk along — I was not thinking, and sudden I receive him in de back !' The great black dog was friendly enough with me, and made great demonstrations of delight when Mademoiselle patted his head. She then observed that no doubt by that time ' ces mes sieurs ' had finished preparing their lessons for the next day, and that I had better make friends with them during their recreation, while she went to look after Monsieur l'Abbe\ She took me downstairs again, knocked at a door on the right, which I entered, and was greeted with a loud shout of: ' Hulloa ! here's Baby ! Come along, Babs !' Dalton sprang up and dragged me to the table ; I felt very indignant at this style of greeting, and was going to resent it loudly, when I remembered a piece of advice which old Farmer Drewe had repeatedly given me : ' Keep a quiet tongue in your head, Master Wilfrid, and you will not offend God nor man.' And as I thought he was one of the best and wisest men I had MEMORIES 12 ever known, I resolved to put his words into practice now, and kept silent. • Baby indeed !' remarked Tregonning, ' we shall be having an infant school soon, with Mamselle for mistress.' ' And you for dux,' returned Dalton. ' Now, Baby, the first thing a new chap has to go through is an examination.

Up with you on to the chair ! How far have you got ? Can you read ? Write ? Sum ?' ' Yes.' * Sum !' exclaimed Tregonning, ' then the little chap shall do mine.' ' What, haven't you got beyond simple division yet ?' I asked in astonishment. ' That's a hit for you, Steenie,' said Dalton. ' Now, Baby, sing us a song.' I did not hesitate, for I was not afraid of that young giant with the merry blue eyes, and I had heard it said that giants — ordinary human ones, not ogres or trolls — were generally good natured. I had sung one verse, when Dalton shouted : ' That's too low ; sing higher, ever so much higher.' I was going to protest that it was impossible, when Heriot, who was standing behind Dalton's chair, stared at me so markedly that my attention MEMORIES 13 was attracted, and I noticed an almost imper ceptible movement of his fingers.

I understood at once, and made one leap from the chair on to the table. Tregonning said, ' Hulloa !' with a look of astonishment, and Dalton laughed as he ob served : ' You'll come to a bad end, Babs, if you're so sharp at your time of life.' But I was sure he knew it was Heriot, for he turned round and pulled his ear as he whispered : 1 You base traitor !' ' Well, this is the most impudent little chap that ever came to Trenmawr,' resumed Dalton, ' but what do you fellows say ? I suppose we may consider he has passed ?' Heriot said ' Yes ' ; but Tregonning looked doubtful, and observed : ' There are mathematics- ' What a duffer you are ! Babs is too young for that. Let the little kid ' The door suddenly opened, and Mademoiselle Ren6e appeared. ' Fi done, Monsieur Dalton, 'ave I not say I vil not such language ; vot you call keed, it is vulgaire, and to de leetle one just come!' ' He may possibly have heard it before,' said Dalton, laughing ; ' but call me John, Mademoi- MEMORIES selle, call me John, and I'll say or do anything you like.' Mademoiselle Rente's sternness relaxed. 1 Eh bien, Monsieur Jean, soyez sage et ne dites par des betises.

Monsieur l'Abbe" regret he could not come, he is called to a pauvre malade.' ' Oh then, Mamselle, stay with us !' exclaimed Heriot, as he flew to get a chair, while Tregonning said eagerly, ' Restez, restez.' And in an instant the boys had established Mademoiselle in a chair, put a cushion for her feet, and were clamouring loudly for a Breton legend. 'And I'll make a free-and-easy translation for the benefit of the little Moreton, I mean,' said Dalton, as he seated himself on the hearth rug. I could not tell whether he was a faithful interpreter, but it was very interesting; and thus my first evening in the Presbytery passed pleasantly enough.

Chapter II

H'tfvgjY first Sunday at Trenmawr was full of u __3 I. distractions ; everything was so new to me that I could do nothing but look about and wonder. Mademoiselle Renee took me under her charge in church, and I sat with her in the transept, close to the organ. It was not a large one, but very good and complete of its kind, and the player, a small, quiet-mannered girl, very plainly dressed, had perfect command of the instrument. One felt at once the touch of the master-hand, and that she and the organ were dear and intimate friends. I had never heard a sung Mass, or much music of any kind, in my life, and I thought it was like heaven on earth. The proper of the Mass was not attempted, but the ordinary was sung to plain chant, correct and brisk, if rather rough. The choir was placed on benches close to the sanctuary, and numbered about sixteen or eighteen MEMORIES voices.

The members considered themselves very select, as having to be chosen from village farmers or tradesmen — the only men who were not absent fishing eight months out of every twelve. I saw Heriot among some of the boys who were too young or too weakly to go out to sea with their fathers or brothers, but Dalton and Tregonning were in the sanctuary, serving the Father's Mass. In the evening, before Benediction, I was seized upon by Dalton and dragged into the sacristy, vested in cassock and cotta, and the incense-boat put into my hand. Tregonning pioneered me about, so that I should have felt very important had I not met with a terrible fright. He went into the sacristy to fetch some thing that was wanted, and thrust the censer hurriedly into my hands. The chains got them selves twisted in a most aggravating manner, and some of the burning coals fell out on the carpet.

Heriot picked them up in an instant, and so no harm was done, but I was very thankful when Tregonning came back. However, my admiration for Mademoiselle Ren^e, who seemed to possess a kind of universal knowledge, was greatly increased by the fact that she gave me lessons in censer swinging, so MEMORIES 17 that by the end of the week I could manage it as deftly as Tregonning himself. I very soon felt quite at home in the Presbytery, and experienced no dulness or undue restraint. We were like a happy united family ; the Father was the meekest and mildest of men, but his rule was not weak, and a word from him was sufficient for any of us. Mademoiselle was really the governing power, but in spite of her quick temper and sharp tongue we were all devoted to her, and she was the unfailing resource in all difficulties and scrapes, about which it was always our anxiety that the Father should not be troubled.

She scolded, but she always helped. When Heriot got into a dreadful row with old Penrhyn at Upland Farm for opening the gates and letting the cattle stray all over the place, it was Made moiselle Renee who herself took the boy to the irate farmer and made him beg pardon ; she calmed the storm so effectually that Penrhyn, observing that boys will be boys, acknowledged that he did not wish to trouble his reverence about the doings of any of his young gentlemen, who were, on the whole, very well behaved ; and as to even that dog Ashhill, why, he never hunted anything that ought not to be hunted. So if Master Heriot promised not to play such a prank again, he'd MEMORIES shake hands with him, and there would be an end of it. Heriot told me this himself — in fact, he told me most things. He had been junior so long that he was delighted to have someone younger, and patronized me accordingly.

Before I had been a week at Trenmawr I knew everything about everybody. Heriot informed me that Dalton had lots and lots of money, that he would be awfully rich when he grew up ; but he had a cross old bachelor uncle for a guardian, who hated fellows about his place, and only had him on a week's visit once in the year ; that the reason why Dalton called Heriot ' Jingling Geordie,' and regretted that my name was Wilfrid, was really on account of his great admiration for Sir Walter Scott's works, one of which Heriot solemnly assured me Dalton always kept under his pillow. Tregonning's name was really Steenie, and I might have been Baby Charles. Heriot said also that Tregonning's father was in Parliament, and his mother was a gay worldly woman, and they neither of them cared much for Tregonning, because he was not clever ; that Heriot's own father was a General, and not very well off — that he had no mother, and meant to be a soldier when he grew up.

Then I had the history of Father de la Marche, and how, when Mademoiselle had come over to MEMORIES 19 keep house for him as soon as it was settled that he should take pupils, Babette had insisted on coming over too, and said she would rather do without wages than leave Monsieur Jean-Marie and Mademoiselle Renee in a strange land with no one of their own nation to look after them. The Father had remonstrated about having too French a household, but had been overruled by the two feminine wills ; and when he meekly suggested that the dog, at least, might have had an English name, Mademoiselle Renee said decidedly that it was best for everyone's interest that Achille should understand both languages. St. Perran's was the nearest town to Tren mawr, and Mademoiselle Renee made periodical excursions thither for shopping.

As I had fewer lessons to get through than the other pupils, she often took me with her, and on our return we invariably found an escort waiting at the station to accompany her home and carry her parcels, with Achille proudly stalking on in front with whatever packet might safely be intrusted to him. I always thought that ' ce bon Monsieur Jean,' as Mademoiselle called Dalton, was her favourite, but I think that Heriot also, in spite of all his mischievous tricks and high spirits, had no small share in her affection. He was an incorrigible 2 — MEMORIES 20 mimic, and could never resist imitating the pecu liarities of anyone. ' Now, Baby,' he exclaimed one rainy afternoon when out-of-door amusements were impracticable and we were sitting round the table enjoying some coffee and bread-and-butter, which Tregon ning, who was always hungry, had begged for himself and us — ' now, Baby, you shall see me do Mademoiselle, and I will give her most graphic and correct delineation of the characters of our beloved countrymen and countrywomen.' So saying, he began tying under his chin a black lace coiffure of Mademoiselle's, of which at some time he must have surreptitiously possessed himself.

Heriot was a dark-haired, bright-eyed lad, and he contrived to make himself ridicu lously like Mademoiselle Renee ; and as he mounted on a chair and began his speech, his high-pitched tone was an excellent imitation. ' You vish to know vat is like Monsieur Jean Boule ? Eh bien, I vill tell you — he is vair proud — tres desagreable, but 'e 'ave one good 'eart — 'e grumble and grumble, and den 'e put de 'and in de poche and gif you vat you ask, and 'e swear if you try to say tank you. And Madame Jeanne Boule — ah, she is vair proud too, and vair gauche, but not desagreable like Monsieur ; and she 'ave de 'eart of a moder, and MEMORIES 21 is vair charitable. And de Mees Jeanne Boule, dey are a leetle gauche, but modeste and wid moche sense ; it is true dey 'old demself like de pokair, mais elles sont tres gentilles, wid de com plection white and red, fraiche comme la rose.

Et les jeunes Messieurs Jean Boule sont tres gauches, and for de 'and dey nevair can place dem. If dey 'ave not wid dem de chapeau, pour faire contenance — no, dey cannot tell vat dey must do wid de 'and. Per'aps dey place von in de poche, and de oder behind dem ! Ah ! c'est atroce ! Mais ce n'est rien que la mauvaise honte — vat you call shy. Dey are good also — dey 'ave good 'earts. Dey vill 'old de chapeau on deir 'ead ven dey speak to you, mais que voulez-vous, dey weel gif demselves moch pain to do you von leetle service. Eh, oui, I lof also les jeunes Messieurs Jean Boule — dey are brusques, mais dey are sinceres !' Dalton and Tregonning were laughing till the tears ran down their faces, and I was joining in the merriment very heartily, when, as Heriot was skipping off the chair, it slipped from under his feet, and he, clutching at the table - cover, brought down some of the coffee-cups, and finally lay on his back on the floor. ' Hold hard with the leg of the table,' shouted Dalton, * and consider the crockery !' MEMORIES ' Eh bien, messieurs ! qu'est-ce-que-c'est que tout ce fracas ?' asked Mademoiselle Renee sharply.

Our shouts of laughter had prevented our hearing her footsteps or the opening of the door. Heriot scrambled up into a sitting posture, and the sight of him seated on the floor, with the black lace coiffure still on his head, sent Tregon ning into fresh convulsions of laughter ; but Dalton, composing his face, said calmly : ' Only a little accident, Mademoiselle ; nothing is broken.' Heriot suddenly remembered the coiffure, and tried to snatch it off, but the knot under his chin got obstinately tightened. At last, with a des perate effort, he tore it off and thrust it into his pocket, growing redder every minute, as he felt Mademoiselle's sharp eyes fixed upon him. ' It is because of your singeries, sans doute ; I veel send Babette to arrange dees bouleversement. I come only to bring dees letter for Monsieur Etienne.' Tregonning took the letter with a bow; he could not trust himself to speak for suppressed laughter.

I ran to the door to hold it open for Mademoiselle as she passed out rather hurriedly, but as I looked up into her face I was sure I saw the corners of her mouth relaxing suspiciously. When she was safely out of hearing, there was MEMORIES 23 another general explosion of laughter, and when it had a little subsided, Dalton observed : ' That was a close shave for you, Jingling Geordie ; she saw it all at a glance.' ' Oh,' said Tregonning, ' I thought it would be the death of me. You did look such an ass sitting on the floor with that gimcrack on your head, and staring as if you were daft' ' And she never said a word !' exclaimed Heriot admiringly ; ' really it makes a fellow feel as if he must say he would never do it any more. Made moiselle is a brick, and no mistake ! Halloa ! here she is again !' But it was Babette this time, with a dish of sweet biscuits just out of the oven, and a jug of hot coffee. ' Mademoiselle Renee send her compliments to de jeunes messieurs, and she tink dey are a peu tristes to have renverse la cafetiere.

Tenez done, Monsieur Dalton, I veel set it all to de right.' Babette refilled the coffee-pot, pulled the table cover straight, and rubbed the carpet vigorously. ' Well, it is jolly of Mademoiselle !' exclaimed Dalton. ' Mind you tell her, Babette, that we all thank her ever so much, and we won't upset anything more. You understand, Babette — mille remerciments.' MEMORIES 24 ' I sa}', Dalton,' said Heriot, as Babette, nod ding and smiling, closed the door, ' this is returning good for evil with a vengeance. I believe I shall have to make a vow never to take off Mamselle again.' ' I wouldn't do that, Geordie,' said Dalton, ' unless I felt pretty sure of keeping it.' ' I might possibly manage, for, after all, it's a talent that won't be of much use — I suppose the General would never let me go on the stage.

Here, hand over the cakes, Dalton, and fill up my cup ; I feel quite exhausted with the varying emotions of the last half-hour.' Tregonning had been sitting with a meditative expression on his face since Babette's departure, and now observed : ' " Un peu triste " — that sounds rather — rather what d'ye call it, doesn't it ?' ' Sarcastic,' suggested Dalton. ' Yes, rather.' ' We can very well swallow it, I suppose ?' observed Heriot. Dalton threw a cake across the table at him, saying : ' A fellow who makes puns deserves to be hanged. I rather think somebody celebrated once said that before my time.' Then, putting on a severe look, he turned to me, saying : MEMORIES 25 ' Now, Baby, I'm going to give your infant mind a salutary warning. If we fellows like to have a bit of fun, mind you, we never allow an impertinent word about Mademoiselle, or to Mademoiselle, and if I ever caught you at such a thing, you would be kicked into the middle of next week and the week after.' ' Upon my honour, Dalton,' I answered very earnestly, ' I never would do such a thing.' Dalton looked at me for a moment with that keen look which sometimes came into his merry blue eyes ; then he said : ' Yes, I believe you are a little chap of the right sort, though you are an awfully saucy one. Here, Steenie, is a chance for you — the last cake in the dish.' ' " Barkis is willin'," ' answered Tregonning ; and the cake was gone in a trice.

Chapter III

jgc*58|] HAD hitherto been always interested and Bw p| delighted with my new acquaintance — p"TC^m) the sea — and all the excitement of seeing the boats go out, but I had never realized the dark side of the picture : the storms, the danger, the fears of the poor wives and mothers at home, and the little ones who were rendered fatherless by the cruel waves. Even Terry Morgan's tales, which we were ever ready to hear, did not make me thoroughly realize the facts of the case. Terry Morgan was a weather-beaten old fisher man, with grizzly hair and beard and deep-set gray eyes twinkling with humour. Our fellows were great favourites of his, and the Father never allowed us to go out in any boat or under any guardianship save Terry's. His sons and grand sons were fishermen, but he seldom joined them now ; his chief occupation was taking us or any MEMORIES 27 chance visitors out for a row, mending his sons' nets, and telling long yarns while we were seated round the edge of his boat.

One fine day in May, when the boats were out, the sky towards evening became dull and gray, and wild clouds were scudding along the horizon. The Father and Dalton were standing by the window, looking out into the distance, and I heard the former say : ' I fear a gale is blowing up.' ' Yes, a pretty stiff one,' answered Dalton ; but I heard no more, for Babette pounced upon me saying it was bedtime, and Mademoiselle Renee was very strict about punctuality ; she would rarely let me sit up with the elder fellows. No wonder Dalton called me Baby. However, I meant to keep awake and listen for the rising gale, but I listened and listened until, somehow or other, I fell asleep. How long I slept, I know not, but I was suddenly wakened by the howling of the wind and the sound of footsteps passing my door.

I sat up in bed, but I could see nothing through the pitch darkness. The wind was terrible, and seemed to shake the house to its foundations. I felt sure I had heard the Father's voice, and that it was Dalton who answered him. I had heard both from Heriot and the folks in the village that, MEMORIES whenever there was danger or trouble, the Father was sure to be in the midst of his flock ; so perhaps they were going down to the beach. Presently the door opened and Mademoiselle Renee came in. She had either never been to rest, or had dressed hastily, for she was in her ordinary costume. She put down her lamp on the chest of drawers and said kindly : ' Pauvre petit, you have fear?' ' A little, Mademoiselle,' I said ; ' I never heard such a storm. I think the roof will be torn off, or the house come down.' Mademoiselle Ren£e looked pale and anxious, but she replied : ' No, not de 'ouse, it stand many bad storm ; mais pour les pauvres pecheurs — Mon Dieu, ayez piti6 pour eux !