Jackanapes. Daddy Darwin's dovecot. The story of a short life

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( ;ANSEVOORT- LANSING

PART I. £n fHcmortam JULIANA HORATIA

SECOND DAUGHTER OF 'THE REV. ALFRED GATTY, D.D., AND

MARGARET, HIS WIFE,

BORN AT ECCLESF1ELD, YORKSHIRE, AUGUST 3, 1841", MARRIED JUNE I, lS6j, TO ALEXANDER EWING, MAJOR, A.P.D.,

DIED AT BATH, MAY 13, 1885, BURIED AT TRULL, SOMERSET, MAY l6, 1885.

HAVE promised the children to write something for them about their favorite story-teller, JULIANA HORATIA EWING, because I am sure they will like to read it.

I well remember how eagerly I devoured the Life of my favorite author, Hans Christian Andersen ; how anxious I was to send a subscription to the memorial statue of him, which was placed in the centre of the Public Garden at Copenhagen, where children yet play at his feet ; and, still further, to send some flowers to his newly filled grave by the hand of one who, more fortunate than myself, had the chance of visiting the spot.

I think that the point which children will be most anxious to know about Mrs. Ewing is how she wrote her stories.

6 WE HAVE NOT WINGS, WE CANNOT SOAR,

Did she evolve the plots and characters entirely out of her own mind, or were they in any way suggested by the occurrences and people around her?

The best plan of answering such questions will be for me to give a list of her stories in succession as they were written, and to tell, as far as I can, what gave rise to them in my sister's mind ; in doing this we shall find that an outline biography of her will naturally follow. Nearly all her writings first appeared in the pages of "Aunt Judy's Magazine," and as we realize this fact we shall see how close her connection with it was, and cease to wonder that the Magazine should end after her death.

Those who lived with my sister have no difficulty in tracing likenesses between some of the characters in her books and many whom she met in real life ; but let me say, once for all, that she never drew " portraits " of people, and even if some of us now and then caught glimpses of ourselves under the clothing she had robed us in, we only felt ashamed to think how unlike we really were to the glorified beings whom she put before the public.

Still less did she ever do with her pen, what an artistic family of children used to threaten to do with their pencils when they were vexed with each other, namely, to " draw you ugly."

It was one of the strongest features in my sister's character that she " received but what she gave," and threw such a halo of sympathy and trust round every one she came in contact with, that she seemed to see them " with larger other eyes than ours," and treated them accordingly. On the whole, I am sure this was good in its results, though the pain occasionally of awakening to disappointment was acute ; but she generally contrived to cover up the wound with some

BUT WE HAVE FEET TO SCALE AND CLIMB. 7

new shoot of hope. On those in whom she trusted I think her faith acted favorably. I recollect one friend, whose conscience did not allow him to rest quite easily under the rosy light through which he felt he was viewed, saying to her : " It 's the trust that such women as you repose in us men, which makes us desire to become more like what you believe us to be."

If her universal sympathy sometimes led her to what we might hastily consider "waste her time " on the petty interests and troubles of people who appeared to us unworthy, what were we that we should blame her? The value of each soul is equal in God's sight ; and when the books are opened there may be more entries than we now can count of hearts comforted, self-respect restored, and souls raised by her help to fresh love and trust in God, - - ay, even of old sins and deeds of shame turned into rungs on the ladder to heaven by feet that have learned to tread the evil beneath them. It was this well-spring of sympathy in her which made my sister rejoice as she did in the teaching of the now Chaplain- General, Dr. J. C. Edghill, when he was yet attached to the iron church in the South Camp, Aldershot. " He preaches the gospel of Hope," she said ; hope, that is, in the latent power which lies hidden even in the worst of us, ready to take fire when touched by the Divine flame, and burn up its old evil into a light that will shine to God's glory before men. I still possess the epitome of one of these " hopeful " sermons, which she sent me in a letter after hearing the chaplain preach on the two texts : "What meanest thou, O sleeper? arise, .call upon thy God ; ' " Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."

It has been said that, in his story of " The Old Bachelor's Nightcap," Hans Andersen recorded something of his own

8 MADAM LIBERALITY.

career. I know not if this be true, but certainly in her story of " Madam Liberality " l Mrs. Ewing drew a picture of her own character that can never be surpassed. She did this quite unintentionally, I know, and believed that she was only giving her own experiences of suffering under quinsy, in combination with some record of the virtues of one whose powers of courage, uprightness, and generosity under ill-health she had always regarded with deep admiration. Possibly the virtues were hereditary, — certainly the original owner of them was a relation ; but, however this may be, Madam Liberality bears a wonderfully strong likeness to my sister, and she used to be called by a great friend of ours the " little body with a mighty heart," from the quotation which appears at the head of the tale.

The same friend is now a bishop in another hemisphere from ours, but he will ever be reckoned a "great" friend. Our bonds of friendship were tied during hours of sorrow in the house of mourning, and such as these are not broken by after-divisions of space and time. Mrs. Ewing named him " Jachin," from one of the pillars of the Temple, on account of his being a pillar of strength at that time to us.

All my earliest recollections of Julie (as I must call her) picture her as at once the projector and manager of all our nursery doings. Even if she tyrannized over us by always arranging things according to her own fancy, we did not rebel, we relied so habitually and entirely on her to originate every fresh plan and idea ; and I am sure that in our turn we often tyrannized over her by reproaching her when any of what we called her "projukes " ended in " mulls," or when she paused for what seemed to us a longer five minutes than

1 Reprinted in " A Great Emergency."

NURSERY TALES. 9

usual in the middle of some story she was telling, to think what the next incident should be.

It amazes me now to realize how unreasonable we were in our impatience, and how her powers of invention ever kept pace with our demands. These early stories were influenced to some extent by the books that she then liked best to read, — Grimm, Andersen, and Bechstein's fairy tales ; to the last writer I believe we owed her story about a Wizard, which was one of our chief favorites. Not that she copied Bechstein in any way, for we read his tales too, and would not have submitted to anything approaching a recapitulation ; but the character of the little Wizard was one which fascinated her, and even more so, perhaps, the quaint picture of him, which stood at the head of the tale ; and she wove round this skeleton idea a rambling romance from her own fertile imagination.

I have specially alluded to the picture, because my sister's artistic as well as literary powers were so strong that through all her life the two ever ran side by side, each aiding and developing the other, so that it is difficult to speak of them apart.

Many of the stories she told us in childhood were inspired by some fine woodcuts in a German "ABC book," that we could none of us then read, and in later years some of her best efforts were suggested by illustrations, and written to fit them. I know, too, that in arranging the plots and wording of her stories she followed the rules that are pursued by artists in composing their pictures. She found great difficulty in preventing herself from " overcrowding her canvas ' with minor characters, owing to her tendency to throw herself into complete sympathy with whatever creature she touched : and, sometimes, — particularly in tales which

10 . WINDMILLS.

came out as serials, when she wrote from month to month, and had no opportunity of correcting the composition as a whole, — she was apt to give undue prominence to minor details, and throw her high lights on to obscure corners, instead of concentrating them on the central point. These artistic rules kept her humor and pathos — like light and shade — duly balanced, and made the lights she " left out " some of the most striking points of her work.

But to go back to the stories she told us as children. Another of our favorite ones related to a Cavalier who hid in an underground passage connected with a deserted Windmill on a lonely moor. It is needless to say that, as we were brought up on Marryat's "Children of the New Forest," and possessed an aunt who always went into mourning for King Charles on January 30, our sympathies were entirely devoted to the Stuarts' cause ; and this persecuted Cavalier, with his big hat and boots, long hair and sorrows, was our best beloved hero. We would always let Julie tell us the " Windmill Story ' over again, when her imagination was at a loss for a new one. Windmills, I suppose from their picturesqueness, had a very strong attraction for her. There were none near our Yorkshire home, so, perhaps, their rarity added to their value in her eyes ; certain it is that she was never tired of sketching them, and one of her latest note-books is full of the old mill at Frimley, Hants, taken under various aspects of sunset and storm. Then Holland, with its low horizons and rows of windmills, was the first foreign land she chose to visit, and the ''Dutch Story," one of her earliest written efforts, remains an unfinished fragment ; while "Jan of the Windmill' owes much of its existence to her early love for these quaint structures.

It was not only in the matter of fairy tales that Julie reigned

DEEP MEANING IN CHILDISH PLAY. II

supreme in the nursery, she presided equally over our games and amusements. In matters such as garden-plots, when she and our eldest sister could each have one of the same size, they did so ; but, when it came to there being one bower, devised under the bending branches of a lilac bush, then the laws of seniority were disregarded, and it was " Julie's Bower." Here, on benches made of narrow boards laid on inverted flower-pots, we sat and listened to her stories ; here was kept the discarded dinner-bell, used at the funerals of our pet animals, and which she introduced into " The Burial of the Linnet." Near the Bower we had a chapel, dedicated to Saint Christopher, and a sketch of it is still extant, which was drawn by our eldest sister, who was the chief builder and care-taker of the shrine ; hence started the funeral processions, both of our pets and of the stray birds and beasts we found unburied. In "Brothers of Pity"1 Julie gave her hero the same predilection for burying that we had indulged in.

She invented names for the spots that we most frequented in our walks, such as "The Mermaid's Ford," and "St. Nicholas." The latter covered a space including several fields and a clear stream, and over this locality she certainly reigned supreme ; our gathering of violets and cowslips, or of hips and haws for jam, and our digging of earth-nuts were limited by her orders. I do not think she ever attempted to exercise her prerogative over the stream ; I am sure that, whenever we caught sight of a dark tuft of slimy Batrachospermum in its clear depths, we .plunged in to secure it for mother, whether Julie or any other Naiad liked it or no ! But "the splendor in the grass and glory in the flower" that we found in St. Nicholas was very deep and real, thanks

1 Brothers of Pity, and other Tales of Beasts and Men.

12 PRIVATE THEATRICALS.

to all she wove around the spot for us. Even in childhood she must have felt, and imparted to us, a great deal of what she put into the hearts of the children in "Our Field." l To me this story is one of the most beautiful of her compositions, and deeply characteristic of the strong power she possessed of drawing happiness from little things, in spite of the hindrances caused by weak health. Her fountain of hope and thankfulness never ran dry.

Some of the indoor amusements over which Julie exercised great influence were our theatricals. Her powers of imitation were strong ; indeed, my mother's story of " Joachim the Mimic ':i was written, when Julie was very young, rather -to check this habit which had early developed in her. She always took what may be called the " walking gentleman's >: part in our plays. Miss Corner's Series came first, and then Julie was usually a Prince ; but after we advanced to farces, her most successful character was that of the commercial traveller, Charley Beeswing, in " Twenty Minutes with a Tiger." " Character ' parts were what she liked best to take, and in later years, when aiding in private theatricals at Aldershot Camp, the piece she most enjoyed was " Helping Hands," in which she acted Tilda, with Captain F. G. Slade, R. A. as Shockey, and Major Ewing as the blind musician.

The last time she acted was at Shoeburyness, where she was the guest of her friends Colonel and Mrs. Strangways, and when Captain Goold-Adams and his wife also took part in the entertainment. The terrible news of Colonel Strangways' and Captain Goold- Adams's deaths from the explosion at Shoebury in February, 1885, reached her while she was very ill, and shocked her greatly ; though she often alluded

1 A Great Emergency, and other Tales.

PARISH WORK. 13

to the help she got from thinking of Colonel Strangways' unselfishness, courage, and submission during his last hours, and trying to bear her own sufferings in the same spirit. She was so much pleased with the description given of his grave being lined with moss, and lilac crocuses, that when her own had to be dug it was lined in a similar way.

But let us go back to her in the nursery, and recall how, in spite of very limited pocket-money, she was always the presiding genius over birthday and Christmas-tree gifts ; and the true Saint Nicholas who filled the stockings that the " little ones ': tied, in happy confidence, to their bedposts.

As she emerged from the nursery and began to take an interest in our village neighbors, her taste for " projects " was devoted to their interests. It was her energy that established a lending library in 1859, which still remains a flourishing institution ; but all her attempts were not crowned with equal success. She often recalled, with great amusement, how, the first day on which she distributed tracts as a District Visitor, an old lady of limited ideas and crabbed disposition called in the evening to restore the tract which had been lent to her, remarking that she had brought it back and required no more, as, - - " My 'usband does not attend the public 'ouse. and we Ve no unrewly children ! '

My sister had also a class for young women, which was held in the vicarage because she was so often prevented by attacks of quinsy from going to the school ; indeed, at this time, as the mother of some of her ex-pupils only lately remarked, " Miss Julie were always cayling."

The first stories that she published belong to this so-tospeak "parochial" phase of her life, when her interests were chiefly divided between the nursery and the village. " A

14 TRAVELS.

Bit of Green " came out in the " Monthly Packet " in July, 1861; "The Blackbird's Nest" in August, 1861 ; " Melchior's Dream " in December, 1861- ; and these three tales, with two others, which had not been previously published (" Friedrich's Ballad " and " The Viscount's Friend "), were issued in a volume called " Melchior's Dream and other Tales," in 1862. The proceeds of the first edition of this book gave Madam Liberality the opportunity of indulging in her favorite virtue. She and her eldest sister, who illustrated the stories, first devoted the " tenths ' of their respective earnings for letterpress and pictures to buying some hangings for the sacrarium of Ecclesfield Church, and then Julie treated two of her sisters, who were out of health, to Whitby for change of air. Three years later, out of some other literary earnings, she took her eldest brother to Antwerp and Holland, to see the city of Rubens's pictures, and the land of canals, windmills, and fine sunsets. The expedition had to be conducted on principles which savored more of strict integrity and economy than of comfort, for they went in a small steamer from Hull to Antwerp ; but Julie feasted her eyes and brain on all the fresh sights and sounds she encountered, and filled her sketch-book with pictures.

" It was at Rotterdam," wrote her brother, " that I left her with her camp-stool and water-colors for a moment in the street, to find her, on my return, with a huge crowd round her, behind and before, - - a baker's man holding back a blue veil that would blow before her eyes, — and she sketching down an avenue of spectators, to whom she kept motioning with her brush to stand aside. Perfectly unconscious she was of how she looked, and I had great difficulty in getting her to pack up and move on. Every quaint

MAY THE OPEN HAND BE FULLEST! 15

Dutch boat, every queer street, every peasant in gold ornaments, was a treasure for her note-book. We were very happy ! ':

I doubt, indeed, whether her companion has experienced greater enjoyment during any of his later and more luxurious visits to the same spots ; the first sight of a foreign country must remain a unique sensation.

It was not the intrinsic value of Julie's gifts to us that made them so precious, but the wide-hearted spirit which always prompted them. Out of a moderate income she could only afford to be generous from her constant habit of thinking first for others, and denying herself. It made little difference whether the gift was elevenpence-three-farthings' worth of modern Japanese pottery, which she seized upon as just the right shape and color to fit some niche on one of our shelves, or a copy of the edition de luxe of " Evangeline," with Frank Dicksee's magnificent illustrations, which she ordered one day to be included in the parcel of a sister, who had been judiciously laying out a small sum on the purchase of cheap editions of standard works, not daring to look into the tempting volume for fear of coveting it. When the carrier brought home the unexpectedly large parcel that night, it was difficult to say whether the receiver or the giver was the happier.

My turn came once to be taken by Julie to the sea for rest (June, 1874), and then one of the chief enjoyments lay in the unwonted luxury of being allowed to choose my own route. Freedom of choice to a wearied mind is quite as refreshing as ozone to an exhausted body. Julie had none of the petty tyranny about her which often mars the generosity of otherwise liberal souls, who insist on giving what they wish rather than what the receiver wants.

1 6 AS MUCH GREATNESS IN GRATITUDE

I was told to take out Bradshaw's map, and go exactly where I desired, and, oh ! how we did pore over the various railway lines, but at last chose Dartmouth for a destination, as being old in itself, and new to us, and really a " long way off." We were neither of us disappointed ; we lived on the quay, and watched the natives living in boats on the harbor, as is their wont ; and we drove about the deep Devon lanes, all nodding with foxgloves, to see the churches with finely carved screens that abound in the neighborhood, our driver being a more than middle-aged woman, with shoes down at heel, and a hat on her head. She was always attended by a black retriever, whom she called "Naro," and whom Julie sketched. I am afraid, as years went on, I became unscrupulous about accepting her presents, on the score that she " liked " to give them ! — and I only tried to be, at any rate, a gracious receiver.

There was one person, however, whom Julie found less easy to deal with, and that was a relation, whose liberality even exceeded her own. When Greek met Greek over Christmas presents, then came the tug of war indeed ! The Relation's ingenuity in contriving to give away whatever plums were given to her was quite amazing, and she generally managed to baffle the most careful restrictions which were laid upon her ; but Julie conquered at last, by yielding — as often happens in this life.

" It 's no use," Julie said to me, as she got out her bit of cardboard (not for a needle- book this time) ; " I must make her happy in her own way. She wants me to make her a sketch for somebody else, and I Ve promised to do it."

The sketch was made, — the last Julie ever drew, — but it still rests among the receiver's own treasures. She was so much delighted with it, she could not make up her mind to

AS IN GEN7EROSITY. I/

give it away, and Julie laughed many times with pleasure as she reflected on the unexpected success that had crowned her final effort.

I spoke of " Melchior's Dream," and must revert to it again, for though it was written when my sister was only nineteen, I do not think she has surpassed it in any of her later domestic tales. Some of the writing in the introduction may be rougher and less finished than she was capable of in afteryears, but the originality, power, and pathos of the Dream itself are beyond doubt. In it, too, she showed the talent which gives the highest value to all her work, — that of teaching deep religious lessons without disgusting her readers by any approach to cant or goody-goody ism.

During the years 1862 to 1868, we kept up a MS. magazine, and, of course, Julie was our principal contributor. Many of her poems on local events were genuinely witty, and her serial tales the backbone of the periodical. The best of these was called " The Two Abbots : a Tale of Second Sight," and in the course of it she introduced a hymn, which was afterwards set to music by Major Ewing, and published in Boosey's Royal Edition of " Sacred Songs," under the title " From Fleeting Pleasures."

While speaking of her hymns, I may mention that, on several occasions, she helped us by writing or adapting hymns to be sung by our school-children at their Whitsuntide festal services, when " new hymns " had to be provided every year. Two of those that my sister wrote, in the respective years 1864 and 1866, shall be given here, as they are not published elsewhere, and I think other children besides our Ecclesfield ones may like to sing them. The first was written to the tune of Hymn 50 in the present edition of " Hymns, Ancient and Modern."

1 8 WHITSUNTIDE HYMN.

I

Come down ! come down ! O Holy Ghost !

As once of old Thou didst come down, In fiery tongues at Pentecost,

The apostolic heads to crown.

Come down ! though now no flame divine, Nor heaven-sent Dove our sight amaze ;

Our Church still shows the outward sign Thou truly givest inward grace.

Come down ! come down ! on infancy ;

The babes whom JESUS deigned to love.

God give us grace by faith to see,

Above the font, the mystic Dove.

Come down ! come down ! on kneeling bands Of those who fain would strength receive ;

And in the laying on of hands Bless us beyond what we believe.

Come down ! not only on the saint, Oh, struggle with the hard of heart,

With wilful sin and inborn taint,

Till lust, and wrath, and pride depart!

Come down ! come down, sweet Comforter !

It was the promise of the Lord.

Come down ! although we grieve Thee sore,

Not for our merits — but His Word.

Come down ! come down ! not what we would But what we need, oh, bring with Thee !

Turn life's sore riddle to our good ;

A little while, and we shall see. Amen.

VINCIT QUI PATITUR. 19

The second hymn is in the same metre as " The Pilgrims of the Night," and was written to fit the flowery tune to which the latter was originally attached.

II. Long, long ago with vows too much forgotten

The cross of Christ was sealed on every brow ; Ah ! slow of heart, that shun the Christian conflict, Rise up at last! The accepted time is now. Soldiers of JESUS ! Blest who endure ; Stand in the battle ! the victory is sure.

Hark ! hark ! the Saviour's voice to each is calling: •' I bore the Cross of Death in pain for thee;

On thee the Cross of daily life is falling :

Children, take up the Cross and follow ME ! ' Soldiers of JESUS ! Blest who endure, etc.

Strive as God's saints have striven in all ages ;

Press those slow steps where firmer feet have trod : For us their lives adorn the sacred pages,

For them a crown of glory is with God. Soldiers of JESUS ! Blest who endure, etc.

Peace ! peace ! sweet voices bring an ancient story (Such songs angelic melodies employ), .

" Hard is the strife, but unconceived the glory : Short is the pain, eternal is the joy/'

Soldiers of JESUS ! Blest who endure, etc.

On, Christian souls ! all base temptations spurning,

Drown coward thoughts in Faith's triumphant hymn, Since JESUS suffered, our salvation earning, Shall we not toil, that we may rest with Him ? Soldiers of JESUS ! Blest who endure, Stand in the battle ! the victory is sure, Amen.

20 AUNT JUDY.

My sister published very few of the things which she wrote to amuse us in our MS. " Gunpowder Plot Magazine," for they chiefly referred to local and family events ; but " The Blue Bells on the Lea '' was an exception. The scene of this is a hill-side near our old home, and Mr. Andre's fantastic and graceful illustrations to the verses when they came out as a book, gave her full satisfaction and delight.

In June, 1865, she contributed a short parochial tale, "The Yew Lane Ghosts," l to the "Monthly Packet," and during the same year she gave a somewhat sensational story, called " The Mystery of the Bloody Hand," to " London Society." Julie found no real satisfaction in writing this kind of literature, and she soon discarded it ; but her first attempt showed some promise of the prolific power of her imagination, for Mr. Shirley Brooks, who read the tale impartially, not knowing who had written it, wrote the following criticism : " If the author has leisure and inclination to make a picture instead of a sketch, the material, judiciously treated, would make a novel, and I especially see in the character and sufferings of the Quaker, previous to his crime, matter for effective psychological treatment. The contrast between the semi-insane nature and that of the hypocrite might be powerfully worked up ; but these are mere suggestions from an old craftsman, who never expects younger ones to see things as veterans do."

In May, 1866, my mother started " Aunt Judy's Magazine for Children," and she called it by this title because "Aunt Judy" was the nickname we had given to Julie while she was yet our nursery story-teller, and it had been previously used in the titles of two of my mother's most popular books, "Aunt Judy's Tales," and "Aunt Judy's Letters."

1 Melchior's Dream, and other Tales.

VISITS TO GRENOSIDE. 21