The queen of the county

Front matter

THE

ROBERT W WDDDRUFF LIBRARY

Family Medicines for Simple Ailments.

Contents

CHATTER

I. EARLIEST RECOLLECTIONS .

II. PLAYS AND PASTIMES III. A WALK IN CHILDHOOD IV. AN EPISODE ....

Chapter I. Earliest Recollections

I X my father's nursery were born twelve little girls. Two wen* early home. The other ten grew up, and fulfilled their several duties, we will hope, to the best of their ability. Alas ! judging by myself, the second living, the fourth in order of birth, I look to that nursery, and mourn that through my long life I have done so little. Is this the natural feeling of age that it should be full of regrets ? — regrets for lost opoortunities? — for moments wasted? — for gifts neglected ? — for warnings unheeded? 'Tis well that we have an old age to gather up the remembrance of all the undone things of our lives, that we may repent ere we die ; 'tis well to soften the asperity of waning life by recalling the follies of our own youth.

Our nursery formed a part of an old-fashioned rectory, down in the north of England.

The day nursery looked into the world ; it was a square room, with two windows on one side, two high chests of drawers on another, in which we had each an individual right to a large and a small drawer ; a long table on the third side, and a wide, old-fashioned, Dutch-tiled fire-place on the fourth. The bars of the grate came out in a curve, bright as silver, and two substantial hobs gave a dignity and breadth to the fire-place. It was one of our childish delights to see the nurserymaid do up the fire. First the ashes were all raked out of the bottom bar, then all the bars were swept, and the nobs — " them nobs " (as Bell called them) — of coals, shining black nobs — were piled on in a most artistic manner, and sputtered out at once into little merry blazes. Then Bell swept out the hearth, with a vigour and a routing that left not an atom of dust or ashes in the remotest corner. Why Bell never burnt her red arms, or why they never frizzed, as we had seen legs of mutton fiz in the kitchen, was always a wonder to us. She was reckless in her manner of doing up that fire, for if a red-hot cinder dared to fall after she had swept up the hearth, she coolly took it up in her fingers and tossed it back. The toss seemed occasioned more because it had fallen at an unpropitious moment, than because it was hot. We concluded, as soon ^s> we were old enough to read of them, that Bell was born a Salamander ; though what a Salamander really meant we were at a loss to determine. But to return to the fire.

After Bell had sifted out the largest ashes, and banked them up behind the nobs, where they soon sent out a ruddy glow, she proceeded to perform what we considered the most interesting part of the whole ceremony. She went to the cupboard, and brought out an old pipkin, generally much chipped and ill-used ; within this was some lumpish grey stuff, half liquid, half solid, with a disreputable bit of old carpet, old mat, old flannel, remnants of our old cloaks, in fact anything that no one else would touch — Bell proceeded to saturate the hearth, to dab those places vacated by a Dutch tile, to flop the two nobs, and apparently make a most hideous mess of the whole thing. Then came our pleasure — we crowded round to see. First appeared in the sea of slush a little snowwhite island, then another — these joined — a dozen more — suddenly, as if by magic, the hearth, the nobs, the Dutch tile vacuums shone out white as sugar, pure as snow. While this metamorphosis ensued, Bell, with another piece of objectionable cloth, had wrenched the. fire-irons, each in its turn, round and round; then, as if they were desperately wicked, she flung them into their usual corners, with a violence that seemed to declare she would have nothing more to do with them. Finally she threw herself on to the high nursery fender, and polishing the brass rim, with apparently her whole body, she thrust it into its place, with a vehemence that seemed to say, " Stir, if ye dar." So restricting as regarded us, the great nursery fender was helpless in the hands of Bell.

On one side of the fireplace hung an instrument of dire import to us — namely, the " taws. The taws consisted of a long piece of leather, cut into six smaller strips. Some of us were more intimately acquainted with the taws than we liked ; they were very handy for nurse's use, and nurse's temper was equally ready to avail herself of them. We regarded this side of the fireplace with dislike, but the other with awe ; for there was a closet or recess on that side, wherein was a blocked-up window— light was taxed in those days— also a great cupboard, in which was kept all the nursery crockery and stores, with a place at the bottom for coals and sticks.

In the daytime we had no fear of this recess. But at night, at the precise time when we were all dressed, ready for a summons to go down to dessert-when Bell scurried off to what she called " right nersel , and nurse went down to the pantry ostensibly to find out when ^eLwf. ove.r 5 generally being in such good time, dinner could aMthe sm^lfJtT11611, * Was left in charSe of *e whole nursery, tohav aTawenf \tVu ee.? ln Kcradle, in particular.-then we began being Allowed no ^Jf ^ °f ^^P1^- By the ruddy firelight,

Earliest Recollections. §

the closed up window — little bright-eyed nimble mice took entire possession of the recess, and enacted all sorts of gambols and vagaries, in a very ghostly and inconceivable manner.

With fascinated eyes we watched them ; if one ventured so far as to touch the edge of the carpet, a universal dismay was silently exchanged, through the eyes, among us. But if they came beyond — if, with a daring that made our hearts quake, they ventured in a body a full yard across the carpet, then we rose with a simultaneous flutter, and all that could, fled to the safe refuge of chairs and tables. I alone dared not leave the cradle. I must remain to save baby, as I could not lift the cradle out of danger, and to take her up out of it would have brought the other side ot the fireplace into speedy competition with the mice side. In other words, I should have felt the taws. And I only made up my mind which I disliked most, the right or the left side of the fireplace, as I felt the effect of the taws or the fears of the mice. We never learnt, by the sudden vanishing of the enemy upon our moving, that they might be as frightened of us as we of them. On the contrary, we regarded this inexplicable disappearance as the most alarming thing of all. * Where were they gone ? We did not see them go. Could they make themselves invisible ? Were they in the cradle, concealed in our clothes ? Anything and everything, but that they had scrambled back to their respective homes. When I left the nursery, ten years old, this awful matter was still a mystery.

Our nursery had two large windows, and because they looked out into the road, they had been modernised. The casements had been taken away, sashes put with strong bars across, for the presumed safety of the children. As far as my safety was concerned, I can solemnly affirm, these bars never prevented my putting my head out as far as I liked, to the imminent peril of dislocating my neck, or leaving an ear behind. On one occasion three of us were in such danger, all jammed together, it was almost thought at one time nurse must send for the blacksmith to extricate us. Nothing but the occasion being an extraordinary one, saved us all from a severe application of the taws for thus alarming her. The occasion was this. Our father and mother were very hospitable people. At certain seasons of the year they had certain parties or clubs to dine with them. Sometimes it was the Mayor and Corporation. Then there was the Literary Society dinner, and again the twenty-four Elders' dinner. At each and all of which we appeared at dessert, highly charmed ; and if not able to appreciate the pride with which our mother showed us off, we were not without a very sensible impression as to the delights of almonds and raisins, candied peel, preserved ginger, with famous figs (such as one never sees now), all of which we only saw and tasted on these great occasions.

A dinner to the Mayor and Corporation was impending. We knew of this fact because papa called us all down to the hall, to see a live turtle that had been sent to him, as a present for the occasion ; the to The Queen of the County.

giver had also promised to send his cook to dress it. To our infantine minds the notion of eating anything alive was so hideous— was simply disgusting. We felt a great deal for the people who had to eat it, and could not reconcile to our minds that our kind father and mother should propose to feed them on such a beast. But they surveyed it themselves with so much complacency, and spoke of those invited as persons who would so felicitate themselves when they heard of the treat in store, that we shifted our pity from them, on the shoulders of the cook. What that cook would have to endure before he (we _ heard him mentioned as a he) transformed that horrible thing into a piece of nice roasted beef— our Sunday dinner, as well as principal idea of what was good, with Yorkshire pudding and browned potatoes— occupied our minds night and day.

We were constantly on the watch for his arrival. The nursery windows commanded the ingress and egress of both front and back doors, as well as a telescopic view of the principal street to the house, over one corner of the churchyard.

We had a sort of vague idea of letting him know we sympathised with him. If he came at a propitious moment, perhaps we might drop him a bit of our plum-bread lunch, served at eleven o'clock.

But when least prepared for it, Bell cries out,

" Ech me ! but if there isn't the Mayor's coach coming up Pipelgate wi' someat awfu' inside ! "

Up we all jumped, opened the windows, crammed our heads out, three of us through the bars. It was the Mayor's coach ; we caught glimpses of the " awfu'" thing inside; they drove up to the front door, a parley ensued, the word " cook " was mentioned. Nothing got out, the door was shut, the coach whirled round, and in wheeling we caught a full and perfect view of a creature inside, totally black in the face, with a white linen cap. The coach drew up at the back door, we stretched out to look farther, the door opened, and out got a black creature, grinning, and bowing, and gesticulating, and, to our dismay, the [back door opened, the coach door shut, the coach drove away empty, and the black man entered our walls, and was now within the house ! No wonder we had all got fast in the bars, and in our struggles to release ourselves, partially forgot our fright at the black cook in our fright at being nearly choked.

If I remember right, the Mayor and Corporation, as well as our father and mother, all made excellent dinners, and enjoyed themselves very much. I know we had each a tiny sip of lime punch, which was so good we would have tasted it again, even had we been told that it was soup concocted from the beast by the black cook.

The churchyard was a very large one, and the great town church stood at the extreme end. Our father used to take us up in his arms and say,

" See, my children, what a view God has given you. You can see beyond the grave. Let my children think and picture to them-

Earliest Recollections. li

selves, whenever they look at the churchyard, what like is the world beyond."

As for me, I saw my own tombstone there. Every time I went to church, I passed a little gravestone with my name on, and my rank in the family, as second daughter to my father. I held that place now, and she who had it before me was gone away to the other world of which we had to think. It was a world of spirits or angels, as we knew — the world which it was our desire, and must be our endeavour to reach. There was but one road to it, which was narrow and straight. My little sister had found it, and gone there.

Was it because she had some virtue in her that I did not possess ? One little sister had merely opened her eyes on this world, and closed them again ; but she whose place I occupied had lived some time.

I always spoke to her, in my heart, as often as I passed. I asked her if she was pleased with me ; if I was doing what she wished. I was desirous to please her, and felt an inward happiness that somehow I was mysteriously linked to an angel in another world.

On Sunday evenings the church was lighted up with dim candles, making its vastness more vast (gas was not much used then, if invented), the organ pealed more solemnly, our father's vqice had a distant warning sound in it. I liked to look up and fancy I saw angels listening up in the great roof, and one soft pair of eyes that beamed in sisterly love more particularly at me. I don't know that I was a good child. I think I was naughty when tempted to be so ; but I never lost the impression that I was answerable to an angel in heaven for performing her part in the world. The little tombstone was like a conscience to me !

Our night nursery was a large one, with beams across it. It opened into a smaller one, called par excellence the young lady's room. Both rooms had casemehted windows, at which the sprays of ivy tapped in the night, in a friendly and confidential manner while flocks of sparrows rushed out in the early morning with sharp bustling wings and noisy, quarrelsome twitterings, as if their whole household were overwhelmed with a sudden and unforeseen domestic misfortune. The last time I saw that room it was piled up to the beams with the dust, rubbish, and gatherings of |the garret of a railway station. Plenty of noise, of whistling, screams, and puffings from never-quiet engines— but no sparrows, no ivy, not a twig left !

Nurse was great at soap and water. She thought everything in life should begin and end in soap and water. She scrubbed us as if we had been floors. As we each emerged out of her sinewy hard hands, we rejoiced that the most painful part of the day was over, and five of us prepared to go and read the Psalms of the day to papa while he shaved. This was a pleasant duty. Papa, whether in his dressing-gown, his face enveloped in soap-suds, or dressed waiting for us, was always pleased at our appearance. We never seemed to come amiss, but were suie to be greeted with some little quaint joke, that made us forget the soap-suds in our eyes and nurse's hard hand.

Moreover there was a little money transaction enacted at this time, upon which part of the happiness of the day depended. One of us always received, after we had read the Psalms, the sum of a halfpenny, sometimes a penny ; we have even experienced the delight of a whole twopence, in the substantial shape of four bulky halfpennies.

It was supposed that papa gave this vast sum as a reward to the best reader.

But imperceptibly it dawned upon us that the best reader did not so often get it. We have made happy dashes at long words, glibly run over a familiar verse, and made successful, though amazing guesses at proper names — all without a reward.

A reverent manner, a perception of the sense at the risk of orthography, an absorbed attention, very often got a penny, notwithstanding faulty pronunciation. Some little eyes watched papa's razor nervously nearing his nose, and thus lost their places.

Others, thinking their turn a long way off, ventured to count his shoes (papa never had a pair of boots in his life), and if the number of gaiters hanging on pegs above matched the number of shoes ; they were always discovered counting.

Again, there was a round mirror that had the effect of making us the broadest-faced, oddest-looking children ever seen. The temptation to see if we had grown any thinner in the estimation of this mirror was great, even to the oldest ones.

On birthdays, which papa was so wonderfully clever as never to forget, his wardrobe was opened, and off the uppermost shelf he took from peaceful repose a very fierce sword. That it was of a savage nature we knew, because, besides its own scabbard, it was encased in a bag of wash leather, which again was guarded by one of green baize. When drawn forth, it was very bright and dazzling, and so delightful was the interesting ceremony of seeing it taken out of its bags, we should have been glad had there been several more. It was so sharp and bright, we thought, had it a mind to do so, it could easily cut through its own scabbard and the two bags, Therefore, for safety, more would have been desirable, let alone the additional pleasure to us of lengthening the interesting ceremony of unbagging it.

_ It belonged originally to our grandfather, and had been worn by him when he volunteered at the Bristol riots, many years ago. As papa bagged it up again, he always pronounced, in a solemn tone, placing it back in honourable repose —

" Perhaps this sword has killed a man."

Prepared as we were for this announcement, constant repetition never weakened its effect.

We felt sure it was a good sword — a sword made to kill wicked people. Of course so good a sword had done its duty.

After leaving papa, we went to breakfast.

riays and Pastimes, 13

On our long table against the wall were seven little mugs of rather blue milk, and seven large lumps of bread. I am trying to remember if we ever had butter on those lumps of bread. I think not. Nurse was very fond of buttered toast. Her table was round, and near the fire. One baby sat on her knee, and she who had been baby sat on a high chair at her side. Bell took her breakfast in the recess, after nurse had finished, under difficult circumstances too, as there was neither chair nor table, only the shelf of the closet.

Baby on nurse's knee was at that age when a laudable anxiety to know the meaning of everything developes itself. Through the medium of her fingers, she was making all sorts of discoveries. Now they were pattering over nurse's buttered toast ; in a minute, they were in the sugar basin ; then they wandered to a glittering knife, grasping with baby bravery the sharp blade ; finally, they popped themselves into nurse's cup of hot tea, and of course upset it.

Old baby, who seems to us to have been the first baby that ever was born, hears baby proper's scream of dismay with a certain satisfaction. She explains, in language that to us borders upon the unknown tongue, that this sad catastrophe was no more than what might have been expected from the awful behaviour of baby ever since she got up. Though desirous to teach her how to behave, and having at great trouble to herself set her a very good example, baby has gone on all the morning in a heedless and defiant manner. Now, even while nurse is wiping up the great slop she has made, and she is listening with much sagacity to old baby's lecture, she laughs a little laugh of defiance, and thrusts her still tingling fingers into nurse's butter. Nurse is easily angered through her butter, so baby is scolded, slightly shaken, and popped upon the floor. She sulks for a minute, but catching sight of old baby's warning face peeping round, she petulantly turns away, and sighting the coal-scuttle, takes advantage of nurse's devotion to tea and buttered toast, and with marvellous rapidity wriggles herself to it. In a few minutes she has made herself the dirtiest little baby ever seen.

" Ay ! but yer aggravating ! " exclaims nurse, and carries her off to be washed and dressed again.

Chapter II. Plays And Pastimes

[IHE rectory had a large garden attached to it, appended to one ' side of the house, like a wind-blown flag. There was a long walk from end to end — up and down it eleven times made a »- ^^ mile. At the lower end the garden took a sudden turn upwards. Near the house it took a similar turn downwards. In this latter part lived thirteen apple-trees. I don't remember that they ever did any duty, and bore apples ; but perhaps that was not their faults — for we were surrounded by smoke of all kinds. Amongst these apple-trees there was a venerable pump. We delighted to pump very hard for a minute or two ; then rushing down to the wall that bounded the garden, we peeped over, and waited with nervous delight for the water which we had pumped to come with a sudden noisy rush through a hole in the wall. We have done this every day for months, and it does not seem to me we ever tired of it.

Our grandmamma had given us a carriage suited to the exigencies of so many children. It was of circular form ; five, even six, could get inside ; two pulled, which by some hallucination peculiar to our brains, was supposed to be the most honourable situation of all. Three pushed behind, which was a duty also much coveted.

No flowers grew in the garden, for the same reason that the apple-trees would not bear apples ; but we had a beech hedge in one part of it, whose tender green leaves afforded us as much delight as if they had been flowers, until they became smoke-dried. We were also greatly interested in the strange chrysalis things that hung in every variety from venerable old currant-trees nailed against the wall, and which never had anything else hanging on them.

Our garden had two arbours— one a dark den, much frequented by spiders and earwigs ; the other, on the highest, most open, and sunniest part of the garden, wide, large, enriched by a green bench, ornamented by a wild clematis, and inhabited by Adam and Eve. This statue of apparently very youthful art presented Adam on one side, with a blooming complexion, a hooked nose, a long open gown, displaying the costume of a blue-coat boy of the present day ; Eve on the other, attached so indissolubly to Adam, that they were indeed one, and united from head to heel, had not so decided a complexion, and had lost her nose before our day. But she had an elaborate head-dress, the remains of gilt ear-rings, an attempt at a ruff and flowered gown, clocked stockings, and high-heeled shoes.

It was our pastime to divide, and take to imaginary living in either arbour. By common consent, being the oldest and strongest (our eldest sister did not live with us), I was always obliged to take Earwig Cottage as my tenement ; for there was a mysterious door close by, with a great lock in it, and two bolts, which we knew led into an evil and dark lane ; indeed, whenever we had someone on whom we could depend as regarded strength and courage, we were morbidly desirous always to have this door opened, that we might peep out. We feared the door when alone, as much as if a wild beast lived on the other side, waiting to devour us.

Those who lived with me in Earwig Cottage always did so by lot and not by choice. Independently of the dreadful door, the earwigs and spiders were great hindrances to our comfort, and moreover we had to acknowledge ourselves as inferior beings to those who lived in

Plays and Pastimes. 15

Sunshine Palace. They called themselves lords and ladies, at times queens and kings, with a lot of princes and princesses ; while we never ranked higher than respectable farmers, and even went so low as to be gipsies — camping out.

Our furniture consisted of bits of old brick, broken shreds of gardenpots, some valuable oyster shells, and part of an old wheel-barrow for a table ; while they had two crab shells, a painted mug, a set of old doll's tea-things, and a regular table, besides the constant company of Adam and Eve.

In fact, when visitors came to call, Adam and Eve did the principal part of the entertaining. Should you chance to come when Eve was showing her once beautiful face to the company, you were formally introduced to her, and requested to admire her dress, her hair, even her shoes ; and after every beauty had been pointed out, and you were not likely ever to forget Mrs. Eve, at some moment, when you looked away, she was adroitly turned round, and you were then called upon to be introduced to Mr. Adam, and go through all his perfections.

Though we Earwigs seldom ventured up to Sunshine Palace without leave, or unless in the orthodox figure of beggars, the inhabitants of that favoured abode were very condescending in their visits to us. Sometimes they came in their coach, namely, the circular carriage, and we were honoured by being ordered to drag them up the hill again. They made us magnificent, but imaginary, presents of food, clothing, furniture, and money. They ordered invisible carpenters to mend our house, imperceptible masons to build us a new one, and were the more profuse in their offers, and louder in their commands, the more improbable the fulfilment.

But it made us all very happy, and I think to this day was not without its use ; we exercised our wits in imaginary conversations, we exerted our faculties in devising makeshifts, we taught each other the habits and modes of polite life, and we were not without the ambition of practising the higher virtues of patience, forbearance, and generosity. It is true all was done in play, but the love of acting rightly, grew with our play.

Adam and Eve joined in it all. I think now in my old age I would give much to see their well-remembered forms again, and would even kiss their stony faces, as we used to do so long ago, when we childishly bid them good night.

In the long winter evenings, when we could not do more in the daytime than run up and down in the garden, papa used to play with us in the hall ; blindman's buff, prisoners base, and French and English, made the house sound again. A rare romp was papa ! We had need to run, to be wary, to creep under chairs, to make bold dashes — he was everywhere in a minute, and yet so discreet we never met with any accident.

If any company were staying in the house, papa took a dish of apples or oranges, and cutting the whole dish up, fed us all like a nest of birdlings, taking his turn with us, which was highly gratifying, and then sending us to play quietly by ourselves.

This was a favourite game. We divided into two parties — one at one end of the room, the other opposite. One side began :

" How many miles to Coventry?"

The answer from the opposite party :

" Three score miles and ten."

" Can we get there by candle-light."

" Yes, and back again."

Upon which both parties set out as hard as they could run, and exchanged places.

Then they began again, the other party asking, and the first party answering.

This game sent us breathless and rosy to bed ; and, though apparently monotonous, never seemed to weary us.

Thus our childhood glided on. If our pleasures were more simple, our duties less arduous, our minds less cultivated than is now the case with the children I see around me, at least we learnt many things that held their sway over us through life's journey.

An early reverence for God and His commands, shadowed forth in the mixture of fear and love with which our earthly father ruled us.

When I and my younger sister, Marblette, were selected to say our catechism in church, before the whole world, with the town children, her little sensitive nature shrunk from the ordeal.