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Charlotte Mary Yonge, her life and lette

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CHARLOTTE MARY YONGE

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Charlotte Mary Yonge

Her Life and Letters

BY ,e

CHRISTABEL COLERIDGE

' In Thy Law is my Delight '

ILontion

MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited

NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1903

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INTRODUCTION

The task which I have felt to be so great an
honour is now concluded. I have endeavoured to
share with others my impressions, my knowledge, of
Charlotte Yonge. I have tried as far as I can to
show her as she was in herself, so that her fine
example may be made known far and wide, rather
than to chronicle the small events of her very quiet
life in regular order.

In one way the task has been easy, for so
consistent, so harmonious a life has surely never
been described, and rarely been lived. Her daily
life, her published writings, her letters to' friends
and relatives, are all in accordance with each other.
No inconsistent nor disappointing record has, or
ever can, leap to light where she was concerned.

An immense number of letters have been kindly
entrusted to me ; they are of extraordinarily even
merit, and they all present the same character from
beginning to end. She did not invent letters, she
talked on paper.

One difficulty has been that there is hardly a
date on one of them. The earlier ones to Miss
Dyson have been, I conclude by Miss Dyson her-

vi CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

self, tied up in packets, and dated with the year to
which they belong. Had this not been done, the
difficulties would indeed have been increased greatly.
Miss Yonge did not preserve her friends' letters, nor
did she apparently consider her own, if returned to
her after the death of her correspondents, of much
value. Probably she was too busy ever to set them
to rights.

Moreover, in writing to intimate friends, she took
their knowledge of her subjects for granted, and
wrote in an extremely allusive style, mentioning
characters in stories, cousins, and school-children all
by their Christian names, and often all in the same
sentence, so that it is by no means easy to identify
them. The cousinhood also has repeated the same
Christian names to a perplexing degree, and even
intimate knowledge is sometimes at fault in undated
letters. Often, too, there are no names at all, " the
Bishop," "the baby," "she," "his illness," "her
death," and so on, recurring without any clue to the
identity of the individuals meant.

It need hardly be said that these facts make it
difficult to arrange letters so as to interest the
public, though the amount of information conveyed
to the recipient, and its lively varied character, are
always delightful.

The piece of Autobiography which she has left be-
hind her covers the period of her childhood and early
youth ; but in all memoirs the writer has constantly
to weigh the respective claims of the friends for

INTRODUCTION

VI 1

whom no detail can be too small, and the general
readers who want a short and vivid picture, and to
strike the balance between them. I think I have
read all the letters entrusted to me, and I can truly
say that for myself there was the greatest interest
in them all. Those which I have not been able
to reproduce have all helped to form the picture
which I have tried to paint. I know too well that
it is faint and imperfect. Another hand might
have been more skilful — I do not think any other
heart could have brought more love to the task.

My thanks are due, first, to Miss Helen Yonge
for the generous confidence with which she has
placed in my hands all the materials at her disposal ;
secondly, to Miss Anderson Morshead for valuable
help with dates and other details, as well as for
letters lent ; to Miss Yonge of Rochdale, Yealmp-
ton, for her recollections and letters; to Mrs. Sumner
and Mrs. Elgee for their contributions.

Also to Miss Helena Heathcote for letters to her
family and herself; to Mrs. Lewis Knight for the
letters to Dean Butler and his family ; to the Misses
Moberly for letters and for the sight of family journals
of great value; to Mrs. Romanes, the Lady Frederick
Bruce, Mrs. Harcourt Mitchell, Mr. Vere Awdry,
Miss Annie Cazenove, and Miss Wilford, for letters
lent. I must also thank Mr. Yonge of Puslinch
and Mr. Pode of Cornwood for the portraits which
they have allowed to be reproduced. Also I must
thank Miss Kingsley for permission to print her

viii CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

father's letter to Mr. John Parker, and to all who
by advice, sympathy, or criticism have helped me
in my difficult work.

One fact as to this I should like to mention.
Some years ago I was " approached " on the
subject of a life of Miss Yonge by a firm of eminent
publishers, and I spoke to her about it. She
refused to allow the idea to be entertained during
her lifetime, saying that " her mother would not
have liked such a thing to be done." " But," she
said, " I suppose you will be the one to do it, if it
is to be done." And I think that from that time
forward she gave me bits of information about her
early days with a view to my making subsequent
use of them.

Therefore this, the first piece of literary work
of any consequence which I have ever done without
the help of her criticism and sympathy, has been,
in every possible way, planned out with a view
to satisfying her taste and judgment. For in no
other way could I so well show what she herself
was like, and I can only hope that she would have
found nothing in it displeasing to her.

CHRISTABEL COLERIDGE.

Cheyne, Torquay,
December 15, 1902.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAGE

Autobiography ...... i

Descent — Family Characteristics — Her Mother's Girlhood — Her
Father's Youth — Lord Seaton's Account of Waterloo — Coro-
nation of George IV. — Marriage of Parents.

CHAPTER H
Autobiography . . . . . -37

Birth — Dr. Yonge of Plymouth — Description of Otterbourne — Old
Church — Old School — Mrs. Yonge's First School — Mrs.
Bargus — Early Childhood — Visits to Puslinch — Plymouth and
Antony — Her Cousins.

CHAPTER HI
Autobiography ......

Her Brother's Birth — Death of her Uncle Charles Yonge of Eton —
Early Recollections — Rickburning in Hants — Games at
Puslinch — Visit to London — Sunday School — New Friends —
Visit to Oxford — Death of her Cousin James— Education —
Mr. Keble atHursley — New Church at Otterbourne — Prepara-
tion for Confirmation.

CHAPTER IV
Girlhood .......

Extracts from Mothers in Council — The Chdieau de Melville —
Character in Youth — Letters to Anne Yonge — Recollections
by Miss Mary Yonge.

ix

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

CHAPTER V

PAGE

Growing Powers . . . -144

Friendship with Miss Dyson — Magazine for the Young — Langley
School — Scenes and Characters, and other Stories — Letters to
Miss Dyson.

CHAPTER \T

The ' Heir of Redclyffe ' and the ' Monthly Packet ' 162

Development of the Story — Suggestions for Magazine for Girls —
Julian Yonge joining the Army — Friends "going over to
Rome " — Mr. Keble's Influence and Support — Letters to Miss
Dyson sketching out the Story of the Heir of Redclyffe, and
accepting the Editorship of the Monthly Packet.

CHAPTER Vn
Success . . . . . . .182

Publication of Heir of Redclyffe — Daisy Chain — Other Books —
Julian Yonge ordered to the Crimea — Death of her Father —
Return of her Brother — Letters to Miss Dyson on these
Subjects.

CHAPTER VHI
Mother and Daughter. . . . .196

Dyiievor Terrace and the Young Stepmother — Marriage of the
Honourable Jane Colborne — Marriage of Julian Yonge — The
Goslings — Letter to Miss Dyson on Bishop Selwyn's visit to
Winchester, and the gift to the Mission of the profits of the
Heir of Redclyffe ; to her Mother on Miss Colborne's Marriage ;
to Miss Anne Yonge on Julian's Home - coming and
Marriage — Death of Mr. and Mrs. Keble — Description of
Elderfield — Death of Mrs. Yonge — Letter on Visit toTorquay.

CHAPTER IX

Solitude . . . . . . .231

Journey Abroad — Death of Anne Yonge — Retirement of Mr. Bigg-
Wither — The Pillars of the House — Her Views on Church
Matters — Letter to Miss Dyson on her Mother's Death ; to
Mr. Butler of Wantage ; to Miss Dyson on her Visit to M.
Guizot at Val Richer ; to Miss Yonge of Puslinch on Anne
Yonge's Death ; to Miss Dyson on Life of Keble, on Bishop
Wilberforce, on Death of the Rev. George Harris, on the
Death of Mr. Gibbs of Tyntesfield — Notes by Mrs. Elgee on
the Parish Life of Otterbourne.

CONTENTS xi

CHAPTER X

Missionary Interests . . . . .265

Life of Bishop Patteson — Letter to Miss F. Patteson ; to Miss
Dyson — The coming of Miss Gertrude Walter to live at Otter-
bourne — Division of Otterbourne and Hursley — Passing away
of Friendly National Society Stories — A Helper in the
Monthly Packet.

CHAPTER XI

The Last Years . . . . . .280

Sale of Otterbourne House — Death of Mr. Julian Yonge — Album
of Signatures — Scholarship — Notes by Mrs. Sumner and Miss
Anderson Morshead.

CHAPTER XH

Letters from Miss Yonge to various Friends . 295

To the Heathcote Family ; to Miss Barnett and to the Family of
Dean Butler ; to Miss Florence Wilford ; to Miss Cazenove ;
to Miss A. Moberly ; to the Lady Frederick Bruce ; to Rev.
Vere Awdry ; to Miss Bigg-Wither ; to Mrs. Harcourt
Mitchell ; to Miss Anderson Morshead ; to Miss Helen Yonge ;
to Mrs. George Romanes ; to Editor of Guardian and Miss M.
E. Christie ; to Miss C. Fortescue Yonge ; to Miss Christabel
Coleridge.

APPENDIX A
Letters from Various Friends . . . 348

APPENDIX B
Bibliography — Family Pedigrees — Important Dates 355

APPENDIX C

Specimen of recorded Conversations — Imaginary
Biographies — Examination Papers — Account of
Funeral . • • • 373

INDEX . • • 385

ILLUSTRATIONS

Charlotte Mary Yonge, mt. about 35

Catharina Yonge

Duke Yonge ....

John Yonge ....

Frances Mary Yonge and Julian Bargus Yonge

puslinch .....

Charlotte Mary Yonge, ^t. 20

William Crawley Yonge

Charlotte Mary Yonge

Elderfield, Otterbourne

Otterbourne Church .

Charlotte Mary Yonge, ^t. 75

. Frontispiece

5

12

64

DNGE

72

81

120

186

204

224

272

280

xin

CHAPTER I

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

- '• i
If I am to begin my own history I must start very
far back, to show the influences of race and place
which, for better and for worse, have made me what
I am.

Our tradition is that in the time of James, when
knights' fees were heavy and zealously exacted, a
gentleman of the Norfolk family of Yonge eluded
the expensive honour by fleeing into Devonshire.
His son acted as surgeon^ in the CavaHer Army ;
his grandson, James Yonge, was a physician of some
note in his day. Of him it is related that he em-
balmed the King of Portugal, also Sir Cloudesley
Shovel ; that he was at one time taken prisoner by
the Moors of Algiers and worked as a galley slave,
and while practising at Plymouth he made a great
improvement in trephining. He married Mary
Upton,^ one of the heiresses of Puslinch, an estate

1 Dr. May, in the Daisy Chain, was an outcome of Miss Vonge's heredi-
tary honour and respect for the medical profession.

2 There is an old letter to Elizabeth Upton, her sister, still kept at
Puslinch, from Grace Bastard of Kitley, who was enjoying a season at Exeter,
describing the fashions, and also how the young ladies " do spread the white

B

2 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

on the banks of the river Yealm. which can be
traced through successive marriages of heiresses,
up to one Roger de Langford, in the time of
Henry III.

The old house of Puslinch, with a chapel
dedicated to St. Olaf attached to it, lay on the bank
of the river, but Dr. Yonge built a new house
higher up Headon Hill, in the square fashion of
Queen Anne's time, each fa9ade having the same
number of sash windows with heavy frames. The
building is of light-coloured brick, faced with stone ;
there is a flight of stone steps to both the doors, a
large stone hall, and handsome oak stair, and all
the rooms were wainscoted. There, too, the Doctor
had a very good library, chiefly of the Church and
Royalist class of writings. Indeed, there is a tradi-
tion of a quarrel with his brother Nathaniel on the
unlawfulness of the regicide, resulting in Nathaniel's
disowning him and spelling the family name Young.
He bought the advowson of the living of Newton
Ferrers, in which parish Puslinch stands, rather
more than two miles from the church, and brought
his eldest son up to be a clergyman, the second a
doctor. His portrait, in a flowing wig and flowered
dressing-gown, with a broad nose which he has
transmitted to his descendants, hangs in the dining-
room at Puslinch. He edited an edition of the

apron " for Mr. Bastard, the young heir of Kitley. In this letter she also
says " Vou may se by the hoal in the paper that the Squirl is a life ; for while
I ware to Dinner he eat a hoal in it." (There is the little hole visible !)

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 3

works of King Charles I., with the earliest defence
of the royal authorship of Eikon Basilike}

His son, John Yonge, married Elizabeth Duke,
one of the co-heiresses of the Dukes of Otterton.
The only daughter of this lady's sister married
Colonel Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary, so that the
Dukes ^ are represented by the Yonges and Cole-
ridges, who have always kept up a close cousinly
connection.

John Yonge died early, leaving three sons, John,
James, and Duke. John was destined to take Holy
Orders and receive the living, James to be trained
for a physician, to take the practice at Plymouth
after his uncle, and Duke, who loved him with more
than usual affection, chose to share the same pro-
fession. John was rather weak and subject to fits.
A letter to his mother from him is extant, complain-
ing that he had been sent to Oxford with " sparables
in his shoes," and was laughed at for them. He
married a Miss Ellacombe, spent a great deal of
money, mortgaged part of the property, and died
by a fall while hunting when only three-and-twenty.
His widow was always said to have stripped the
house of furniture, and she gave annoyance to the
family by the epitaph on his tombstone. On his
death, James's lot was changed. He was to become
the squire and take the living, and his brother

'^ Miss Yonge, in early life, invented, and partly wrote, a story about the
Upton family, but she never made any use of it.
2 There are other descendants of the Duke family.

4 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Duke, rather than separate from him, likewise
became a clergyman.

While at Oxford, the two brothers became
acquainted with Thomas Bargus, son of a naval
officer, Richard Bargus, who, after sailing round
the world with Lord Anson, had settled at Fareham,
in Hampshire. A close friendship arose between
the young men, and a visit of Mr. Bargus to
Puslinch was commemorated by triple copies of a
set of water-coloured sketches by Payne (Payne's
grey) of the beautiful scenery of the Yealm.

James and Duke seem to have been fond of
commemorations of this kind. They were patrons
of Northcote the painter, and when James paid his
addresses to Mrs. Bastard, the widow of his neigh-
bour, Edmund Pollexfen Bastard, of Kitley, he
presented her with a picture of her little Italian
greyhound by Northcote.^ His suit was, however,
unsuccessful, though his brother Duke succeeded
better with her younger sister, Catharina Crawley,
whom he married soon after being ordained, taking
possession of the living of Otterton, which he ex-
changed after a time for the Vicarage of Cornwood,
in order to be nearer to his beloved brother.

James lost his first wife, who left only one
daughter Nanny, who did not live to grow up.
His second wife, Anne Grainger, an excellent
person, but deaf, had brought him six children,
when he died — I think of decline.

1 This picture is now in the possession of Mrs. Julian Yonge.

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I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 5

He was an excellent botanist/ and left a large
collection of dried flowers. Excellent portraits by
Northcote are still at Puslinch of him, with a keen
refined face, his brother Duke,^ bright-eyed and
eager-looking, and his sister-in-law Catharina, a
bright-complexioned, dark-eyed young thing, with
beautiful arched eyebrows, dressed in a gold-spotted
muslin and turban, which became her wonderfully.

The early death of his brother made Duke Yonge
guardian and manager of the family, and his own
nine children were one with the six at Puslinch, so
that throughout life they were much more like
brothers and sisters than first cousins. The boys
of the two families were distinguished at school as
the Puss Yonges and the Cat Yonges.^

Duke Yonge of Cornwood was a deeply religious
man in a very slack time. He did what indeed a
man like him neither would nor could do now ; he
held Newton for his young nephew together with
his own parish of Cornwood, and Sheviocke in
Cornwall, but he never spent the income of his
livings on his family, but provided for the needs of
the parishioners with their proceeds. He was an
active magistrate, and in this capacity was absolutely
the first who provided a manual of prayers to be
used with prisoners. As a preacher he was much
esteemed, and Cornwood Church was so much filled

1 Another family trait inherited by Charlotte.

^ Duke Vonge and Catharina Crawley were the grandparents of Charlotte
Mary Yonge.

' Puss — Puslinch. Cat — Catharina.

6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

that he put up two galleries.^ He was sole medical
attendant to his parishioners, and was called up at
all hours to attend to them, and he actually made
an endowment to provide medical attendance for
them after his time. " Old Mr. Yonge up to Corn-
wood, he was a real gentleman, and cared no more
for the rich than the poor," was the saying of one
of the small farmers who had often been brought
before him for ill-usage of apprentice lads.^

His biography, with selections from his papers,
was compiled by his cousin, afterwards Sir John
Taylor Coleridge, and well bears out the reverence
with which all who knew him spoke of him, and he
left his mark deep on all his sons and nephews,
perhaps deepest of all on the only ones who survived
till I was old enough to converse with them, his
eldest nephew, and his two youngest sons.

In the meantime Thomas Bargus had become a
clergyman and was acting as a private tutor to
Lord Brooke, Lord Warwick's eldest son, who was
a Commoner at Winchester. Malignant fever
broke out, and Lord Brooke and John Locke
Bargus, a young brother of the tutor, both died.
Mr. Bargus was broken-hearted, but Lord Warwick,
convinced he was not to blame, placed his other
sons in his care ; and he was enabled to marry a
lady of Irish birth whose maiden name was Cordelia

1 This showed exactly the same spirit of love for the Church which has
caused his descendants to spend much money in taking galleries down.

2 Conscientious scruples as to Church property, devotion to Church work,
deep personal religion-^an ideal grandfather for C. M. Yonge.

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 7

Garstin, but who was the widow of an unsuccessful
speculator in salt works at Lymington. He had
left her with two children, John and Cordelia
Colborne, whom Mr. Bargus treated with warm
affection, sending the boy at once to Winchester
College.^

He lost his wife at the birth of his own first
child, Alethea Henrietta,^ and three years later he
married Mary Kingsman, daughter of the Vicar of
Botley, by whom he had one daughter, Frances
Mary.'

This complicated family, to which was added
Maria Kingsman, an orphan niece, lived partly at
Winchester, where Mr. Bargus at one time had, I
believe, a minor canonry, and partly at Berkeley.

In 1799 Lord Selsey gave him the living of
Barkway in Hertfordshire to hold for one of his
sons.

John Colborne, his step-son, had been placed by
him in Winchester College, where the lad was
thought to do nothing, though Maria Kingsman,
who used to play at chess with him, always augured
well of him. A commission was procured for him,
and he was soon sent off on the Quiberon Bay
Expedition. As he embarked at Cork, an old woman

1 The French master at Winchester had been buried in the great earthquake
of Lisbon, and dug out again. — C. M. Y.

2 She was put out to nurse at Frog Lane, St. Cross ; and he, coming to
see her and dancing her up and down in his arms, knocked her head against
the ceiling, and for a moment thought he had killed her. — C. M. Y.

3 Charlotte's mother.

8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

called out to him, " Ye'll come back here a Gineral,
Commander-in-Chief," and he did.

Quiberon Bay was a failure, and so was the
Walcheren Expedition, but in this last the young
officer was quartered in the priest's house. They
had no common language but Latin, and the value
of this hitherto despised acquirement so rose in his
eyes that from that time he dated his resolution to
work at self-improvement.^

The vicarage at Barkway was a happy home,
where all the young people grew up with strong
affections to one another and to Mr. and Mrs.
Bargus.

My mother, the little Fanny of the household,
was probably the least happy. She was five years
younger than her half-sister Alethea, and was a
nervous, sensitive, ailing child, very clever, and
probably not understood by her mother — a bright
bustling lady who had married late in life. " Maria,"
who taught her and petted her, was her great pro-
tector. Her sister, a strong healthy girl with no
nerves, and a contempt for nonsense, seems to have
teased her, calling her "poor little viper," after the
dog Viper, because, like him, she cried at certain
tunes on the piano. In after times she used to
delight me with minute descriptions of the old
house, with a square pond in front, the beauties of

1 The fact that Charlotte carefully recalls all these and other details about
John Colborne, Lord Seaton, is so characteristic of her admiration of him as a
great Christian soldier that they are by no means extraneous to any picture of
her own personality.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 9

Lord Selsey's house, Newsells,^ and the characters
in the village, especially the gipsy who used to
come and fiddle at domestic parties, his buttons
being coins of the realm. She recollected the going
with her father to carry the newspaper with tidings
of Trafalgar to Newsells !

Barkway is within a mile of Cambridge, and
when Duke and Charles Yonge, the two eldest of
the Cornwood family, came to the University, they
naturally visited their father's friend. Duke was, I
have always heard, an exceedingly handsome youth,
tall, and with such a figure that he was accused of
wearing stays, with regular features, and fine dark
eyes and hair. Both were brimful of wit, fun, and
cleverness, and they found a thorough response in
Delia Colborne and Maria Kingsman.

I am afraid the only drolleries that can preserve

1 The family from Newsells used to wait at the Vicarage for the carriage on
Sunday. The only daughter was just of the same age as Alethea Bargus, but
the formality of the time was such that though playfellows and friends for life
she was always " Miss Peachey,'' never Caroline.

Fanny used to go to Newsells with the others when they dined there (at 4
or 5 I believe) and was very proud of having the run of the library, because Lord
Selsey said " he could trust her never to eat bread and butter over his books."

The chief place in the parish was called Cockenhatch (I don't think it is
rightly spelt !) and was inhabited by Sir Francis Wills, a little dry old lawyer
who used to say his rank was the "fag end of nobility," and his wife, who
was devoted to animals. She had a cotamundi who used to gnaw her
husband's slippers, and once she came to call on a hot day with a shawl over
her habit because the parrot had bitten a hole in the shoulder. They had a
gallery in church edged with orange colour stopping up the chancel arch.
My mother used to think it wonderfully beautiful, and wonder at those who
lamented its ugliness.

As to their house and garden, it was unchanged when I saw it in 1859.
Such fishponds enclosed with evergreens ! Such an exquisite carved wooden
chimney-piece, all brackets and branches and frames for pictures ! — C. M. Y.

lo CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

their point so long were those provoked by " Aunt
Betsey," Mr. Bargus's half-sister, who by her own
account had had her education stopped in her child-
hood by " a tick in her shoulder." It must have
stopped very short indeed, for having employed
Maria to write a letter for her, she exclaimed in
delight : " There now. Miss Kingsman, you write
' the ' just as I do ! T-h-e- the, not t-h-e-y. What's
the use of putting that great flourishing tail of a
' y '. T-h-e the is quite enough ! "

When a gentleman calling had not been intro-
duced to her, she exclaimed in wrath, "He never
spoke to me ; I believe he took me for a Statute of
Venus" (the last likeness probable for her !) When
she had walked a little way beyond the garden she
came back saying " she had been to explode the
country." She threatened a dog to " whip his
little posterity " ; and whenever riddles were being
guessed, she always proposed the same —

" Yonder the seas, and benethen the seas
There lies a lady bound ;
Every vein is cut in twain,
Yet ne'er a bloody wound —

Now that's what I call a genteel riddle." The
answer was " A wheat-sheaf."

I believe my Uncle Duke drew out her oddities
delightfully. Also he wrote a poem on " Church
and Army," combined in the person of a curate
who had become a volunteer during the general
arming of England, and about whom it was the

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY ii

fashion to joke Maria Kingsman. Little Fanny,
childishly catching up the jest, received a lesson
on coupling people's names together which lasted
her for life/

Duke Yonge was really attached to Cordelia
Colborne, and carried on much of his courtship
through petting and playing with the little Fanny,
who retained a delightful memory of him, and the
sort of bower he built for Delia's return when he
had come over from Cambridge and found only the
little one at home.

Somewhere about this time John Colborne had
a short leave, and he has spoken of the pleasure
of finding the little sister grown into companion-
ship. He had been in Sicily, where he had set
himself to learn Italian, and thus obtained a place
on General Fox's staff. I have seen his study in
Italian, a little book with an Italian version of " the
King of the Cats," and also sheets of paper thus
covered / / / / / which was supposed then to be the
way to cure an ungainly schoolboy handwriting.
It must have been at that time that he gave an old
worn-out charger to a poor man at Barkway. It
had some humps on its back where the saddle had
galled it, and the old man used to show them as
cannon balls under the skin. I think, but am not
sure, he was Rapier Gyver the Clerk. (No ! the
clerk was Kingsley.)

1 This scruple was handed down to Charlotte, and is referred to more than
once in her writings.

12 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Maria Kingsman taught her little cousins till
they were sent to school, not together, as there
were five years between their ages. I think, but
am not certain, that Fanny was at school when
Cordelia Colborne married Duke Yonge.

He had the living of Antony in Cornwall given
him by Reginald Pole Carew, Esquire, a life-long
friend of his father. It should not be forgotten as
a curious trait, that when my grandfather and Mr.
Carew parted on leaving their first school, they
broke a sixpence between them in token of
friendship. ;

Charles Yonge of Cornwood at the same time
was at King's College, Cambridge, and in due time
became an Eton master. The next brother, John,
died when about sixteen ; the two youngest, James
born in 1793 and William^ born in 1795, were
called " a Word and a Blow " from their different
characters. Their brother Duke, on some occasion
when the Vicarage was crowded, had the two little
boys sleeping in his room. Waking early he heard
James launch out into a long description of a
dream, speaking as fast as the words would come
out of his mouth. When he paused for an answer,
all he got from the two years' younger William
was " Prove it." This was exactly like them both
through life.

Cornwood is a very beautiful place on the
borders of Dartmoor. The Vicarage stood on

1 William Crawley Yonge, Charlotte's father.

■-IJ 'u^^r,':'/>W-'L-r.-U/>/, J.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 13

the side of a steep hill with a precipitous bank
covered with brushwood and ferns descending to
the Yealm. Higher up the stream is a lovely-
ravine, full of wood and rock, the river dashing
through, and beyond lies the wild moor. It was
a place of out-of-door freedom, and of power of
sport most delightful, and bound the hearts of
the lads who grew up there with the charm of
mountaineers.

It was a well-disciplined home too. Mrs. Duke
Yonge was one of the briskest and most active
of women, and kept her daughters in strict order.
I think they were afraid of her. All her children
called her " Ma'am." There were four daughters,
Charlotte, Susan, Catharina and Anne, who was
five years younger than her brother William, and
of whom some one truly told her mother that she
was given to be the comfort of her old age.

Mrs. Yonge ^ must have been a good mistress,
for her servants stayed with her for life. Old Joe,
the coachman, was famous for his sayings ; once
when she asked him to drive a little faster, he
replied, " I drives my horses as I plazes." The
only one I remember was George Smith, the old
footman, who never broke anything in his life
(but his own leg !) though he daily washed up
the dragon breakfast china, besides " doing " the
dining-room, which he would not on any account
have abandoned to " those women."

1 Catharina Crawley.

14 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Cornwood was near enough to Plymouth to be
much affected by the war. During the fear of in-
vasion a store of guineas was kept in the house, and
everything was ready to send all the women into the
heart of the moor. One remembrance that has been
handed on to me is of a ship coming in with gold
candlesticks taken from a Spanish prize. In the
ship was Mrs. Yonge's nephew, George Crawley,
a fine high-spirited young man, who got into a
scrape with the Plymouth Corporation for pressing
men, and was shut up for a night in a regular
dungeon, under the Guild Hall, with a grated
window on a level with the pavement. He married
his cousin, Charlotte Yonge of Cornwood, but in
a very few years caught disease of the lungs
while cruising with Lord Collingwood in the
Mediterranean, and died, leaving her with one
little girl born after his death.

The widow continued at home, and her sweet-
ness and tenderness seemed to have made her the
most beloved of the whole family. William Yonge
was fired by admiration of Captain George Crawley
to wish to become a sailor, but his godfather. Sir
William Young (descendant of Nathaniel), then
Port-Admiral of Plymouth, strongly dissuaded him
from it, calling a sailor's life a most miserable one.
In the meantime, he, like all his brothers and
cousins, began his education at Ottery St. Mary
School. This was then under Mr. George
Coleridge, whose brother. Colonel Coleridge of

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 15

Heath's Court, had married the daughter of one of
the Duke heiresses. Heath's Court is close to the
Church and Grammar School, and the Coleridge
and Yonge cousins grew very intimate.

Ottery was an excellent school, the teaching was
most accurate and thorough, the severity very
great, even for the time, but not unequal or un-
certain, and there was room enough for great
happiness. My Uncle James was wont to say that
all the good he got at school at all was at Ottery,
and certainly, when he and his brother William went
into Eton College, they found themselves so forward
for their age that they had only to rest on their
oars. Harsh as Ottery was, they were happier
there than poor Fanny Bargus at Bedford Square.
She never was well in London, and never had
strength to walk before breakfast. The young
ladies had to take regulation turns round the Square
the first thing each day. She would have given
the world to any one who would have carried up
her bonnet. She could not eat, could not play, and,
clever as she was, could not learn, and always had
" mediocre " as a mark. They must have been cut-
and-dried lessons, for she once lost a place for
pausing to consider whether Henry III. was a
good or a bad king. She had no comfort but in
looking at her little watch, and thinking so much
time of her banishment was over, and in looking at
the house on the opposite side of the Square where
some connections lived ; also in occasional calls from

i6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Major Colborne. When she was sixty, and he
nearly eighty, he told me that the cause of her
dreariness was that she was so clever and used to
grown-up companionship, that she was miserable
among silly schoolgirls ; and when I repeated this,
she was quite taken by surprise, never having
guessed that she was thought clever. I fancy mis-
management of health and nerves were much more
really the cause of her depression, for she had much
playfulness of mind, though not strength of body.
She must, however, have been respected, for in
consequence of what she said at home of the sermons
at the church the girls attended, their sittings were
taken in another. But there was little religious
teaching attempted, and when she was confirmed
at the Chapel Royal, St. James's, her examination
from her godfather. Dr. Goddard, headmaster of
Winchester College, was, " Well, my dear, I suppose
you know all about it."

Somewhere about this time she was taken to
Windsor, and saw George III. and his family
walking on the Terrace on Sunday afternoon. He
was blind, leaning on Princess Elizabeth's arm.
The Princess had short sleeves, and rolls of fat
concealed her elbow. Princess Amelia was ill, and
only looked out of window. Fanny was told that
the Princess was admiring her tiny foot (it was very
slender and pretty — so slender that no ready-made
shoes fitted her) ; but, as her friend was wont to
flatter, she did not believe it. She was still at

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 17

school when her father died suddenly of apoplexy
in the midst of a magistrates' meeting at Royston
in 1808. I think he must have been a good and
able man, though not equal to my other grandfather.
His step-son always attributed to him the deep
unobtrusive religion which made Major Colborne
different from too many around him. He used to give
a Bible to each child when it had said the Catechism
perfectly in Church. One of these I have seen.
There was only a dame school in the parish to which
special children were sent. He used to wear a
cassock, and black gown over it, on Sunday. He
tried experiments in electricity (a Leyden jar of his
came down to my time with maccaroons stored in it),
and had a turn for botany. I think he must have
been rather extra - refined, for there is a three-
pronged silver fork about the house which was
made for him, because he hated the taste of steel.
It is in droll contrast to this that my other grand-
father so disliked personal luxury that when he
gratified his wife by bringing home a box of silver
forks from London, he still kept his own old steel
one. One possession given to Mr. Bargus by Lord
Warwick, his pupil, deserves to have its history
recorded. A friend promised Lord Warwick a
companion to the Warwick vase. Thinking of
course it would be equal in size, the Earl arranged
for it to come by canal, and be met by a waggon and
horses. A little chip box was handed to him. It
contained a little figure of Minerva in bronze, dug

c

1 8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

out of Herculaneum, but about six inches high !
He was so much disgusted that he gave it to Mr.
Bargus !

Mr. Bargus was buried at Barkway with the
epitaph, taken I think from the Spectator, and
chosen by himself — " What he was will be known
at the last day."

Major Colborne, after doing a son's part to the
widow, sailed for Spain on the staff of Sir John
Moore, while Mrs. Bargus, with her step-daughter
Alethea Bargus and her niece Maria Kingsman,
settled in Sloane Street ; and in another year
Fanny's penance was at an end, and she came home
to a house which then looked into a field where
grazed the donkeys that supplied invalids and babies
with asses' milk. It was therefore called Bray
Park.

The Bargus family lived in Sloane Street for
about ten years, making occasional visits to
Winchester, where Mrs. Bargus had a sister, and
Dr. Goddard, thei head-master, was a great friend.
I have heard an old Wykehamist say that the boys
stood round to watch for Alethea Bargus getting
out of the carriage at' the master's door, they thought
her so pretty. She had a beautiful apple-blossom
complexion, regular features, and large steady blue
eyes, but her figure was always too sturdy for
beauty. She had immensely strong hands, and was
in those days in robust health ; a resolute sensible
girl, devotedly good, but with none of her sister's

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 19

imagination or sensitiveness, but a grave sort of
self-denial and contempt of indulgence. When
Dorothea, in Middlemarch, thinks it absurd to care
for the jewels, she always reminds me of what I
knew of my Aunt Alethea, though she never would
have ended by keeping the best of all.

I believe it was while staying with her sister at
Antony that she became engaged to the young head
of the Yonge family, John Yonge of Puslinch, who,
having been born in 1769, was the same age as
herself, and was ordained to the family living of
Newton Ferrers.

Her half-brother. Major Colborne, had, in the
meantime, been one of those who buried Sir John
Moore at the dead of night. He was his great
hero, and fifty years after his voice trembled as he
spoke of him. By Sir John's dying advice, Major
Colborne joined the Spaniards, and afterwards was
gazetted to the 52nd Regiment, with which his
name is identified. At Ciudad Rodrigo, whilst
walking up the breach, a spent bullet entered his
shoulder ; he suffered terribly. We have a short
letter to Fanny Bargus scrawled with his left hand ;
a previous one to Alethea from his servant had
begun " Horned Miss." George Napier, who lost
an arm at the same time, recovered so much faster
as to be able to nurse him. The army surgeons
could not extract the bullet, and he came home to
the house in Sloane Street and submitted himself
to the surgeons every day. Dr. Moore, brother of

20 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Sir John Moore, first detected it, but before it
could be extracted Colonel Colborne was summoned
to Antony by his sister's dangerous illness, and it
was actually taken out at the Military Hospital at
Plymouth, flattened, and with a piece of the
epaulette which it had driven in.

When he came to London to give away his
sister Alethea, he had to do it with his left hand,
much to the annoyance of the old pew-opener.

I think, but am not sure, that it was in the same
Devonshire visit in which he attached himself to
Elizabeth Yonge of Puslinch that there was a
grand expedition up the Tamar to Cothele, in
which Fanny Bargus declared that the only word
she heard from her contemporaries, James Yonge
of Puslinch and William Yonge of Cornwood, was
" Rats ! "

William Yonge left Eton at sixteen, and after
some study of mathematics, and military plan-drawing
with Malvoti, an engineer, was gazetted to the 52nd
Regiment, then commanded by Colonel Colborne.
He joined in the midst of the siege of St. Sebastian,
and his first experience of war was crossing a bridge
on which the enemy's guns were firing. He hesi-
tated to bend his head below the shelter of the
parapet, and older soldiers had to advise him not
to expose himself to danger without necessity.

He kept a journal dutifully at that time, but in
dreadful schoolboy writing, and with wonderfully
little in it, though the sight of it served in after life

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 21

to assist his recollections. The 52nd was unani-
mously declared one of the most distinguished
regiments in the service, and the high tone of many
of the officers for all the qualities of true chivalry
made it remarkable. Warm friendships were made
there, and specially I remember Colonel Hall as a
life-long friend of my father, and a man of high
cultivation and accomplishment. ^

The storming of St. Sebastian was soon followed
up by the crossing of the Pyrenees. The outposts
of the two armies were sometimes so near together
that the pickets were within speaking distance.
Once a Frenchman called out to the English
officers, " When are you going to send us back to
France, la belle France ? " and then he began
capering about in a national dance.

The Sergeant's directions to the sentries used
to be that if one Frenchman attacked him, he could
easily be disposed of, so could two, so could three ;
it was not needful to give the alarm unless there
were more than three. Very practically one
Englishman equal to three Frenchmen ! Four
clasps testify to William Yonge's four battles —
Nive, Nivelle, Orthes, Toulouse.

The peace of 18 14 was a time of joy, of which
my mother retained a vivid recollection. She saw
the Regent go in state to St. Paul's to return
thanks, and she used to tell of the difference
between that happy Easter and the next, when all

1 Many letters from Colonel Hall are in existence.

22 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

were aghast at the escape from Elba and renewal
of the war. I do not think she was in London when
the Allied Sovereigns were there ; only heard the
description from some ridiculous person who was
impressed with his own genius in perching himself
on a window-ledge, whence, as he reiterated, he saw
the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia,
and Prince Gagerene,^ and Prince Metternich, " and
they bowed to me, yes. Ma'am, they bowed to me ! "

Sir John Colborne, as he had now become, had,
in a brief winter's visit to England in 1812, married
his Elizabeth, the brightest, most playful, and lively
of creatures, and he took her with him to Brussels,
he having been appointed Military Secretary, i.e.
to the Prince of Orange, that same " Dutch Sam "
whom Princess Charlotte, with very good reason,
rejected. Meantime the 52nd was under orders for
America, and was actually on board ship, but con-
trary winds kept them in the Cove of Cork, till the
escape of Napoleon from Elba caused them to be
countermanded and sent to join the army mustering
at Brussels. Thackeray's description of Brussels
before Waterloo in Vanity Fair was declared by
those who had seen it to be perfect.

On the morning of the i8th of June, the 52nd
were lying on Mt. St. Jean, a ploughed field, in a
drizzling rain, wet, hungry, and miserable, having
only had coals without wood served out to them !
Many years after, a soldier servant of one of the

1 This queer name may be a traditional mistake.

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 23

ofificers, Sir William Clarke, declared that he had
gone round the whole regiment with his master's
hair-oil and oiled every firelock — a precaution that
deserves to be as memorable as the cases of the
bows at Cregy ! However, tins of hot something,
coffee, I think, were somehow achieved ; William
Yonge, then a lieutenant just twenty, shared his
with William Leeke, the junior ensign, a nephew
of Mr. Bargus, and in the midst the bugle sounded
for what was the greatest fight England has yet
seen.

The 52nd formed one of those squares that stood
indomitably all day. Once when they had to retreat
a few steps, and there was a momentary discourage-
ment, chiefly at the sight of their own killed and
wounded, some men ducked their heads. " That
must be the second battalion," called out Sir John
Colborne. The likening them to young soldiers
was reproof enough ; they were upright instantly. ,

The British hosts had stood
That morn 'gainst dint of sword and lance,
As their own ocean rocks hold staunch.
But when thy voice has said " Advance ! "
They were that ocean's flood.

Just when the supreme moment of the battle
had come, towards the evening, and Napoleon had
ordered the charge of his Imperial Guard, a
Cuirassier Colonel, a deserter, galloped down
towards the 52nd calling out, " Ces coquins vont
charger ! "

24 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

On this, Sir John began moving forward, seeing
the time was come. The Duke saw the move and
called out, " That's right, Colborne, go on, go on ! "

On they went. A cavalry regiment, broken by
the Imperial Guard, came flying down on them ;
they opened their ranks to let them pass through,
and, forming again, went on, showing thus their
perfect discipline, passing the Guard, whose am-
munition was exhausted.

On, on they went. Sir John's horse was killed
under him, and he mounted in haste one near, too
full of excitement to see that it was harnessed to a
gun-carriage. He spurred in vain, and was heard
calling, " Cut me out, cut me out ! "

On they went — the Guard, Napoleon's last hope,
breaking and fleeing before them hopelessly. The
crisis of Waterloo was over ! At the foot of the
slope they met the Prussians. One of the officers
threw his arms round Ensign Leeke, embracing
him and his colour together. The other colour
was lying under the dead body of Ensign Nettles.

The 52nd bivouacked on the spot. The Duke
sent for Sir John Colborne that night, but he was
looking after his wounded and could not be found
till after the despatch was written, in a farm-house
kitchen, full of wounded staff-officers. Lord Fitzroy
Somerset's arm just cut off, the Duke much
distressed, and not able to gather full particulars.
Sir John Colborne wrote himself, among other
letters^ —

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 25

My dear Fanny — You will be surprised at the Gazette. The
army behaved well, the 52 nd as usual. — Your affectionate

J. COLBORNE.

He thought the final charge would have been
fully explained, and the honour awarded to the
52nd. When he found that it was passed over in
silence, he never uttered a word of complaint or
attempted to put his claim forward. Gossip picked
up, or invented, " Up, Guards, and at them ! " but
Guardsmen themselves at the time declared that
they could not share in the decisive charge, because
their ammunition was used up. But the crisis of
Waterloo has become a vexed question.^
■ That night of victory was spent in the open
field, in the clothes the officers and men had
fought in. All the officers' luggage was plundered
by the Belgians during the battle. The only thing
ever recovered was William Yonge's box, empty of
all save his Bible and Prayer- Book, which was
found in a loft at Brussels. His friend, Mr.
Griffiths, found a pony tied to a post, with a saddle-
bag containing two coarse women's shifts, and this
was the only change of linen any one had, as they
marched straight on for Paris. In preparation for
entering the city they halted at St. Cloud, and
there all the officers got into one pond, and passed
the single razor in their possession from chin to chin.
They encamped in the Champs Elysees, and the

' This account is compiled from original letters of Lord Seaton, then in
Miss Yonge's possession.

26 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

opportunity William Yonge then had of studying
the collections of Napoleon's robberies in the
Louvre gave him for life a great taste and apprecia-
tion of art. His sister Charlotte commissioned him
to buy prints for her, and he bought her some fine
Raphael Morghens, which she afterwards left to
him. Also he gave to his brother-in-law, Charles
Crawley (a connoisseur in Rembrandts), a most
beautiful copy of Albert Durer's " Knight of
Death." ^ He was on guard when the " Horses of
St. Mark " were taken down to be removed to
Venice, as a rising of the Parisians was apprehended,
but the crowd looked on with the exhausted apathy
to which they had been reduced.

Sir John Colborne wanted Fanny Bargus to
have come out with his wife to join him at Paris,
but journeys were more serious things then, and
her mother would not let her go.

Those years of living in London with her mother
and Maria Kingsman were not lost. She had
masters, and was a very good French and Italian
scholar ; and drew and painted figures in water-
colours so accurately that I do not know her copy of
the " Marriage of St. Catharine " from her master's ;
but there was no notion of originality or copying
from nature for young ladies in those days. She
was also very well read in French and English, and
she had a great enjoyment of Lord Selsey's library.
Newsells was Lady Selsey's inheritance. West

1 This always hung over Miss Yonge's writing-table.

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 27

Dean in Sussex was the Peachey property. Here
Lord Selsey the elder built a very handsome flint
house on the borders of the Downs near Chichester,
with a beautiful library, with a roof in imitation of a
grand Tudor Hall with pendants. The eldest son
died, and the second was sent for home. He had
much taste for books and art, and Fanny learned
much from him. The refusing to play at chess
with him on a Sunday evening was one of her
strongest conscious efforts to do right.

Fanny never was well in London, and journeys
were made every summer, often into Hampshire,
where Mrs. Bargus's sister Sarah had married a
clergyman at Winchester named Westcombe, who
was found murdered on the road. Neither she nor
her only son Tom ever quite recovered the shock.
He must have been of a timid nature, for when
a very small child he was taken to the sea- side
to be bathed, and seeing a wave coming he made
his confession of faith thus — "Mamma, I do love
Pontius Pilate better than anybody else in the
world."

There is another legend of his early childhood
that, when staying at Barkway, he and Alethea
Bargus were left at home during church-time, and
were discovered in the coach-house — ^she lathered
all over, and he endeavouring to shave her !

Mrs. Westcombe, comparatively early in life,
had a paralytic seizure, and lost her memory, as
well as the use of her limbs. Mrs. Bargus used to

28 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

come into lodgings at Winchester to be near her.
Strange stories of old Winchester have thus come
to me. Mrs. Hook, Dean Hook's mother, had
Shakespeare readings, but these were thought
pretentious, and Fanny was not allowed to go to
them (she had read Macbeth on a hayrick at
Barkway, and had seen Mrs. Siddons as Volumnia).
In the house which is now (1877) Mr. H. Moberly's
lived Mrs. Home, a stately old Scottish lady, who
was supposed to form the manners of the young
ladies she received. Odd forming it must have
been, for, seeing an awkward girl to whom she
had recommended a course of drill, she exclaimed,
" To give the devil his due, Miss does walk
better."

An orphan niece, Jessie Murray, was sent to her
from Scotland, and on the first Saturday night,
seeing all at cards in the drawing-room, amazed all
by saying, " Should we not be preparing for the
honourable Sabbath ? "

In those days the Cathedral was under what
would now be called restoration, under the super-
vision of Dr. Nott, one of the Canons, a man much
before his time in appreciation of Gothic archi-
tecture. He took out the Grecian urns wherewith
Warden Harris had filled the empty niches of
Bishop Foxe's reredos, removed the organ from
the western choir-screen, and did much more in
excellent taste, till his work was arrested by a fall
from the scaffolding. He fell on his head and

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 29

never was able to do anything again at Winchester,
but spent the rest of his life in Italy, collecting
curious books. Nobody cared to go on with the
renovations, and the work was finished up anyhow.
Many years later an old man, who had been one of
the stone masons employed, showed Dr. Moberly
(the present Bishop of Salisbury-') where the real
good work had ended, and the hurried finish
begun.

During these repairs, the daily service was in
the Lady Chapel chanted without the organ, and
my mother went daily and enjoyed it. Once she
went into the Cathedral by moonlight with Sarah
Rennell, the Dean's daughter, and they delighted
in the lights and shadows as if they were " viewing
fair Melrose aright," when the clock began striking
and startled them.

Old Dean Rennell was a man of great mark, as
a scholar and divine. He preached the sermon at
the consecration of Bishop Middleton of Calcutta,
which was not printed because of the unpopularity of
sending a Bishop to India. He was also memorable
for having refused to let the Duke of York gamble
in his house, an act worthy to stand beside that of
Ken, who refused to admit Nell Gwynn into the
house adjoining the Deanery. But it did not meet
with a like reward.

Sarah Rennell, my mother's friend, married
William Coleridge, afterwards first Bishop of

1 In 1877.

30 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Barbadoes. Her brother Tom was a young clergy-
man of great promise, but died early. These visits
to Winchester ended in the Sloane Street house
being given up, and the purchase of a small house
and field at the little village of Otterbourne, four
miles from Winchester. I think, but am not sure,
that this removal was conceded to Fanny Bargus
as an attempt at compensating her for the check
thrown in the way of William Yonge's attachment
to her. He had remained in France with the army
of occupation, and was quartered at St. Omer, in a
house where the landlord translated the name of his
dog Pincher into " Binche." It was so muddy that
the officers used to go out coursing on very high
pattens and sabots.

A little later, the youngest son of the Puslinch
family, Edmund Yonge, a sailor, was supposed to
be in a decline, and was sent abroad to William
(who, I think, at that time had been put out of
the army, as junior lieutenant, by the reduction of
1818). The cure then in vogue was being under
a Swiss doctor, who made the patient live in a
cowhouse and drink milk.^ This was tried with
Edmund at Geneva (just at the time that Miss
Mannier married Mr. Sumner, a very bad match
it was thought), and afterwards the two cousins
went to Hyeres, then little known, but where the
old Admiral, Lord St. Vincent, was then dying.

1 This cure will be remembered in Delphine, by Madame de Genlis, one
of the tales in Les VeilUes du Chdteau.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 31

William Yonge always remembered it as a Paradise
of orange -trees and big blue violets. Edmund
Yonge did not die even under the cowhouse system,
but made several voyages, and kept his cough till
he was nearly seventy years old.

William was able to join the 52nd again in
Ireland. How the next meeting had taken place
I never was told, I only know that it was a five
years' attachment before consent was obtained.
Mrs. Bargus would not hear of her daughter
marrying into a marching regiment, and Mr. Duke
Yonge was equally averse to his son relinquishing
his profession.

So there was a trial of constancy, during which
time the 52nd was chiefly at Dublin, and there
beheld the rejoicings when George IV. visited
Ireland. He was on guard when a great State
ball was given in some place where he looked
down on the fearful crush of ladies and gentlemen
on the stairs — which he always said was the worst
crowd he had ever seen. After it was all over,
the staircase was strewed with fragments of dresses,
flowers, and feathers.

In one of those years, Mrs. Bargus and her
daughter made a journey to the north of England
and Scotland. There they visited Mr. and Mrs.
Baker of Whitburn, and the sister of the latter,
Mrs. CoUinson of Gateshead. The portraits of
both families have been drawn in the Valley of
a Hundred Fires and the Queen of the County

32 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

by a daughter of Mrs. Collinson.-^ She had
nine daughters and three sons ; Mrs. Baker, no
children ; and the eldest of the CoUinsons was
brought up in prim propriety at Whitburn, while
the others ran happily wild in "dear old Dingy,"
as they called their garden at Gateshead parsonage.
One of them once told somebody who asked how
many of them there were : " Eight little girls, and
one young lady."

Mr. and Mrs. Baker were in 1821 rather before
the world in general in their parochial arrange-
ments ; moreover, :they were very botanical, and
very musical. They had in a little cup, a spider
orchis transplanted from Kent to their lawn, which
was rolled by a horse in boots, to keep him from
spoiling the turf, and every night: they played
together on the violin and piano. And thus they
lived on till I myself saw them, spider orchis, violin
and all, full forty years later, having really come
nearer to "living very happy ever after" than any
one else I ever met.

From Whitburn, Mrs. and Miss Bargus went
on to Dunse Castle. Their visit was to some of
the Garstin family (from whom Alethea Bargus's
mother had come). A very curious romance
belonged to these friends. Robert Garstin, a
captain in the army, had gone out with his
regiment to Halifax, then so primitive a place
that the ladies laid in their stock of needles

1 Mrs. de Winton.

I AUTOBIOGRAPHY 33

whenever a consignment arrived from England.
There he married a girl of sixteen, brought her to
England, had three children, and then went to
India and never took any more notice of her,
leaving her, at about twenty, penniless in a strange
country. I think that they had been quartered
near, or at, Dunse, and it was there that Mrs.
Garstin was thus deserted. Mrs. Hay of Drumme-
breir and all who knew about her were very
kind, and the Garstin family in Warwickshire
befriended her, so that she struggled on, and after
a time was sent for to live with her husband's
kindred there.

There was a sorrowful parting between Mary
Garstin and young Hay, and no sooner was he
of age than he came south, married her, and settled
her mother and sister, Cordelia, in a pretty cottage
near Dunse Castle, which he proceeded to over-
build in modern Gothic. There it was that my
mother first heard the Bride of Lammermoor.
She was already exceedingly fond of Scott, and
always reckoned the first reading of Waverley as
an era in her life. It is one of the coincidences
that is pleasant to remember, that I found in an
old pocket-book that my father had with him in
France, written out in his own hand, the song in
the Lady of the Lake, " Huntsman, rest."

My mother was in London with Sir John and
Lady Colborne all the time of the coronation of
George IV. The share the two ladies had of

D

34 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

the sight was not great, for Lady Colborne was
not well and could not go out. Her husband went
officially, but old Sir William Young, who was in
the same house, was prevented from going by
having fallen down and cut his nose open against
a step. It was all plastered up with strips of
sticking-plaster, but the old gentleman, a very
upright, stiff, pompous-looking man, kindly regaled
the ladies with the sight of himself in his robes
of the Bath, and walked quarter-deck up and down
the room in his crimson mantle, with his hands
clasped behind him, and his black plastered nose,
till they were ready to die with laughing.

At last in 1822 consent was given to the
marriage, and William Yonge retired on half-pay
to make his home at Otterbourne with Mrs.
Bargus. Very strong and devoted must have been
the love, for the sacrifice was great of his much-
loved profession and his regiment, nay, even in
living in Hampshire instead of Devonshire, which
he always loved like a mountaineer. He told me
once that he always felt like a schoolboy coming
home for his holidays when he came near Dartmoor,
and I have heard him quote Lucia's words, " I see
my mountains," ^ as we came in sight of the familiar
torrs.

I think, too, that his family were vexed that so
fine a young man of twenty-seven should throw up
his profession, and settle down on a small estate of

1 In I promessi Sposi.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 35

his mother-in-law's, with nothing to do, except what
he made for himself.

They were married in October 1822.

Miss Yonge truly says " that the influences of
race and place have made her what she was." She
loved to quote a saying of President Garfield's,
that " Character is the joint product of Nature and
Nurture."

The record she has made of her family history
is characteristic, and the history itself significant.
She loved and respected the past, especially the
past of her own family, and she had a good right
to do so. Her forefathers were cultivated, reason-
able gentlemen, sound Churchmen and excellent
parish priests, in an age when we are apt to think
that all country squires spent their time in hunting
and drinking, and all parsons were idle and self-
indulgent. We see how much sober enthusiasm,
how deep a sense of duty, the men who gained
most from the " Oxford Movement " brought to
it themselves out of the " dark ages " of the Church
of England. It is satisfactory to find that Charlotte
Yonge's grandfather used all the proceeds of his
living in the service of the Church. Lord Seaton,
her mother's step - brother, and her cousin by
marriage, continued through life to be her ideal
of the virtuous and honourable soldier. He was

36 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap, i

her justification for the chivalrous and knightly
characters which she loved to draw. She never
would admit that the heroes of her stories were
" too good to be true," but always said she had
known as good, and better, an opinion which those
who have in any way shared in the same environ-
ment will not care to contradict.

She believed in good men and good women,
because those to whom she belonged were good.
Her mother's early life, her talents and her educa-
tion, had great influence on Charlotte's early years ;
the family connections, here somewhat lengthily
described, were her life-long friends, and friendship
with her was sweetened and strengthened by a drop
of kindred blood. She also loved places, and loved
to know all about them ; she never forgot her
inheritance in South Devon, while she drew out
all the influences of her Hampshire home in their
fulness.

It is not possible to understand her life without
knowing something of the great cousinhood to
which she belonged.

CHAPTER II

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I WAS born at Otterbourne on the nth of
August 1823, and my christening was somewhat
hurried to let my father return to my grandfather,
who was ill. My sponsors were my eldest uncle,
Duke Yonge, my father's favourite sister, Charlotte
(Mrs. George Crawley), and my mother's friend,
Mrs. Vernon Harcourt.

At six weeks old I was taken into Devonshire ;
our first stage then, as often afterwards, was
Brickworth, belonging to my mother's friend Fanny
Eyre, recently married to Mr. Bolton, nephew
and heir to Lord Nelson. Her little Horatio was
a week my elder, and I have heard of the way
the two young mothers walked up and down
the room comparing their babies and their
dexterity in holding them.

My grandfather lingered till the 5 th of
December. He was greatly venerated at Cornwood,
and stories of his uprightness and beneficence
were long preserved.

His widow and her daughters went to live

37

38 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

in Plymouth, where her son James was practising
as a physician. James was a most eager impulsive
man, quick of speech, yet capable of great tender-
ness. He was a University man, and had also
studied at Edinburgh as well as London. His
ability was great, and he had at first an appoint-
ment in London. I turned up an old letter of
his father's lamenting the separation as though
he had been going to India. An opening was
offered him in Plymouth, and being unable to
decide between the two, he actually wrote, sealed,
and addressed two letters of acceptance, put
them both in his pocket, and posted the first
that came to hand without knowing which it
was. It turned out to be the Plymouth one,
and he settled there, succeeding his uncle, Charles
Yonge. He married his cousin, Margaret
Crawley (for the Crawleys were far too much
addicted to marriages among cousins), and (his
sister) Catharina Yonge had married the Rev.
Charles Crawley, another of the children of Sir
Thomas Crawley of Flaxley Abbey, Gloucester-
shire.

Soon after their father's death, Mrs. George
Crawley (Charlotte) astonished every one by
marrying Dr. Jones, the Rector of Exeter College,
Oxford, and the next sister, Susan, who had lived
with her old uncle Charles . in Plymouth, married
an odd old man named Jerome Roach, who had
been something in the Navy, and about whom

n AUTOBIOGRAPHY 39

it was the fashion to laugh and tell stories. I
only remember two — namely, that he would not
go and see the Breakwater because he had seen
the Bay of Naples ; and the other, that having
occasion to go to Child's Bank, he boasted of
having inquired after Mrs. Child and the family
by way of making himself agreeable. Anne,
the youngest daughter, was alone left to Mrs.
Duke Yonge. She was a very noble -looking
woman, very tall, with fine features, dark eyes,
and jet-black hair, and the sweetest voice and
expression. Soon after the sad move was made
from Cornwood she was thrown from her horse,
while staying at Puslinch. She thought herself
unhurt, and came down to dinner and played a
game at chess in the evening, but that night
became ill from concussion of the brain, and was
for weeks fearfully ill. The room was dark, but
to her sharpened senses the gilt picture-frames
were like lines of burning light, and she could
hear her brother's horse on the hill when nearly
a mile off. She recovered at last, though never
to be so strong again, and went with her mother
to live in Plymouth.

A bit of building ground had been bought
there by my uncles Duke and James, and some
others. A crescent was partly built, of which
Dr. Yonge's house was to be the centre, with
a garden sloping up behind to Mount Pleasant,,
his mother's abode.

40 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

About this time she too met with an accident.
Falling over a footstool she broke her thigh.
She was told that if she spent a year in bed
the bones might join, for the fracture was too
high up to be set, but she was too active to
brook this, and for some sixteen years longer moved
about briskly with her gold-headed stick and her
daughter's arm.

All this nearly completes the events that took
place before I remember anything.

I come now to what I can myself remember,
either fully, or with such additions that I cannot
distinguish recollection from tradition. Let me
first describe the place.

Otterbourne lies about four miles to the
south-west of Winchester on what used to be
the main road from London to Southampton.
It is a long straggling parish, about ^^ miles in
length from north-east to south-east, and in most
places not more than half or three-quarters of
a mile in width.

The river Itchen bounds it on the east, and
most likely the chief population lay near it, for
the old church and the two principal farms were
close to the river, one being called the Manor
Farm and possessing an old house encircled on
all sides by a moat, besides possessing a curious
picture painted on a panel above the chimney-
piece, representing apparently a battle between
Turks and Austrians.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 41

Habitation had, however, drifted away from
this spot, and the chief population had come to
be round the turnpike road. It is just where
the chalk downs meet the gravel and forest
country of South Hants, and the actual village
stands on a bed of clay at the junction of the
chalk to the north and the gravel to the south,
a gravel hill rising steeply to the south, a chalk
one more gradually on the Winchester side.
In the bottom flows a beautiful clear stream,
rising in a clear deep hole called Pool or Pole
Hole, and falling into the Itchen. It has no real
name, though we used to call it the Otter, and
a smaller tributary to the Itchen in the next
valley was called by a friend of ours the Scratchen.

My grandmother's house was in the midst of
the village — as a lady said contemptuously, "just
opposite the Green Man," not that it was the
Green Man, but the White Horse. The house
had been a mere cottage inhabited by an old dame
called Science Dear (I believe from researches in
the register that Scientia was supposed to represent
Sancha). It had been bought by one Mr. Harley,^
a friend of the reformer Cobbett, who had planted
various choice trees about it — mostly much too
near the house, so that they have had to be cleared
away, and the only survivors now (1877) are a
hickory nut, and a fine tree which the tradition of
the place calls a sugar maple, but which is evidently

1 I think there was an intermediate proprietor named White. — C. M. Y.

42 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

no such thing. The hedges likewise still bear
witness to Cobbett's desire to fill them with robinias
— for which his successors are not thankful.

Magdalen College, Oxford, owns most of the
property in Otterbourne, and Mrs. Dear and Mr.
Harley were only copy-holders ; but wanting to
throw out a bay-window, Mr. Harley bought enough
of the freehold land behind the j house for it to
stand on, and afterwards three little fields were
bought and thrown into one, the hedgerow trees
in the middle being allowed to grow into very fine
oaks. A walk was made in the hedgerow round
the field, a pleasant woodland walk, bordered on
one side by a deep hollow called Dell Copse, formed,
tradition says, by the digging of clay to make
bricks for the intended P^alace which Charles II.
designed to build at Winchester. It was over-
grown with hazels and other brushwood, and the
upper end was always full of daffodils in the spring
— large detachments of which grew in our demesne.
Oh, those daffodils, with glistening golden bells
set in lighter calyxes ! One of my first distinct
recollections is of having on a little checked cambric
tippet with a frill at the throat, and rushing to
disport myself among the daffodils.^

A quarter of a mile of lane led to the church,
which stood beside the " Otter." The large
churchyard was belted round with fine elms, and

^ She loved them to her life's end, and also the " quiet meads " of which
she here speaks.

u AUTOBIOGRAPHY 43

formed a mound on which stood the small old
Hampshire Church. It had probably once been
a fabric of some beauty, for the doorway had a
good Early English border, and there were traces
of foliage in some fragments of the heads of the
windows. The three arches between the chancel
and nave were of good outline, but that was all.
It must have been cruelly knocked about, for the
tracery was gone out of the east window, and was
but a compromise in the west. The two bells
were in a brown weather-boarded tower at the
west end, and were rung from a gallery, where
all the young men sat, and protruded their knees
through the rails. There was an inner pew railed
off for the singers, accompanied by flutes and a
bassoon, and the great bass voice belonged to one
old John Green, with very marked black eyebrows,
which he used to cock up in turn at the most effective
parts of his performance, such as in the 95th Psalm
(Tate and Brady), when the repetition went on —

" The strength of hills that reach the skies
Subjected to — ■
Subjected to —
Subjected to Thine Empire lies."

or again,

" Shall fix the place where we must dwell,
The pride of Ja —
The pride of J a —
The pride of Jacob his delight."

There were two anthems which came on great
occasions, of which I can only recollect that one

44 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

came out of Isaiah xli., and the other ended with
frequent Hallelujahs, which brought every one to
their feet who had sat through the rest of the
singing.

We sat in a gallery on the north side at right
angles to that of the singers, and entered by a
door of our own, or rather which we shared with
two other occupants of the gallery, and approached
by a step ladder outside, studded all over with nails
to prevent slipping.

" Law, Ma'am, how do you ever manage with
your nice white tails on a wet Sunday ? " said
Betsy Comely, the female blacksmith, to my mother.
But " white tails " were less long then than now

(1877).

Our division of the gallery had a bench round

it, and was a good deal like a box at a theatre,

except that being the first in the row it was

enclosed to the height of its book-board on the

eastern side.

Even now, I believe, my normal idea of church

is as I saw it from a stand on two hassocks in the

middle of the pew. To my right was the singing

gallery, with the mysterious attraction of John

Green's eyebrows ; opposite was the door, under

a deep picturesque porch with seats on each side

of it. Over it inside was the text " My house

shall be called," etc. in black with a black line

round. Over the chancel arch was " When the

wicked man," etc., and over that again in the gable,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 45

resting on a great beam, was the biggest Royal
Arms I ever saw. The board on which they were
painted could not have been less than five feet
square. It bore in its corners the letters W and M,
and (I think) the date 1689, and it must have been
painted in an ebullition of Orange zeal by one who
was not a herald, for no notice was taken of the
arms of Nassau, and the shield was quartered
England and France above, Ireland and Scotland
below, as I never saw elsewhere. The unicorn
as usual looked abject in spite of his splendid
twisted horn, and the opposite lion hung his tongue
out of his mouth like a pug dog. The little fore-
shortened lion on top of the crown cost me an
immense amount of study.

Outside the chancel arch were the pulpit and
reading-desk, the former only to be approached
through the latter, beside, not behind it. The
Clerk's pew was behind the desk. The Clerk,
George Oxford, was not old in years, but crippled
with rheumatism. He had a beautiful meek face,
and was a most good old man, with a mighty voice,
wherewith he used to announce vestry meetings,
also, " I hereby give notice that service at this
church will be at half-past two as long as the winter
days are short."

As soon as the Thanksgiving began. Master
Oxford would be heard shuffling and stumping the
whole length of the nave, and up the stairs to the
gallery, behind our servants' pew. He emerged into

46 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

the gallery in time to say " Amen," and making
his way across to the singers' division, was landed
there by the end, in time to give out the Psalm.
In the afternoon the first singing followed the
Second Lesson, which gave him a good long time
to be on his travels. He stayed with the singers
till after the second performance, and then came
down again. He could not walk without a stick, but
he used to carry a long switch besides to chastise ill
behaviour. The children sat on a single line of
low backless benches in the aisle, and a plain white
marble font was near the west end. Tradition said
that it was given by a former clerk, and a rough
old stone basin was hidden away under the stairs.

Into the chancel I could not see, except the
angles of two great pews, one for the Squire of
Cranbury. It had two blue yellow-lettered Tables
of Commandments, and the texts from i Corin-
thians about the Holy Eucharist, and a shabby rail.
Elderly men chiefly sat on benches outside these
pews, and boys on the step. The church was
pewed throughout with dark wood, a good deal of
it oak, and people's names had at one time been
painted on the doors. Mrs. Dear's was on that
where our servants sat, the most horrible cupboard
of all under the gallery.

In this church, service was once on Sunday,
alternately morning and afternoon. The bells
were set going when the clergyman was seen at
the turn of the lane. My father, when newly

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 47

arrived, asked what time it would be, and was
answered, " At half-past ten or eleven, sir, or else
at no time at all." This did not mean that there
would be none, but that it would be at no regular
marked hour.

There had been no resident clergyman for many
years past. Bishop John de Pontissara gave the
great tithes of Hursley to the Chapter at Win-
chester, and then added the little parish of
Otterbourne to the Vicarage of Hursley. The
patronage went with Hursley Park, and belonged
to the Heathcote family. Archdeacon Gilbert
Heathcote was then the Vicar, and either he or
his curate used to ride over for service on Sunday.
I have heard old women speak of standing out to
catch him when there was need of a private
baptism.

I cannot definitely remember the church-going
in those days, only that my father used to walk to
one of the neighbouring parishes for a second
service, and my mother to read the Psalms and
lessons with her Sunday School. I went so early
to church that I cannot recollect the first time,
though I have a dim remembrance of picking out
the capitals in the Prayer-Book before I could read,
which I know I could do at four years old. The
first clergyman I really recollect in church was the
first resident curate, the Rev. Robert Shuckburgh,
who came to live here either in the last years of
the Archdeacon, or the first years of his son, the

48 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Rev. Gilbert Wall Heathcote. Mr. Shuckburgh
was a very good but very odd man. He pro-
nounced all his vowels aa alike — like Titus Gates
in Peveril of the Peak — to my sorrow, for I caught
it off him, and for many years never could under-
stand why people laughed at my way of speaking.
He never went to the altar for the Ante-Com-
munion, but read it in the reading-desk. Then he
used to take off his surplice in the desk, hang it
over the connecting door, and reveal the black
gown below, in which he mounted the pulpit. It
must have been in 1826 that my mother began her
Sunday School. It was in operation when I first
remember anything, but recent, and held in a
cottage room, where she taught chiefly from Mrs.
Trimmer, and Grossman's Questions on the Church
Catechism. Some of her first scholars are still
alive, and talk of her affectionately. The only
weekly school was kept on the hill by an old danie,
Mrs. Yates, exactly like Shenstone's village school-
mistress, who used to sit in her chimney corner, in
a black silk Quaker-shaped bonnet (the regular garb
for old women), a buff handkerchief folded over her
dark blue gown, and a rod in her hand. She taught
nothing, and was incapable of improvement.^ One
day my mother was looking at an odd bit of
ground, originally; the roadway which led into one
of the fields that had been thrown into our lawn ;

1 Miss Yonge reproduces this early state of things in her tale The
Carbonels.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 49

she exclaimed, " I wish I could build a school here."
" So you shall," said grandmamma, and it was
done. Not such a school as government would
require now ; it was contrived by my father, and
had mud walls cemented over a brick floor, and was
of only one story, a tiny bedroom and kitchen
being joined on behind. The mistress, poor
woman, was an old servant of Mrs. Heathcote's,
who had, like Katharine of Aragon, married, or
thought she married, two brothers, and had been
cast off by the second. She had pretty black eyes,
a bad leg, and nice manners, and was ludicrously
incapable of keeping order ; but she could teach
reading and needle-work, and there was a fiction
that those who paid 3d. per week learnt writing
and arithmetic ; but my life - long friend and
servant, Harriet Spratt, who was one of her
scholars, says that all her sums were done for her
by a clever girl called Sarah Simmonds. The
Sunday teaching was my mother's, and though she
had to feel her way and teach herself, many a
woman still goes back to what " Mrs. Yonge told
me," and it has been referred to on death-beds.

The parish was agricultural, of between 600 and
700 inhabitants, and divided into about six chief
farms, the land and houses being held on all sorts
of tenures, chiefly of Magdalen College, Oxford.
Mrs. Bargus and her daughter were warned when
they first came, " Have nothing to do with the
Otterbourne poor, they are a most ungrateful set."

E

50 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

This has certainly not been the family experience,
now verging on sixty years. - But the people had
till then been entirely neglected. The old poor
law had absolutely discouraged much industry and
independence, and from what I remember there
must have been a very low standard of morality
and decency.^ There was a " poor-house " which
was a receptacle for all that would not or could not
support itself, containing a family of nine with a
lazy father, and an old man named Strong who
used to profess to eat vipers, and beg for a bit of
bacon to cook them with ; also other very rough
and far from respectable inmates who used to revile
one another when any gift was bestowed on one.
Few of the elders of the parish could read, and it
was still easy never to learn.

But there were very good people among the
poor even then, who had gone on quietly, and were
thankful for help. Some regular church-goers
there were, and I never heard anything like the
kind of natural chant in which their voices swelled
in the responses.

Such were the surroundings in which my father
had been set down in all the vigour of twenty-seven.
He was a remarkably handsome man, nearly six
feet high, and very strong, with dark keen eyes,
with the most wonderful power both for sweetness
and for sternness that I ever knew. Watt's line

1 The standard of morality in Otterbourne is far above that of an average
village now (1902).

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 51

" He keeps me by His eye " is almost explained to
me by the power those eyes had over me. I loved
their approval and their look of affection, and
dreaded their displeasure more than anything else.
Even now, when for twenty-three years they have
been closed, to think of their beaming smile seems
to me to recall my greatest happiness, of their
warning glance my chief dread and shame.

He was grave, and external observers feared
him, and thought him stern, but oh, how tender
he could be, how deeply and keenly he felt !

His great characteristic was thoroughness. He
could not bear to do anything, or see anything done
by halves. " Be not ignorant of anything in a
great matter or a small," and " Whatsoever things
are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever
things are of good report, think on these things,"
always seem to me to be his mottoes.

Whatever he took in hand, he carried out to the
utmost and was undaunted in the pursuit, whether
it was the building of a church, the fortification of
Portsmouth, or the lining of a work-box, or the
teaching his little girl to write. All alike he
did with all his might ; and when busy in really
important works, he would still give his whole
attention for the time being to the smallest feminine
commissions at the county town.

A religious man from his youth up according
to the old orthodoxy, he was always under strong
self-discipline, far sterner to himself than to others,

52 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

giving up indulgences and pleasures without a
word, and sacrificing his own comfort and enjoy-
ment continually, as I now see, though I little
guessed it then. An eager sportsman and fisher-
man, he dropped both shooting and fishing except
on his holidays in Devonshire, because he thought
they wasted time, and he wished not to awaken the
passion for them in his son. The yearly visits to
Devon, the delight of his heart, were sacrificed while
the church building absorbed his spare means ; he
gave up snuff (which was to men then what smoking
is now), because he thought it a selfish indulgence ;
he was most abstemious, drinking only water in hopes
of averting hereditary gout ; and busy and hard-
worked as he came to be, he never had a sitting-
room to himself, while his dressing-room was as
severely confined to the absolute necessaries of life
as a Spartan could wish. Withal he was a great
buyer of books and fancier of bindings, collected
engravings, and had earlier in life bought a few
valuable pictures, which at this time were still in
the keeping of his mother at Plymouth, partly
because he would not strip her of them, and partly
because Mrs. Bargus, who had had a narrower
education, would have thought them an extravagant
purchase; and out of the same consideration for her,
he kept out of sight his later acquisition of La
MusSe Napoleonne, four huge volumes of engravings
from the Louvre of the First Empire.

Always kind and considerate and forbearing to

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 53

the weak, he got on perfectly well with grand-
mamma, who was always mistress of the house.
When I first remember him, the real work of his
life had not been found, and he was employing
himself as his active mind could best find occupation
— carpentering, gardening, and getting the little bit
of farm into order ; also acting as parish doctor, for
before the new poor law, medical advice was almost
inaccessible to the poor. There was supposed to
be a parish doctor, but as he had no pay he never
attended to any one even seriously ill, and for slight
ailments there was no one. So with knowledge
refreshed by his brother James, and the family
medical instinct, also with Buchan's Domestic
Medicine and a Pharmacopoeia, he and my mother
doctored the parish, ay, and their children's little
maladies, quite successfully.-^ The cure that my
mother used to boast of was of a certain old Little-
field whom the doctor had visited, but did nothing
for, so his daughter came saying, " Dr. Lyford said
he could do nothing for un, for his liver wasn't
no bigger than a pigeon's egg, but they might
give him an imposing draught."

The " imposing draught " sent him was a dose of
calomel, etc., and he lived at least ten years after.
My mother was — as I always remember her, for
she altered little — a small woman, with very small

I This is a very fine picture of making the best of circumstances, but an
outsider must feel that the arrangements were very hard on the clever young
officer of twenty-seven.

54 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

delicate hands and feet, and fine-grained skin, but
a want of clearness of complexion, soft but scanty
brown hair, dark blue eyes, a very perfectly made
mouth, an aquiline nose, and a contour of face
resembling both those of Princess Charlotte and
of the Queen.^ She never had good health, and
was capable of little exertion in the way of walking,
though her mind and energies were most active,
and she could not bear to be a minute idle, knitting
almost as quickly and unconsciously as she breathed,
reading while she worked, and always earnest in
some pursuit. She was always nervous, timid, and
easily frightened, and though she controlled herself,
excitement told in after illness. Her tears were near
the surface, and so were her smiles. She was full
of playfulness and mirth, but most eager and en-
thusiastic, yet always within due bounds ; she studied
and thought a good deal, and was an ever ready
assistant in all my father's plans, comprehending
rapidly, delighted to work with and for him, and in
fact a perfect companion and helpmeet to him. She
used to say how much happier her married life was
than her childhood had ever been, and I fancy she
was much younger at thirty than she had been at
fifteen.^

Grandmamma was a very pretty little old woman ;
I do not think her daughter had ever been so pretty.
She grew smaller with age, and had a light, firm

1 I have heard it said that Miss Yonge was like Queen Victoria.
^ This nervous temperament was inherited by her daughter.

II AUTOBIOGRAPHY 55

step, with which she was always trotting about,
ordering dinner, putting out stores from a store-
room in the attics, feeding her chickens, cutting
cabbages and thrusting them in at cottage windows,
conversing with old women, always cheery and kind,
and, I think, the most beloved and popular of all
the family. She used to be familiar with every-
body, and talk over the counter to the shopkeepers
in a way that stuck-up youth could not bear, but
she was a perfect lady, held her own, and was much
looked up to. I remember old Jacob the book-
seller, a fine white-haired old man, coming out
quite in a transport when she drew up at his shop
door at Winchester, after a long absence.

These were the immediate surroundings which I
first recollect. I do not recollect so far back as some
people do. I have a hazy remembrance of a green
spelling-book, and the room where I read a bit of
it to some unaccustomed person. It must have been
while I was very young, for I could read to myself
at four years old, and I perfectly recollect the
pleasure of finding I could do so, kneeling by a
chair on which was spread a beautiful quarto edition
of Robinson Crusoe, whose pictures I was looking
at while grandmamma read the newspaper aloud to
my mother. I know the page, in the midst of the
shipwreck narrative, where to my joy I found my-
self making out the sense.

Otherwise I can hardly date my earlier recol-
lections. Mine was too happy and too uneventful

56 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

a childhood to have many epochs, and it has only-
one sharp line of era in it, namely, my brother's birth
when I was six and a half. I can remember best by
what happened before, and what happened after.

Young parents of much ability and strong sense
of duty were sure to read and think much of the
education of an only child, as I was for so long.
The Edgeworth system (as I now know) chiefly
influenced them, though modified by religion and
good sense. It was not spoiling. There was
nothing to make me think myself important ; I was
repressed when I was troublesome, made to be
obedient or to suffer for it, and was allowed few
mere indulgences in eating and drinking, and no
holidays. And yet I say it deliberately, that except
for my occasional longings for a sister, no one ever
had a happier or more joyous childhood than mine.
I have since had reason to know that I was a very
pretty and clever child, or at any rate that my mother
thought me so, but I really never knew whether I was
not ugly. I know I thought myself so, and I was
haunted occasionally by doubts whether I were not
deficient, till I was nearly grown up. My mother
said afterwards that I once asked her if I was pretty,
and she replied that all young creatures were, i.e.
the little pigs. Once when some one praised my
chestnut curls, I set every one laughing by replying
indignantly, " You flatter me," having my head full
of the flattering lady in Miss Edgeworth's Frank.
Great hazel eyes, and thick, rich, curling hair, cut

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 57

rather short, were my best points, for my skin was
always brown, and never had much colour.^

My nature was eager, excitable, and at that time
passionate. The worst passions I remember were
excited by a housemaid named Sarah, who used to
sit at work in the nursery, and beg my nurse Mason
to repeat " the last dying speech and confession of
poor Puss," in Original Poems, because I could not
bear that doleful ditty, and used to stamp and roll
on the floor to put a stop to it. Sarah was very
good-natured though, she gave me a doll, and when
I made a flight of steps to jump down — a chest of
drawers, a chair, and a stool — she followed my lead,
and jumped with such effect that all the legs of the
stool spread out flat on the floor. I think it was
found out that she was not a safe companion for me,
for she did not stay long.

My nursery would frighten a modern mother.
It was like a little passage room, at »the back of
the house, with a birch-tree just before the window,
a wooden crib for me, and a turn-up press bed for
my nurse ; and it also answered the purpose of work-
room for the maids. But I did not live much in it.
I was one of the family breakfast party, and dined
at luncheon so early that I cannot remember when
I began, and never ate in the nursery except my
supper. Breakfast and supper were alike dry
bread and milk. I so much disliked the hot bowl

1 The self-distrust engendered by this mode of education was a drawback
to Charlotte through life.

58 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

of boiled milk and cubes of bread that I was
allowed to have mine separately, but butter was
thought unwholesome, and I believe it would have
been so, for I never have been able to eat it
regularly. As to eggs, ham, jam, and all the rest,
no one dreamt of giving them to children. Indeed
my mother made a great point of never letting me
think that it was any hardship to see other people
eating of what I did not partake, and I have been
grateful for the habits she gave me ever since.

I remember my indignation when a good-natured
housemaid, who thought me cruelly treated, brought
up a plateful of slices with the buttered side turned
downwards. With conscious pride and honour, I
denounced the deceit. I wonder whether the strict
obedience edified her, or whether she thought me a
horrid little ungrateful tell-tale.^

I was a great chatterbox at all times, and got a
great many snubs. One which I do not remember
was from Dr. Thomas Vowler Short, then Rector
of Kingsworthy, who was dining at our house,
and in the firelight before dinner said, " Little
girls should be seen and not heard. Now I hear
a little girl, but I don't see her." I believe Mr.
Keble, then Curate of Hursley, was at that party,
and that Dr. Short, who was strangely like a hedge-
hog, put out all his prickles, and tried to tease the
poet by declaring that he could not think what was
to be admired in a rose, etc. But I do not remember

' It was a very characteristic proceeding.

n AUTOBIOGRAPHY 59

them at this time, nor much of any visitors, except
that Mr. Griffiths, a brother-officer of my father,
used to carry me on his shoulder to gather laburnum
and lilacs ; and another, Captain Bentham, tried to
teach me to sing —

I've been roaming, I've been roaming
Where the meadow dew is sweet,
I'm returning, I'm returning
With its pearls upon my feet.

He signally failed, as did every one else who tried
to impart any music to me.

Sir John Colborne was sent out as Governor of
Canada, and came to take leave April 5, 1828, but
all I recollect is the long legs in white trousers of
his eldest son James, who accompanied him.

My great world was indoors with my dolls, who
were my children and my sisters ; out of doors
with an imaginary family of ten boys and eleven
girls who lived in an arbour.^ My chief doll, a big
wooden one. Miss Eliza by name, was a prize for
hemming my first handkerchief. The said handker-
chief had on it the trial of Queen Caroline, weeping
profusely in a hat and feathers, and was presented
to my contemporary cousin Duke, at Puslinch,
where it survived for many years as a bag.

There were about sixteen dolls, large wooden,
small wax, and tiny Dutch, who used to be set on
chairs along the nursery, and do their lessons when
I had finished mine. They did not come down-

' From these children sprang the Mohuns, Mays, and Merrifields.

6o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

stairs except by special permission, and when left
about in the drawing-room were put into what was
called the pillory, a place boarded between the
balusters at the turn of the staircase, whence they
were not released till the next morning.

The two ungratified wishes of those days were
for a large wax doll, and a china doll's service. I
was seriously told the cost, and that it was not
right to spend so much money on a toy when so
many were in need of food and clothes.

It was absolutely true that my father and mother
had very little ready money, and that they did
spend as much as they possibly could on the many
needs of the [poor. No doubt this gave the lesson
reality, for it has always served me as a warning
against selfish personal expenditure.

My only real trouble was terrors just like what
other solitary or imaginative children have — horrors
of darkness, fancies of wolves, one most gratuitous
alarm recurring every night of being smothered
like the Princes in the Tower, or blown up with
gunpowder. In the daylight I knew it was non-
sense, I would have spoken of it to no one, but the
fears at night always came back.

I knew nothing of ghosts, no one ever mentioned
them to me, but the nervous fright could not have
been more even if I had been nurtured on them.
But I am an arrant coward by nature, both physically
and morally, and confess myself to have been always
one of those who " die a thousand deaths " in

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 6i

imagination, and suffer all manner of anticipations
of evil for self and friends.^

A certain Lord Boringdon, son of Lord Morley,
was killed by a beard of barley getting into his
throat. I was told of this as a warning when I was
biting bits of grass, and for many years really
thought my uvula was such a bit of grass and
would be the death of me.^

I will just copy here the notes I find in an old
agenda of my mother's on my studies and progress
in this period.

Jan. 7, 1828. — Charlotte began Fabulous Hist-
ories (i.e. Mrs. Trimmer's Robin, Dicky, Flapsy,
and Pecksy. I loved them, though the book is
one of the former generation — pale type, long s's,
ct joined together. I have it still).

Jan. 27. — " Why did Pharaoh think his dreams
were alike when one was about cattle, and the
other about cows ? " C. " Because the fat ate up
the lean of both." " Was there anything else in
which they were alike ? " C. " Oh why, mamma,
seven and seven."

July 5. — Charlotte said, " Mamma, how do the
men that write the newspaper know of all the
things that occur?" {N.B. — I had a passion for
fine words.)

1 She once said that Mr. Keble told her that " forecasting '' was the price
she had to pay for having an imagination.

^ Many children brought up with Plymouth servants knew and feared
this tradition.

62 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

-^^i^' 3- — Ch. began Sandford and Merton.
(This means for lessons.)

Sept. II, — Charlotte saw a picture of the Fire
King some time ago at the Southampton Gallery,
and to-day she said she thought if he rode in a wax
chariot he would be melted.

Sept. 26. — Asked C. why Miss Blunder was
laughed at for saying that if she went to France it
should be by land. She answered, " Why, mamma,
she couldn't make a ' waal of waater.' "

Dec. 19. — C. began Rollin's Ancient History
(It lasted r^^ years, but it was excellent for me; I
am very glad I read so real a book.)

Dec. 28. — Sunday. C. began Trimmer's Sacred
History.

March 20. — It is noted that C. has done since
the ist of August 1016 lessons ; 537 very well, 442
well, 37 badly. Reading, spelling, poetry, one
hour every day ; geography, arithmetic, grammar,
twice a week ; history and catechism, once.

Steady work this for a mother to have gone
through in six months. The computation was from a
card on which a mark was put for each lesson ; I had
prizes accordingly. Writing was deferred from a
theory that it would cramp my hand to begin so soon.

The real zest and joy of existence to me was,
however, in the yearly visit to Devonshire. I was
happy at home, but it was with calm, solitary
happiness ; there no one but myself was a native

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 63

of the land of childhood. The dear home people
gave me all they could, but they could not be
children themselves, and oh, the bliss of that
cousinland to me !

We used to go every autumn, all but grand-
mamma, in the chariot with post-horses, sleeping
either one or two nights on the road. The chariot
was yellow, sulphur yellow, lined with dark blue,
with yellow blinds and horrid blue and yellow lace.
I was always giddy, often sick, in a close carriage,
and the very sight of that blue and yellow lace
made me worse, but it was willingly endured for
the joys beyond. And there were delights. Papa
read me the Perambulations of a Mouse on one of
those journeys. Then there was a game in which
each counted the animals at the windows on each
side, and the first to reach 100 was the winner, or
the game was gained by the sight of a cat looking
out of the window. In the sword-case we carried
our provision of hard eggs, biscuits, and, as it was
called from a mistake of mine, " spotted meat."
We used to eat this in the middle of the day,
and have a mutton-chop tea generally at Honiton.
Then what interest there was in rattling up to an
inn-door and having our tired horses led off, while
we watched for the next pair ridden by a spruce
post-boy, either in a blue or a yellow jacket, white
hat, corduroys, and top boots.

At last we turned down Sheepstor hill, and,
while dragging down the steepest part, over the

64 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

low wall came the square house in sight if we
came by day, or if late, the lights glancing in the
windows. Mamma used to tell of my ishriek of
ecstasy at the sight, and even now, at the very
thought, my heart swells as if it must bound at the
sight, though so many of those who made it glad
are passed away.

I feel the gales that from thee blow,
A momentary bliss bestow.

There, when the tall front door had once
opened, was all I longed for at home — the cousins
who have been all my life more than cousins,
almost brothers and sisters to me.

I have said nothing of Uncle and Aunt Yonge
(as I was taught to call them) since their marriage.
They had devoted themselves to their parish and
their children. Uncle Yonge refused all the squire
side of life, and lived as a hard-working clergyman,
far in advance of his neighbours' notions of duty.
Aunt Yonge was of homely tastes, and almost
ascetic nature as to gaiety or ornament. But how
happy a home it was ; how thoroughly good prin-
ciples and deep religious feeling were infused ; how
bright it was ! ^ Some of the other cousins called
Uncle Yonge " the father of fun," and no one
enjoyed seeing innocent happiness more.

Their full number of children was ten : John,
the eldest, died at four years old; Alethea, a

1 " Uncle Yonge " was her father's first cousin. " Aunt Yonge " was
Alethea Bargus, her mother's half-sister.

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n AUTOBIOGRAPHY 65

bright-complexioned, dear, joyous creature, born
in 1 815, used to seem to me at an awful distance.
James was a kind, special patron of mine ; we used
to call one another Jemmy Jummy, and Charlotte
Shummy. It was related that immediately after
our arrival once I was seen exalted on a locker,
with my uncle's bands on, preaching. Each
mother was shocked at her sister's permitting such
irreverence, but thought she would not begin by
blame the first moment, then found out that it was
an access of mischief which had seized us in the
excitement of meeting. I suppose we were rather
wild, for we broke a window together.

Mary, a stout, strong, helpful girl, seemed to
me one of the far-off elders. Jane — dear little
neat-handed Jenny — was more on my horizon, but
was so quiet, and removed from all roughness as
to be almost an elder. Then came Johnnie, fair,
aquiline-nosed like the Bargus's, the family pickle,
audacious, mischievous, and unmanageable. He
it was who, when tied to the great four-post bed in
the nursery, dragged it across the room. He it
was who said to the little under-nurse, " I don't
like Kitty's black bonnet," and threw it into the
fire. He it was who was the author of all daring
mischief. He had a sullen, rather whiny temper
too, and his mother treated him with unwearied
patience. My father once asked my uncle whether
it was not vain wasting of my aunt's strength to
sit quietly enduring the endless whine and dawdle

66 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

of Johnnie over his lessons. Uncle Yonge answered
that it had been the same with Alethea, and that
her mother's patience had so perfectly succeeded
that he had always resolved not to interfere.

Duke, two months older than I, was a pretty boy
with dark soft eyes and lashes. I have a dim
remembrance of those two in nankeen frocks, and
a more distinct' one of them in " monkey suits," with
jacket and waistcoat all in one, and trousers fastened
over, and white frilled collars — very hideous dress.
Poor Duke, always gentle and timid, had had an
inflammation on the lungs, and was too delicate to be
turned loose among us little tyrants. I am afraid
I joined with Johnnie in teasing him, and so did
even the younger Anne. My- dear, dear Anne,
whom I loved always with all my heart ! She was
born on Alethea's birthday, the 28th of March,
with exactly ten years between them, and was
Alethea's special child. She was square and strong,
though at six weeks old she had nearly died of the
whooping-cough — in fact, was all but dead, when
Dr. Yonge opened a vein in her foot which relieved
her. She had a wonderful pair of hazel eyes, and
was full of spirit and enterprise, which made her
the mauvais sujet of the nursery, on whom every-
body's fauhs were laid, while she had plenty of her
own.

These four were the special world of Puslinch to
me ; Edmund Charles, born on my birthday in 1827,
and Frances Elizabeth two years later, were not

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 67

yet come to the age of companionship. Indeed
what I first recollect was babyish enough. There
was one wet Sunday when all we children were
left in the house alone together all day, all down-
wards from Mary, and with the addition of Uncle
Duke's daughter, Alethea.^ The elder ones made a
tower with chairs shutting off the recessed dining-
room windows — Anne and I coupled together in
one house. They shut the shutters when it was to
be night, and opened them for day, and went about
distributing provisions in the morning. Another
sport of those days was making shops in the recesses
of the study, when Mary, hanging up a triangular
pincushion, uttered the splendid impromptu —

Hang it up to make a show,
And cut off every one's great toe,

which was considered such an effort of genius that
it became a by-word. I remember too kneeling
in the moonlight from the great windows and
pretending to gather it into our bosoms, the only
poetical thing we ever did.

Our next stage after Puslinch was Plymouth.
There " grandmamma with a stick " lived with Aunt
Anne at Mount Pleasant, whence one long garden
ran down to Uncle James's house in the Crescent.
In this house there were three children — James,
a few months older than myself, Eleanora, and
Edward, the last born in 1827. Jemmy was, it

1 Duke Yonge of Antony in Cornwall.

68 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

seems to me, my greatest cousin friend ; we used to
play in the garden, walk together on the Hoe and
on the slip of beach below that then was fit for
children to enjoy, and confide to each other our
views of life. Then on Sundays we went to church
at St. Andrew's Chapel, a wonderful building.
It was a parallelogram, with such windows and
ornaments in the Greek honeysuckle pattern stick-
ing up like ears at the top ! The pews in the
central block were deal, painted white, narrow beyond
belief, up to the neck of even grown up people, and
provided with ingenious sloping traps to prevent
any one from kneeling down. In one of these
suffocating pews I — a little creature of five or six —
once fainted, or nearly so, and my father made me a
stool to stand on so as to bring my head within reach
of air, and left it to Jemmy when we went away.
There was evening service there, and once I went
to it in a sedan - chair with grandmamma, who
always went thus at night, though I think by day
she walked with an arm.

From Plymouth we always went on to Antony,
Uncle Duke's home, on the other side of the
Torpoint ferry across the Tamar. There was no
steam ferry in those days, one went in an open
boat. There was a big ferry-boat to take horses,
and in this grandmamma used to cross, not getting
out of her carriage because of her lameness, but my
mother did not like the crossing with the horses, so
we always went in another boat. I remember our

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 69

rowing once under the San Josef, one of the
Trafalgar prizes, and looking up as it rose, like a
mighty castle above us.

But there was one crossing rather late on an
autumn day, when the water was rough, and a lady
with us cried out, " We shall all be upset," when I
shrieked out gleefully, " Oh then we shall catch a
fish." It is odd that I cannot in the least recollect
this, though I do remember how, having been sent on
with the maids to walk while my father and mother
waited for the carriage, we were overtaken in the
dark and picked up, and I made every one laugh
again by saying " I'm as wet as a shag."

I was not as happy at Antony as at Puslinch or
Plymouth. The cousins were all much older except
Arthur, who was only two or three years above me,
and teasing was the family fashion. Cordelia, the
eldest daughter, was really grown up, and the other,
Alethea, then called Missy, a very handsome, dark,
high-spirited creature, seven years older than I,
appropriated me as a plaything, domineered over
me, and dragged me about till I felt like the plough-
man whom the giant's daughter stole for her toy.
Jane, of Puslinch, coming here for part of our stay,
did something to protect me, being more used to
small children than Missy, but it must have been
great discomfort, for I remember some time after
we had been at home again mamma explaining
forgiveness, as what I ought to feel as to Missy's
teasing of me.

70 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

There were dark cupboards too, and a mysterious
door where something was supposed to live, and
cracks in the old plaster which Arthur used to
tell me betokened that the house would fall. And
in the distance was seen a tower called Trematon
Castle, where wedged into some narrow place the
skeleton of a cat had been found with the skeleton of
a mouse in her mouth. Somehow my flesh crept at
Antony, and I was in terror both of body and mind.

Still there were charms. The nursery was
papered from ceiling to floor with pictures cut
out of nursery -books. The nurse, Jane Blackler,
had some purple and gold plates which we thought
the ne plus ultra of beauty, and above all there
was Whitsand Bay, about a mile and a half off.
It was then a really solitary bit of waste, a cliff
descending from a field. There was a rough
path leading to an exquisite beach of white sand,
over which curled and dashed waves from the
Atlantic, bringing in razor shells, tellinas of a
delicate pink, cockles, and mactras. It was the
most delicious place that I ever knew, and to
this hour a windy night will make me dream
of the roll and dash of its waves and the delight
of those sands.

Then " Uncle and Aunt Duke " were very kind,
merry, engaging people, who loved to promote
happiness, and lived such an easy-going scrambling
life that they were said to be found dining at
any hour from eleven to eight o'clock.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 71

Antony was our farthest point, thence we
worked back to Puslinch, the happiest place of
all, and the most free from all teasing or
quarrelling. Such teasing as there was was very-
mild. It consisted in exasperating me by calling
Otterbourne Hoberton, which I received as an
insult, and in terrifying me by rattling the shot
belts in the study. Also in tormenting Duke by
calling him " Sweet Honey," because he particularly
disliked it.

The visit of 1829 ended in a dinner-party, of
which my personal share was following Johnnie
in a raid on the sweet things when they came
out of the dining-room.

In the morning came the half- understood
tidings that my aunt had become very unwell
in the course of the evening, and had been found
to have the measles. My mother had never had
them, so she and I were instantly sent off without
seeing another person in the house to Yealmpton,
where lived my Uncle Yonge's mother, old Mrs.
Yonge of Puslinch, with her daughter, Marianne,
and son, Edmund, the sailor. She was very
deaf, and I used to call her " grandmamma with
the trumpet," and think I had three grandmammas.

Their house on a steep sloping hill-side was
little more than a cottage, with a terrace and a
delightful garden running down into an orchard,
and then to a green gate opening into a meadow,
with the Yealm running through it. But kind

72 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.h

as Aunt Marianne was, it was a banishment, and
we were only released from quarantine to go
home as soon as it was certain we had no disease
about us.

Meantime my aunt had barely recovered before
her youngest child sickened. All the nine had
it one by one, and the fire was not out in her
bedroom for six weeks, while she nursed them
all there. They all recovered, though I fancy
there was some permanent harm done to Frances,
but my aunt never did shake off the effects ; I don't
know the exact nature of her illness, but I think
it was some affection of spine or brain, for she
never was well again, lay on her bed for a year,
and was thought to be relieved by constantly
having an issue in her back. Still she was
the wise, efficient, all-ruling mother. Her eldest
daughter, Alethea, became her father's out-of-
doors companion and active manager. Mary, at
twelve or thirteen, developed her wonderful powers
as a nurse, soon took the nurse Harvey's place
in the daily dressing of the back, and began that
precious ministry in which her life has been spent,
yet without losing the spirits of her age.

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CHAPTER III

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

On the 31st of January 1830 came the greatest
event of my life : my only brother was born. He
came with rather short notice, and I remember the
being left in the dark in my crib and the puzzled
day that ensued. I believe my mother would not
have me know the fact till she could see me herself,
and soon after breakfast my father took me out to
walk across the down to Twyford. There was a
deep snow, I had not been properly equipped to
encounter it, and though he carried me part of the
way I arrived with bitterly cold hands, and when
brought to the fire first knew the sensation of
aching with cold.

The fire was at the Rev. Charles Shipley's. He
had just come to live in a house of his own with his
charming wife, and his children about my own age.
Anna Maria and Conway Shipley were the first
friends I had besides my cousins, so that in every
way that cold day was an era.

When I came home, well wrapped up by kind Mrs.
Shipley, I was allowed to hear of my brother, and

73

74 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

to see him. I wished him to be called Alexander
Xenophon, but was not allowed to hear his name
till his christening, when it proved to be Julian
Bargus, the first of which had been chosen from the
Duke pedigree, when it was brought out to suggest
a name for Edmund Charles.

It may mark the ebb-tide of church-like customs
that Mr. Shuckburgh had just found out that
christenings ought to be after the Second Lesson,
and wanted to begin with him ; but Mr. Shuckburgh
was so uncertain and queer that there was no
certainty that he would ever have done the same
again, and it was feared that it would be thought a
showing off of " the young squire," as the poor
women called him. So he was christened on a
week-day, with Mr. and Mrs. Shipley and my father
representing his sponsors, the uncle and aunt at
Puslinch and Richard Bogue. Both he and I were
christened by Mr. Westcombe, who was so afraid
of forgetting the sex of the child that he com-
promised matters by calling both sexes "it."

The regular lesson life soon began again, the
chief novelty being that my father undertook to
teach me to write, thinking that a free hand would
be of great service in drawing. He made me write,
not pot-hooks, but huge S S S in chalk on a slate,
without resting finger, wrist, or even arm. Between
incapacity and carelessness I shed many tears over
the process, but I gained much ease from it, and
even now I feel the benefit in the manner of holding

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 75

pen and hand, which saves me much cramping
and fatigue. From that time he began to teach
me some part of my studies. He was the most
exact of teachers, and required immense attention
and accuracy, growing rather hot and loud when
he did not meet with it, but rewarding real
pains with an approval that was always to me
the sweetest of pleasures. Being an innate sloven
and full of lazy inaccuracy I provoked him often
and often, and often was sternly spoken to, and
cried heartily, but I had a Jack-in-the-box temper,
was up again in a moment, and always loved
and never feared my work with him. So we
rubbed on with increasing comfort in working
together, well deserved by his wonderful patience
and perseverance.^

That summer of 1830 he was called to the
death-bed of his brother Charles at Eton. Charles
Yonge was the chief scholar of the family, and as
full of fun as his brother Duke, not tall and dark
like the others, but slender and light-complexioned.
After going through Eton and King's, he had become
a master at Eton, and was greatly looked up to.
Bishops Selwyn and Harold Browne and the Rev.
Edward Coleridge had been among his pupils, and
always spoke as if they owed infinitely much to
him. He had married Elizabeth Lord, a Welsh
lady, of very quick temper, and not inclined to
welcome his brothers and sisters. But we had paid

1 The impression produced on onlookers was of great sternness and severity.

76 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

them one visit which I dimly recollected, chiefly
because we saw a quagga, a kangaroo, and a lovely
white peacock at a little museum at Sandpit Gate,
belonging to Windsor Park. I wish I did recollect
my uncle, for I am sure he was as charming as
Uncle Duke. He would have been headmaster,
and had designs for improvements of the system,
but he fell into a decline. It was at the same time
that George IV. was dying, and Sir Henry Halford
came from one to the other. My father went
backwards and forwards between Eton and Otter-
bourne, and used to sit in the dining-room with my
mother after grandmamma had gone away for her
nap, and talk over what had passed. I was allowed
to stay, and many strange misty notions I gathered
of my aunt's odd ways, when no one thought I
understood.

Everything concerning the patient himself was
calm and beautiful. There is a minute account of
these last days, worked out from the letters of
Duke, Charlotte, and William,^ who were all there
during his illness. On his death his widow kept
on the house as a Dame, and Mr. Edward Coleridge,
who had lately become a master, undertook gratis
the tuition of his sons.

That summer was further diversified by the
measles. My father had no confidence in the
Winchester apothecaries, and doctored us through
it himself alone — yes, and nursed too. I remember

' Her aunt, uncle, and father.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY ^^

his sleeping on the floor in my little room and
rising up to give me draughts. He was the best
nurse I ever came under, with his tenderness and
strength. He read me the Pilgrims Progress
out of Southey's edition when I was recovering,
and on many Sundays— and how I loved it.

Then grandmamma brought me from Winchester
a doll of a sort then new with leathern bodies and
papier-mache heads. It was the largest and best
doll I had ever had, and as I lay in bed with my
hand over my treasure, my mother made it clothes.
I can recall the pattern of those frocks now.
" Anna " was more the doll of my heart than any
other, and she came when the old establishment
had been routed, the big wooden Eliza having been
thought dangerous to the baby.

Eliza's fate is really worth recording. There
came to the Sunday School a certain Marianne
Windus in the charge of a little aunt, who could
not prevent her from bursting into violent crying fits
at church. She was promised " Miss Eliza " for her
own if three Sundays were passed without a cry.
Dolls were rare among poor people then, and the
magnificent prospect proved successful. The girl
had in process of time eleven brothers and sisters,
and some sixteen or eighteen years after we saw
the youngest of them hugging the stump of Miss
Eliza, without a rag upon her, paintless, hairless,
eyeless, noseless, the last wreck of doll-anity, but
still caressed ! Poor Marianne Windus, she was

78 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

my first school -child love, but she drifted quite
out of sight, and I fear did not turn out well.

In the autumn we went into Devon, and there
were much better times to me on the road, for
the nurse, Maria Mason, went inside with mamma
and the baby, and I was exalted to the box in
company with my father. Oh, the felicity of
sitting there with him ! How he explained some
things and made fun of others ; how he told me
stories, of which I above all remember " Bel and
the Dragon," and the history of his old magpie
who was cured of sucking eggs by Tiaving one
filled with mustard ! When my incessant chatter
may have grown beyond bearing he changed
places with Mason, and then the fun was to
play at games, and especially Button, made by
the mouth pursed up till the incitements of the
other party forced it gradually to expand into a
laughing buttonhole.

In the course of this year little Eleanor and
Edward at the Crescent had both died on the
same day. Only Jemmy was left, and it was the
last time I saw him. In the winter he fell into
an atrophy, and wasted away. He begged for
the Holy Communion before his death, and it
was sad not to grant it to him, but he was
thought then to understand his Catechism too
literally. He had talked of me, and of some
curiosities he had to show me when I came. His
poor mother put them aside for me, but never

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 79

could bear to part with them till long after, when
I was grown up. Poor thing, she gave way
entirely to her grief, she wore mourning for life,
never went anywhere but to church, shut herself
up from everybody, and could not bear the sight
of a child. I, as Jemmy's playfellow, was specially
dreaded, and never saw her again till I was grown
too old to be a painful reminder.

It was very sad for my uncle. He was too
good a man to be alienated, but the effects of
the great grief, and the dreariness and desolation
at home, showed themselves in the short sharp
hurried manner that grew on him, and his rapidity
of speech. To his patients he was most tender.
He fairly loved many of them, and they were
enthusiastic about him, but otherwise he was so
quick, trenchant, and incisive as to be alarming.
He delighted in paintings, and had two pet artists
at Plymouth — Johns, always painting the exquisite
blue sea and sky at Mount Edgcumbe, and Condy,
who shone in figures and interiors. Once, as
Johns ^ could never do a tolerable figure. Uncle
James made Condy put a picnic into one of his
pictures, but the lobsters and pies came out so
heavy and out of keeping that they had to be
taken out again.

Uncle James further tried to fill the void in
his heart by speculation. The Delabole slate

1 The father of the Rev. Charles Johns, author of Flowers of the Field, and
other books on natural history.

8o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

mines, and a sugar- refining process with bullock's
blood, also some patent paint were the chief that
I remember, but the two brothers never met
without there being some new scheme taken up
by James with passionate ardour, and eagerly laid
before William.

At one time there was a saying that he was
going to be rich enough to have golden nails to
the Crescent, but of course the speculations went
their usual course. He was nevertheless immensely
respected at Plymouth, and at one time was
entreated to stand for the Conservative interest
there, but he would not hear of it, and assisted
Roundell Palmer (Lord Selborne) instead, actually
bringing him in. Aunt Margaret's grey parrot
used to cry " Palmer for ever ! Master's a Tory ! "

But I have gone on too fast, for the first
political event I remember at all was the Reform
Bill, and the mournful predictions my uncles used
to make about it, till I expected to see a repetition
of the Reign of Terror. " Heathcote and Chute "
for Hampshire was the first election I remember.
Sir William Heathcote being then a slender,
youthful- looking, handsome man, with a face like
the description of Claverhouse's, and an appearance
more like an Eton boy than a man of thirty-one or
thirty-two.

We were in Devonshire when the great agri-
cultural riots took place. Mrs. Bargus was alone
at Otterbourne, and nothing was done to alarm

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 8i

her. In this part of the country, the labourers
paraded in gangs and asked for money at . the
great houses, but were easily dispersed or turned
aside, and offered no violence. The Heathcote
children remembered being shut up in a strong-
room while the parley went on, but nothing came
of it.

In the north of Hants the rick-burning and
machine -breaking were much more serious, the
military were called out to put the rioters down,
and there was a special assize at Winchester for
their trial. Two of the ringleaders were Joseph
and Robert Mason, brothers to our nurse. They
had been well educated, and had so far, it was
thought, less excuse, so they were sentenced ; but
a petition was got up, and they were finally
transported for life. Their poor sister was broken-
hearted, and I do not think was ever quite the
same woman again. I remember her flood of
tears and swollen face, and how at intervals she
would receive letters that were a marvel of
penmanship, quarto sheets written almost micro-
scopically, and sometimes full of very amusing
information about Sydney. The brothers flourished
there, and were finally pardoned, when one came
home and the other remained as a settler.

One visit to our Devon kindred had sundry
charms for which it is still remembered. James
had gone from Ottery to Winchester, and John
was the head of the "playing party." Aunt

G

82 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Yonge lay on the sofa in her room, Alethea sat
at the head of the table, and there was a daily-
governess in the school -room, and plenty of
liberty out of it.

Then it was that we made an enormous spider's
web with pack-thread tied across from the rail of
the balusters of the landing-place to the locks of the
doors, intersected by cross lines so as to make a
large octagon in the middle where John abode,
while we lesser ones had cornerwise abodes all
round in which we were just settled when all
the owners of the rooms came marching up to
dress, and acted the part of housemaid's broom
to our web.

That too was the year when we took to "play-
ing the fool," namely, dancing wildly about the
hall in any fantastic garb we could manage to
lay hold of My uncle, to his horror, caught me
skating about the stone hall in a pair of wooden
pattens with tall iron rings.

" Charlotte," he said, " how can you be so
foolish ? "

" But, Uncle Yonge, I am a fool," I squeaked
out, as if he had been paying a great compliment.

I was the noisiest of all, being very excitable,
shrill-voiced, and with a great capacity of scream-
ing. There was one game called " Cats and
Mice " which I have really forgotten how to play,
for we made such a riot that the children were
always told beforehand not to play at it when

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 83

I was there. There was an attempt too at hockey
in the hall, summarily squashed by Mary coming
down and gathering all the sticks up in her
hand.

But riotous as were those days, the great
love of all our lives was getting to be conscious.
Anne and I were always together. We wanted
to walk about with our arms round each other's
waists, but our mothers held this to be silly, and
we were told we could be just as fond of one
another without " pawing." I still think this was
hard, and that tenderness would have done no
harm. But I do remember a long walk with the
nurses and little ones round Kitley Point, with
the sea sparkling on one side and woods sloping
up filled with blue-bells. We gathered them in
the ecstasy of childhood among flowers, exchanged
our finest clustering stems of blue, and felt our
hearts go out to one another. At least I did,
so entirely that the Kitley slope — yes, and a
white blue-bell — still brings to me that dear
Anne and that old love. It was cemented further
by our passion for long words when we could
utter them without being laughed at for affectation.
Poor Anne, when ill with a bad cold, knew she
should be called an affected little pussy-cat if she
said she had a pain in her side, therefore she
said " it pricked her when she breathed." She
was derided for vanity if she looked at herself
in the glass, but found consolation in the brass

84 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

handles of the locks of the doors. She was very
enterprising and would taste whatever came in
her way, even to a poultice.

The next time we went, 1832, my aunt had
recovered the degree of health that she was to
enjoy for the next twelve years or so. She moved
about the house and garden with her hands on
her sides as if walking were an effort, but she
always sat in the school -room in the morning,
taking some of the lessons ; she managed every-
thing in the house, gardened, and as she could
not in general bear the motion of a carriage, used
to go to Newton on a donkey, with the whole
flock of children round her. Her fine complexion
was gone, her colour was dead white, and she
was a Puritan as to dress and ornament. She
comes before me in a hideous blue cotton in large
shaded checks and a perfectly plain white net cap,
with very little ribbon about it, and she kept her
daughters as simply dressed as possible, their hair
cut bowl-dish fashion while little, and in straight
bands when older. Alethea and Jane had a grace
and an air that nothing could disguise, but Mary
and Anne would have looked much better if
better dressed.

I was afraid of Aunt Yonge. I always was
getting reproofs from her, richly deserved I doubt
not, but reproofs from uncles and aunts have a
sting that those from one's lawful owners have
not. The only scolding that ever made me more

m AUTOBIOGRAPHY 85

angry than Aunt Yonge's was Mrs. Shipley's,
when I did not like to eat orange juice out of
a pewter spoon.

However, this summer of 1832 had a delightful
episode. My father and mother, with my uncle
and his brother Edmund, Alethea, James, and
Mary, went for "the inside of a week" to see
the North of Devon. How they all packed I
cannot conceive, considermg that two of the party
were men not much under six feet high, but they
had post-horses, and a box and dickey to the
Puslinch chariot.

We were left at Puslinch, and Aunt Yonge
really set herself to give us treats and make
us happy — and now one thinks of it, how easy
it was to produce that surpassing felicity, which
certainly has been a "joy for ever." There was
one day when we walked to Newton and came
back in the boat up the lovely tide river ; another
when we had our tea in the plantation in Parson's
Meadow above the house, and were exquisitely
happy in a certain " lost bower " till a boy friend
came and marred our bliss by cruelty to the hornet
moths ; and another evening we drank tea at the
clergyman's at Yealmpton, Mr. Des Brisay, and
Johnnie found a garden syringe and played some
outrageous tricks with it.

Then we built shops all over the garden, and
sold wonderful commodities, made of flowers, beans,
and seeds ; and down Undercliff, that is on the

86 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

bank of the tide river, were two heaps of sand,
where we searched for tiny sea-shells. We, who
considered ourselves reasonable, Jane, Johnnie,
Duke, Anne, and myself had our regular divisions
of the larger, the smaller was abandoned to the
little ones, and called the Spuddler's portion, but
Charles would make inroads on us, which I much
resented, though Jane connived at them. The
great prizes were mussel shells, and our object
was to polish these so as to bring out their
exquisite blue tinting as one may see them in
shops. We did not know that acid was needed,
and in the small part of our time we spent indoors
we were scrubbing them vehemently with bits
of pumice-stone, or else down on our hands and
knees polishing them on the library carpet, and
feeling how hot the friction would make them.
We always came in at ten for lessons, but I believe
this really made us all the happier, as we had
the sense of duty, and were kept still.

One more of these picnicking teas I must
mention ; it was at the Round's Nest. This is a
curious place formed by the gneiss (I believe)
rocks that crop up all along the banks of the
Yealm. One of the fields belonging to Puslinch
is called Roughtors (pronounced Rowters), because
it was once scattered all over with these rocks, and
beyond came a good deal of copsewood with these
rocks in the midst, the mound sloping upwards, till
it ends in a precipice above the hamlet of Torre.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 87

But this precipice is crowned and enclosed by a
circle or nest of rocks, fine big ones, standing so as
to enclose a space of rather less than a yard in
diameter, only leaving a little opening for an
entrance, and another large rock was close at
hand. We all believed, like all the villagers, that
" the Round " was an eagle who had here made his
nest, and used the outer rock as a door, taking it
up in his beak to shut himself in. It was a great
disappointment when my father told me the real
size of an eagle and how impossible this was.

Standing in the Nest — quite safe, for the stones
were nearly as tall as we were — -one saw the tops
of trees close below, and beyond them Yealmpton
Church. I believe it is possible to climb down the
sides, and that Johnnie was supposed to have done
it. The only drawback to this exquisite place is
that one has to go along the top of a limestone
quarry, and the possibility of their blowing up the
rock has always been a terror to me.

Aunt Yonge was wonderfully kind that summer,
and I suppose it must have been much against the
will of the nurses, for after that time we were
always told that we could be just as happy playing
out of doors, and drinking tea in, which I beg to
observe is contrary to all child experience.

In the midst of the pleasant journey our parents
met the tidings that the cholera was in England.
This was that first visitation of cholera, when it
came like the plague, and its causes and treatment

88 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

had not been discovered. It had come in at
Sunderland/ and had made its terrible way gradu-
ally westwards and southwards, and an attack of
it was almost certain death. It was an anxious
thing to have a brother a physician in a town
nearly certain to be visited by it.

My grandmother no longer lived in Plymouth.
Her daughter Anne had become attached to the
surgeon who attended her after her accident, and
after some delay they were married, and grand-
mamma lived with them at Plympton. But my
other grandmother had been too long alone, and
my mother took us children home, escorted by
Captain Edmund Yonge, who was going to Ports-
mouth ; for my father had further business, and
came home by coach a little later. I think the
cholera had nearly spent its force before it came
to Plymouth, and it never appeared at all in
Hampshire that time.

Dr. Jones, the Rector of Exeter College, my
Aunt Charlotte's husband, was Vice-Chancellor.

One summer the Duke Yonges paid Oxford a
visit at Commemoration time, taking Otterbourne
on their way, and there dropping Alethea, who
was only fourteen. Then and there ended all my
dread of her, and a love began that lasted for life.
After that I remember being very happy at Antony

1 The cholera came to Sunderland in 1S31, to Edinburgh in 1832. I do
not think Miss Yonge distinguishes very clearly between these annual visits to
Puslinch. She gives the general impression.

Ill AUTOBIOGRAPHY 89

in most respects. My uncle and aunt were most
winning, open-hearted people, more indulgent to
their children, and more sociable with all sorts of
people than was wise, but there was a charm about
the place that I was just old enough to feel. The
vicarage looked out on the Tamar, full of ships on
one side ; on the other, blue water with white sails
gliding. I remember wandering on the lawn one
morning before breakfast with Uncle Duke, and
his drawing a likeness between the passing vessels,
the falling gum-cistus leaves, and our life. The
garden sloped upwards, and was full of choice
shrubs, especially a buddlea covered with yellow
balls, and a large standard fig-tree. I do not re-
member the church enough to describe it, and it was
improved and restored long ago. I fancy it was
very dilapidated, for all I really remember was one
square pew lined with green baize turned olive
colour, like that in Millais' picture of the " First
Sunday in Church," and another with some carved
panels in it, which were an agreeable study when
one knelt against the seat with one's face to the
wall.

From the hill above the house could be seen a
great round tower called Trematon Castle. There
was a mysterious horror about the place which my
cousin Arthur never failed to impress on me. He
delighted in playing on my credulity, which was
excessive. He told me cracks in the ceilings were
signs the house was coming down ; and having

90 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

deluded me into mentioning William IV. as King
Bill, he declared that I had committed high treason,
and that he was going to write to have a guillotine
sent down in a letter and behead me on Trematon
Hill. I believed him, and it poisoned all the rest
of my visit.

I believe that was my last visit, for when we went
next into Devon, my Aunt Catharina (Mrs. Charles
Crawley), with her daughter Kate, and her son
George, came to meet us, and after being with us
at Plympton, went on to Antony, my father alone
accompanying them. Kate was a grown-up young
lady beyond my horizon, but George and I got on
excellently. We used together to scramble about
the old green mound on which the Keep of Plympton
Castle stands, and when I had to go to bed while
the elders were reading Peter Simple aloud, he
used to tell me the next morning what I had
missed.

One day, while the rest of the party were gone
to Antony, Mr. Pode drove my mother. Aunt
Anne, and me to Cornwood, and for the first tiijie
I saw the ravine down which the Yealm rushes
from the moor between the bushes and rocks, in
one place forming a little waterfall. It is a delicious
place, and my ecstasy was extreme. It was the
first of my few glimpses of really beautiful scenery,
and the delight of skipping upon those stones, with
the clean torrent of clear water rushing through,
was a sensation never to be forgotten. Then the

in AUTOBIOGRAPHY 91

ravine opened on the wild moor, scattered with
rocks, and giving a sense of mountain freedom.

Near Plympton lived Admiral Mudge, of the
family of that Dr. Mudge who was one of Sir
Joshua Reynolds's first patrons. His wife was a
Grainger, a sister of old Mrs. Yonge of Puslinch,
and they had one son, Zachary. Admiral Mudge
had been a hero in the great war, and his victory
in the Blanche was thought worthy of record in
James's Naval History, but to childish impatience,
and perhaps to youthful arrogance, he always
seemed the dullest and dreariest of old men. The
family laughed at him and said he spent his time in
combing the monkey, and Zachary in helping him,
and to this day I always think of him as an example
of what a hero may come to !

But there was one day when I was ready to fall
at his feet, when, at the instigation of his kind wife,
he gave me a small paper nautilus. I had a great
passion for shells, and had at home really striven to
learn their names and the system of arrangement,
and this was encouraged the more because it was
like my Aunt Charlotte. No present was so de-
lightful to me as a shell. In the aforementioned
visit of Uncle and Aunt Duke to Otterbourne,
one went to Winchester and one to Southampton.
Each brought me home a present, and each was an
Argus cowry. My aunt made up a funny little
story about them, and they have ever since reposed
side by side in my shell drawers. Grandmamma

92 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Yonge gave me a fine wentle-trap, and my father
spent many a shilling, and even half- a- crown, on
shells. Many more dropped in by chance, and I have
for many years had a really good collection, endeared
by many a recollection.^

Mrs. Mudge's paper nautilus — kind lady — was
given to me only a few days before the illness that
caused her death. I believe she was much loved, but
all I remember distinctly was my mother keeping
guard over Anne and me and my grandmother,
while everybody else was gone to the funeral.

We were at Puslinch, and she was buried at
Newton. Grandmamma was very much grieved,
and it was not thought right that we should run
wild over the house and garden. So we were kept
quiet, much against the grain, as our spirits were
by no means affected, and our happiness in being
together was too great to feel much for any great-
aunt. So I believe we tittered and giggled, and
were told we were unfeeling.

We did not know much about real grief then,
and little thought how near it was.

In 1833 my first London visit was paid. We
made a detour, for it was intended in the first
place that we should drive in our open phaeton into
Sussex to West Dean. My mother's old friend. Miss
Peachey (who had married the Reverend Leveson
Vernon Harcourt, third son of the Archbishop of
York), had borrowed the house from her brother,

' Her beautiful collection of shells was left to Winchester College.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 93

Lord Selsey, and we were to stay with her
there.

Our first start was not propitious, for in fording
the river at Brambridge our old horse, pressed by a
heavier collar than usual, lay flat down in the middle
of the stream ! We were carried out, undamaged,
walked half a mile home again, I had the Talisman
given to me as a solace, post-horses were sent for,
and we went in the old chariot.

It was very curious. Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt
and her orphan goddaughter, Caroline Jervis, whom
she had adopted, were living in a corner of a vast
house, with long passages, and hosts of empty
rooms, each furnished with one copper tea-kettle.^
There was a beautiful library, with a wonderful roof,
a place to revel in, and great, lonely, highly- kept
gardens, where Caroline and I played.

Then we went on to Kensington to stay with
Mrs. Davys, the Marianne Mapletoft of my mother's
youth. Her husband was now Dean of Chester
and Preceptor to the Princess Victoria, and further,
was editing the Cottager's Monthly Visitor, one of
the earliest magazines for the poor.

Dr. Davys was a good and highly cultivated man,
and educated his family most admirably. My con-
temporary, Charlotte, a bright girl, became great
friends with me on the Sunday we spent together.
Alas ! she was sickening next morning with scarlet

1 These copper tea-kettles appeared in the description of the great house
in Magnum Boniim.

94 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

fever, and died before the week was out. I still
have two cowries with black stripes which she gave
me that last morning when no one grasped what
the malady was.

We went undoubting on to Mr. Serjeant Cole-
ridge's.^ There began between his two daughters,
Mary and Alethea, and myself an unbroken love
and friendship, the joy of our lives. They too were
their father's pupils. Busy as he was he gave them
his time at breakfast, and as their mother was help-
less with invalidism, he was all the world to them.

Museum, Zoological Gardens, Panorama of the
Siege of Antwerp at the Coliseum, those are the
sights I remember best in the country child's week
of wonder in the sights of London. I remember,
too, going to Westminster Hall, and the Serjeant in
his wig and gown.

My home life had all this time had much less
to mark it than the Devon visits. I remember
little but great regularity in lessons. The house
was added to enough to provide a schoolroom,
where my mother taught me from ten till one,
and my brother for part of the time. Afternoon
lessons there were none, and I was out of doors,
either in the garden with my mother, or the nurse
and Julian, or taking walks with these last ; playing
at ball on the attic stairs on wet days, loving my
dolls and the dogs, and being very happy on the
whole, though with a dull yearning, at times -for

1 Afterwards Sir John Taylor Coleridge.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 95

something to look forward to. There were occa-
sional meetings with the Shipleys, but they were the
only children I knew, and they were not perfect
playmates, for they called all " pretending games "
falsehood. I read a great many little books over
and over again, and tried to garden, but was never
tidy or persevering enough to succeed, and, as Julian
grew older, we used to play on sandheaps, scrape
chalk and brick dust for magnesia and rhubarb, and
call ourselves Dr. C. and Dr. J.

Mamma took me to her Sunday School. The
children used to take places, and after three Sun-
days went into the first class. I began in the
second and soon got into the first, where was one
companion of my subsequent life, Harriet Spratt.
Very unlike the attainments of their grandchildren
of the present day were those of the big girls with
whom I found myself, for at seven years old, in six
weeks I took the head of the class for knowing
" Who were they of the Circumcision ? " I kept
my place for three Sundays, and then was made
a teacher.^ It was a mistake, for I had not moral
balance enough to be impartial, and I must have been
terribly ignorant. This led to the worst false-
hood I know myself to have ever uttered. A
new girl, Lucy Knight, had just come into the
class ; I admired and favoured her, and took the
first opportunity of prompting her so as to get
her to the head of the class. My mother, seeing

^ She was a teacher for seventy-one years.

96 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

her there, asked me if she was there fairly.
" Yes," said I. The misery of that lie rankled how
long I do not know, it seems to me for months, but
at last, with my finger on a pane of glass in the
schoolroom, I remember the confession of the false-
hood and the forgiveness.

I do not believe I ever told an untruth knowingly
after that, but I equivocated — when I do not know,
but I remember my father's telling me it was worse
than a falsehood, because it pretended to be the
truth.

In religious knowledge I was forward. We
always said the Catechism every Sunday, and we
had a great Dutch Bible History, with two engrav-
ings on every other page, which kept up in our
minds the Bible histories, besides the daily reading
with my father. Still I was not at all devoutly
minded, I always wished everything of the kind,
except teaching the school children, to be over as
fast as possible. I think I had a little sense of love
and upbreathing devotion when I was by myself
out of doors among the daffodils, or under a pink-
blossomed double crab. The beauty uplifted me.
But all the rest was fear, and I so dreaded the end
of the world that, having understood " Watch lest
He Cometh " to mean that He would come when no
one was awake, I used to try to keep awake by
means of pulling hairs out of my mattress. All the
little Sunday books in those days were Mrs; Sher-
wood's, Mrs. Cameron's, and Charlotte Elizabeth's,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 97

and little did my mother guess how much Calvinism
one could suck out of them, even while diligently-
reading the story and avoiding the lesson.

When James, my eldest boy cousin, came into
Commoners at Winchester, a fresh delight began.
Every Saint's day he had leave out to us, and
the day of his arrival was always spent with us.
What parcels used to come ! Anne and I only
wrote to one another by him, our letters not being
worth elevenpence postage. And the oddest little
gifts ! — for it was a law in the two families that no
presents except of our own manufacture should pass
between us. Nor did I have an allowance, but I
had certain hens of my own, and Grandmamma
Bargus paid me two shillings and sixpence for each
couple of their chickens, also she gave me a half-
sovereign on my birthday, and I think my money
was rationally spent, though with shame I confess
that no diligent training, and diligent it was, ever
succeeded in making me keep regular accounts.

It seems to me that 1834, the year when I
was between ten and eleven, was like a new era,
both from the friends we then first made and the
events that happened.

First, our strange curate, Mr. Shuckburgh, went
away. A Fellow of New College was to succeed
him, but sent a substitute, another Fellow, for
six weeks. It ended in the said substitute staying
thirty-seven years ! He was the Rev. William
Henry Walter Bigg-Wither, to give his full name,

H

98 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

though he only signed the first ; for when first
he went to Winchester, one of the masters took
up a book with the whole inscribed, and exclaimed,
" What, sir, do you thus proclaim the folly of your
godfathers and godmothers ? "

He was the younger son of a good old North
Hants family, the same to which George Wither,
the poet, belonged, and was connected with half
the county. Above all he was a Hampshire man,
and next he was a Wykehamist of the truest old
type. He brought a little hereditary surface
Whiggery, but his nature was so intensely con-
servative that ere many years had past he was
a Tory of the Tories.

He was a deacon when he came, very solitary,
from his large family and Oxford friends, into a
small lodging just opposite to us, and thenceforth
he was like one of the family. He had hardly then
developed the peculiarities into which he grew,
but he always had a strange quaint ability, coupled
with great narrowness of views, and great energy
in carrying out his purpose. When at Winchester
College he had been as nearly as possible drowned
while bathing, and was rescued quite insensible.
It was the week before the " Standing Up," i.e.
the repetition of an incredible number of lines of
Latin or Greek poetry. The shock so confused
him that when the standing up began he would
start with a Latin line and end it in Greek. He
always said his memory had never recovered. I

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 99

do not know what it would otherwise have been,
but he had an endless store of classical quotations
(classics were all then ever taught at Winchester
or New College), and as to the dates of real life,
he never forgot one. He knew everybody's birth-
day, and could always tell the day when he had
last seen a person. It was startling to the people
to hear, " Mrs. Cox, you have not been to church
since the 20th of November ! "

He set to work on the parish as no one else
had done. From his first coming, Holy Week and
Ascension Day began to be observed, and christen-
ings were after the Second Lesson. There were
only twelve communicants, of whom at least half
must have been in our house. Communion only
took place three times a year, and his first step
was to make it four times, and then repeat it the
Sunday after a festival to give opportunities to
those left at home.

A boys' school had, I think in Mr. Shuckburgh's
time, been built of lath and mud whitewashed on
a vacant piece of ground on the north side of the
old church, where no one chose to be buried. But
to our present notions the situation would seem
as unsuitable as the building to modern require-
ments. As to our schoolmaster, good old George
Oxford, he was goodness itself, and had a great
deal of quiet peasant-like intelligence, but I doubt
if he could have passed the " third standard."
However, he hobbled half a mile from his cottage

lOO CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

on the hill to his school, and the boys were sent
to him, from the time they grew too big and
unmanageable for Mrs. Creswick, till they went
out to work, not a very long interval. One fat
spoilt boy was kept back to be the nuisance of
the girls, his mother declaring that she was afraid
he would be drowned, till my grandmother walked
into school with a piece of yellow furniture lining
in her hand, and told him that as he chose to be
a girl, she should make it into a petticoat for him !
We never were troubled with him in the girls'
school again.

My father, Mr. Wither, and old Oxford managed
the boys' Sunday School between them, and there
was a general infusion of vigour.

That year brought another intimate. A young
physician, John Harris, a Plymouth man, was
intending to practise at Winchester, and was placed
under a sort of care of my father by Dr. Yonge.
He was a small man with a Jewish face and a
nervous sensitive manner. The first day he called
he found Julian on the floor playing with his
wooden bricks. Before he said a single word to
any one, he popped the child into the basket
belonging to the bricks, and hoisted him on his
knee, Julian quietly remarking, " I don't Hke it."
It was all rampant embarrassment ; the next moment
he was likening the boy to Uncle James's Jemmy.
He was a very curious character, full of enthusiasm
and paradox, and he used to come to us as to a

AUTOBIOGRAPHY loi

home to pour it all out, and be argued with
seriously or laughed at. Wordsworth was his chief
delight, and he strove hard to infuse his admiration
into my father, who cared for an entirely different
school and turned "Peter Bell" and "The Pet Lamb"
into ridicule. He had a hard struggle. Two old-
fashioned general practitioners who believed in
calomel had possession of the neighbourhood, and
his adventures were so like those in Middlemarch
that I am sure the picture was a true one. For
eight or ten years he was the constant familiar
of our house, enlivening us with his never-ending
fancies and schemes, and even, poor man, by his
occasional depression, when he used to complain
of " the everlasting everything."

That same year gave Winchester College her
noble and admirable Warden, Robert Speckott
Barter. He was one of the three sons of the Rev.
Charles Barter of Cornworthy near Totnes. All
were men of great size and strength, and consider-
able brain power, but Robert was the flower of them
all. Charles, the Rector of Sarsdon, Oxon, was
genial ; William, the Rector of Burghclere, Hants,
was able and earnest ; but Robert united the best
qualities of both.

A New College fellow and tutor, and then
Warden of Winchester, he had all his life been the
home son who came for the holidays to Cornworthy,
where his parents lived to a great age. His easy
strength of body and mind, coupled with fervent

I04 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Duke of Bedford, z'.^. the brother of Henry V., in
Vertue's heads — which was considered satisfactory
evidence.

They took me to the theatre, and I am very
glad of it, for I was astonished when some thirty-
five years later I saw the installation of the Marquis
of Salisbury to find how complete my recollection
was, and it was a great thing to have seen.

I remember the hawk-like profile in the black
and golden robe, the centre of the grand semi-circle
of scarlet doctors, among them the Bishops who
were still wigged. Archbishop Howley's mild
grave face, and old Archbishop Vernon Harcourt's,
very red and extremely aged, and I think the
handsome head of Bishop Sumner of Winchester,
rise before me. There too was the great Lord
Eldon, in the extreme of old age, and I remember
the graceful act of his grandson, Lord Encombe,
on receiving his degree, in going up to him and
taking his hand. In another chair sat the Duke
of Cumberland, not yet King of Hanover, with a
red gown over his uniform. Catching a sight of
his George I whispered, " Oh, mamma, there's
Pegasus ! " a mistake for which I was laughed at so
much that I hated the sight of him.

Above were the shouting undergraduates, around
us the peeresses — I remember the beauty of Lady
Clanricarde, — below the arena full of heads, which
surged wildly to and fro when a lane had to
be made for the candidates for degrees. We

m AUTOBIOGRAPHY 105

watched my father's head, and old Uncle Crawley's.
The old gentleman was rather a charge, but was
quite undaunted, and people on all sides were heard
complaining of the sharpness of his bones.

The Duke made his speech, which I believe was
in Latin as characteristically Wellingtonian and to
the point as the French of his letters. The prize
poems were declaimed from the rostrum ; Lord
Maidstone had the Newdigate, which was on the
Duke himself So in came the line —

We have one hero, and that one is here.

Out went his white gloved hand towards the one
hero, and thunders of applause burst from every
one.^

There were three days of the theatre. One was
a concert, when Braham and Catalani sang, but I
had not sense enough to enter into that. The
prime event of all to us was the last day, when the
Duke came round to call on the heads of houses
to thank them for his reception. We were all in
the room to see him. My mother, in a sudden
impulse, led Julian forward, saying, " Will your
Grace shake hands with a soldier's little boy.-" "

He kissed Julian, and shook hands with me.

" I did not think you had been so impudent,"
said my father afterwards.

We gloried in the kiss, but the boy himself was
desperately shy about it, and if his cousins wanted

^ Compare her contemporary account of this function.

io6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

to tease him it was by asking him to " show the
place where the Duke bit him."

That visit was further memorable as the last
sight of the good Aunt Charlotte, the godmother
who was always held up as my model. She gave
me a Bishop Wilson then, in case she should not
live to see me confirmed. I have it still.

We came home, and found Alethea with grand-
mamma. She stayed till her brothers' holidays
(for John Bargus Yonge had now joined James at
Winchester).

But in the next half-year, in the autumn of 1834,
death for the first time was in our house. James,
then eighteen, suffered from headache and nose-
bleeding. He was sent out to Otterbourne for rest
and change of air, and for a week was our playfellow
as usual. We loved him very much, and it was held
as remarkable that Julian, learning Watts's hymn on
dress, saying

This is the raiment Angels wear,

paused and observed, " I think James has that
clothing."

Indeed he had, and well it was. In a week other
symptoms came on that caused his father to be
summoned. The next night he was unconscious,
and never was fully himself again. He died on the
Sunday. It was the first experience of an illness
since too well known in his family, which has left
(1889) only three of the joyous band of nine.

m AUTOBIOGRAPHY 107

Uncle Yonge's calmness and patience were
beautiful. Never can I read the verse,

The father who his vigil keeps

By the sad couch whence hope has flown, etc.,

without recollecting him.

His wife, who could not come, was patient and
resolute, showing such self-command that she would
not send for his letters by the second post in the
evening, that her girls might not have bad news
before they went to bed. I remember her writing,
"It was on the 2nd of November that our httle John
died." It was on the 2nd of November, twenty
years later, that James was taken. They buried
him in our churchyard.

To me the time was a dull dreary dream. I
thought of it with much awe, but I was a frivolous
creature of untamed spirits, and I was in much
disgrace for being unfeeling. I could not cry, and
I was ready for any distraction. It was a great
satisfaction to run down the kitchen garden, and
recollect the cats must be fed whatever happened !
Yet I think I carried something away. Reverence
for James I know I did, and for my uncle a venera-
tion only expressed by the verse I quoted before.
I have no very distinctive recollection of 1835,
except that when Julian was five, and I eleven,^
we began Latin; my father teaching us, and I,
who of course went on the fastest, having to help
him to learn. I think too that it was then that

1 She would have been twelve in 1835.

io8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

my father took my arithmetic in hand. He used
to call me at six or half-past, and I worked with
him for an hour before breakfast. It was in a
degree like the writing lessons. He required a
diligence and accuracy that were utterly alien to
me. He thundered at me so that nobody could
bear to hear it, and often reduced me to tears,
but his approbation was so delightful that it was
a delicious stimulus, and I must have won it oftener
than it used to seem to me, for at the end of the
first winter, my watch, the watch of my life, was
given me as a reward, to my great surprise. I
believe, in spite of all breezes over my innate
slovenliness, it would have broken our hearts to
leave off working together. And we went on
till I was some years past twenty, and had worked
up to the point of such Greek, Euclid, and Algebra
as had furnished forth the Etonian and soldier of
sixteen, till his eyes were troubled by Homer and
Algebra, and his time too fully occupied. Of
course the serious breezes had long been over,
and the study together had become very great
pleasure. He did hear me read French for a
little while, but a capital French master came into
the neighbourhood.

Oh the French masters ! What characters they
were ! Maria Kingsman learnt of a Monsieur Beau,
who had been dug alive out of the earthquake at
Lisbon. In my time the College master was one
Arnati, an Italian, who had been to Moscow in the

m AUTOBIOGRAPHY 109

Grand Army, and had there had his skull fractured
and been trephined. When in good humour he
would show the boys the silver plate on his skull,
but this was rare. He generally raged and
they laughed, and a standing joke was that when he
called to an offender, " Stan' up," a boy named
Stanhope should instantly comply.

My master was named De Normanville. He
was an old man, with white hair powdered, and
a huge French nose, and hemless ears. He said
he had left France in the early days of the Revolu-
tion, crossing the border to Spain, 'and had been
unable to save any property. He had since been
in the West Indies. How far his account of him-
self was true I do not know ; he had good manners,
but he had married a very low stamp of English-
woman, and his son and daughter were very ill-
managed. He did not even teach them to speak
French ! However, he was a very good French
scholar of the old idiomatic style, and he taught
me both French and Spanish. From the French
letters I was bidden to write rose my first
beginning of composition — an endless story, in
which Emilie, Rosalie, Henriette and Pauline
Melville had endless adventures. I did not
write easily enough even then to write out of
lesson times the stories that filled my brain.

M. de Normanville was my only master, except
a dancing master from Southampton, a lugubrious
man, so pious that he gave us tracts, and said

no CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

going to balls was contrary to his profession. How
we hated his lessons !

My brother and I began Latin together, as has
been said, when he was five years old, with my
father. Of course, at eleven, I got to learn the
quickest, so for some years longer I had to teach
him his work in preparation for my father. So
we worked through Latin Grammar with the old
"Propria quae maribus " and "As in praesenti,"
and through Phaedrus and Cornelius Nepos. (Our
old copy of Phaedrus has served me again with one
of his boys.) Then I went on to Virgil, and
selections from Horace, but all this work was
spread over a good many years. Looking at my
mother's jottings, I see in the year 1835 the
beginning of the service of our faithful gardener,
George Collins.

The appointment of Mr. Coleridge as a Judge
brought us for the first time the great pleasure of
having his wife and children with us for the Assize
week at Winchester, when he went on the Western
Circuit. It was ecstasy to May and Alley to be
in the country, and the going into Court and seeing
trials was a great pleasure to me. And the play,
the jokes, the romancings, the debatings — whether
Napoleon was courageous ; whether St. Louis was
"henpecked by his mother," as May called it; our
horror at the age of a hero of Madame de Genlis,
" Lord Arthur Selby," who married at the venerable
age of twenty-six ; an exclusive preference for

AUTOBIOGRAPHY iii

imaginary heroes with "pokers in their backbones"
— all this childish, harmless fun, frolic and aspiration,
was like a fairyland of imagination to us.

People used to tell us then, as we say to children
now, that we had too many books to care for them,
but I am sure we did heartily care for our favourites,
Scott above all. I think I was allowed a chapter
a day of the Waverley novels, provided I first read
twenty pages of Goldsmith's Rome or some equally
solid book.

As to new books, in those days circulating
libraries consisted generally of third-rate novels,
very dirty, very smoky, and with remarks plenti-
fully pencilled on the margins. It was thought
foolish and below par to subscribe to them, and
book-clubs were formed in which each family might
either ask for or order a book, which was covered
with white cartridge paper with the list of sub-
scribers pasted on one side. After going the
round of the society, the books were disposed of
either at half price or by auction, any book that
no one would bid for being necessarily purchased
by its orderer. Thus every one was responsible
to all the rest, and though people grumbled some-
times, the plan prevented an immense amount of
mischievous reading. People mostly dined at 5.30
or 6, and in the long evening that ensued the
books from the club used to be read aloud to the
assembled family, and the effect was a guiding
power on the parents' part, and a community of

112 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap,

interest in the subject before them that scarcely
exists now.

The secretary of our society was Mrs. Emily
Coxe — single ladies used to drop the Miss and
take the becoming old title at a certain age then.
She was the sister of the Archdeacon Coxe who
wrote the Life of Marlborough and the House
of Austria, standard books still. She was a pretty,
dark-eyed old lady, and — like Miss Matty in Cran-
ford — it seems to me that there were a great many
old ladies in those days. The most notable of
them were " the Lady Knollyses." Poor old things,
they were descended from Queen Elizabeth's Sir
Francis Knollys, and were the daughters of the
last of the family, who bore the title of Earl of
Banbury till his death. There was a blot on the
scutcheon, and their brother had failed to prove
his right to the peerage, but they consoled them-
selves with saying, " we may be ladies as long as
we live," and there they were. Lady Letitia, Lady
Caroline, and Lady Amelia. I think they were under-
educated and very poor, and they had sharp tongues.
Their sayings used to be repeated, but I only
remember one. When they were staying at some
place where their hostess provided more mutton
and lamb than they liked, one of them put up her
hand with a stage whisper, " I say, Emmy, we
shall baa."

I remember Miss Porter's one really admir-
able tale coming in the book-club, Sir Edward

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 113

Seaward, in which I think a good many people
believed — I know I did. There too came Lockhart's
Life of Scott, a book that was absolute delight to
me, and is still, showing forth that most attractive
character in its fulness. I may respect, admire,
rely on other authors more, but my prime literary
affection must ever be for Sir Walter !

Another great influence came at this time in the
persons of Mary and Julia Davys, who used to
come and stay with us in the summer. They were
put in the coach at Kensington, and came out at
Otterbourne, fresh, bright, delighted to be in the
country. Grown-up young ladies as they were,
they kindly treated me as a friend, and their
pursuits, drawing and botany, their intelligent
reading, etc., all drew me up. But what made one
great charm was the introduction of those paper
games, which were ecstasy to me.^ Dr. Harris and
Mr. Wither were much with us, and the fun was
extreme at times, indulging sometimes in most
vehement politics, such as perhaps alarmed the
good Dean, for something of a check was put on
the intimacy — more especially when the two young
ladies were loved and loved in vain by those two
friends of ours, who both, as a fact, remained
single all their lives, and constant to that one
affection.

But this break did not come till after the Queen's

1 Her delight in " paper games " lasted for life, and gloriously she played
them.

I

114 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

accession in 1837, when Mary had an appointment
in the Palace. She made us one visit after that, and
amused us much with her stories of palace life in
Queen Victoria's maiden days. Only one I re-
member distinctly. Miss Cocks (Lady Caroline
afterwards), one of the maids of honour, had a
melon sent her from home. It was hard to dispose of
it, so she invited the other young ladies to a midnight
banquet on it in their night-caps and dressing-gowns
in her room. " The feast ate merrily," but it dis-
agreed with one of the ladies, and the story became
known. " And pray. Miss Davys," said the young
Queen the next evening, " how does Miss Caven-
dish look in her night-cap .?" Perhaps she longed
to have been able to join in the fun.

One of the Queen's first appointments to bishop-
rics was of her old tutor to Peterborough ; Mary
and Julia both married clergymen, and I have seen
comparatively little of them since.

I think I look on the finishing era of my child-
hood as a visit to Devon in 1836, when, Julia
Davys being left with Mrs. Bargus, we went
to Puslinch earlier in the year than usual. It
was a time of rare fun and highly developed games,
and they seem to me to have culminated on the
2 1 St of June, Duke's thirteenth birthday. There
was an ordinance against our active spirits disturb-
ing the house at an outrageously early hour in
the morning, and we sent in a petition the night
before that we might rise soon enough to finish

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 115

our purse, our birthday present, before breakfast.
Our ecstasy was unspeakable when Uncle Yonge
answered us in verse. Here are a few lines : —

No doubt when the music has ceased in your nose.

You will rush to the room where the Graces repose,

Miss Mary, Miss Jane, and Miss Prate-apace Anne,

To make them get up as fast as they can

To put on the tags and the tassels so gay

On the purse you have made by night as by day.

Take heed lest my nest you disturb with your racket.

And force me to rise and to put on my jacket,

Then you'll say, " Oh I wish that my restless young head

Had known wisdom enough to lie longer in bed."

How very delightful it was ! We not only
finished our purse, but we walked to Yealmpton
and purchased by subscription a hen canary (I
can see her now, she was of a very pale com-
plexion). I do not think we had holidays on birth-
days, but in the afternoon we went down Undercliff.
The tide was out and we wanted to catch materials
for the feast which was to take place at home.
The two maids were intent over one of Joseph
Mason's Australian letters, and we were left to
our own devices, which resulted in my plunging
ankle deep in the mud, Anne with me, the little
ones following. We were hauled out by the boys,
and the maids made up for their negligence by
scolding us. Harvey, the Puslinch nurse, " Now,
Miss Anne, you don't care, and there's Miss
Charlotte sorry, she's crying ! " Mason, " Now,
Miss Charlotte, don't be crying. It's all pretence.

ii6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

I'd rather you were like Miss Anne, who doesn't
pretend to care."

Our mothers met us, and laughed so much at
the maids' wrath that they forgave us on the spot,
and we had our feast. One captured winkle was
bestowed on me, as the visitor, and being extracted
with a pin disgusted me extremely ! The evening
concluded with " Dicky's Ground," till Duke, always
conscientious, decided that he ought to go in and
learn his lessons.

Thus brilliantly ended childhood's wild delights.
We did not go into Devon again for five years en
famille. Partly I think it was because my grand-
mother was growing too old to be left, and partly
that all that my father could spare of money, and
much of his time, was devoted to the new church.

Already it had become plain that the parish
had outgrown as well as grown away from the
old church. The first idea had been to raise
;^300 to enlarge it, and the proposal had been
made, but G. W. Heathcote had just resigned
the living, and we were advised to wait for the
new incumbent, and he was Mr. Keble ! ^ And
thus came in the chief spiritual influence of my
life ! He resided at Hursley, to which this parish
was then joined, and he retained Mr. Bigg-Wither
as his curate. The church-building plan was taken
up at once, and it was decided to have a fresh
site more in the centre of the parish. In 1836

' Mr. Keble was instituted to the Vicarage of Hursley in January 1836.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 117

church -building was a far less familiar idea than
now ( 1 896) when I take the pen up again !
Architects who had made ecclesiastical subjects
a study were not to be had, and what had been
produced was in the style of Mr. " Compo." ^

My father only knew that he admired York
Cathedral extremely. He and old Canon Vaux
traced out a cross plan with a stick on the ground
at Cranbury. C. W. M. Carter, an architect at
Winchester, supplied a certain amount of technical
knowledge ; the fortification drawing came into use
for working plans, study of Bloxam and Hooker's
books and talk the rest. Finding that the reredos
at the Cathedral was of Caen stone, the French
of the family was employed to write a letter to
a stone-cutter there, the stone-mason at Winchester
was sent over, and the first stones imported of
the quantity since used. As flint could not be
had for the walls, grey brick was used ; wood-
carving was picked up in curiosity shops in
London ; and the labour my father bestowed on
the drawings, the choice of materials, of workmen,
and in superintendence, was beyond calculation.
What is now done by ready tradesmen had all
to be devised, contrived, and executed originally.
There were numerous mistakes and failures from
these ignorances, but at last a church was produced
much in advance of many in reverence and beauty.

The first stone had been laid at Whitsuntide

1 I think this must refer to some local joke. See Paget's St. Autholin's.

ii8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

1837 by Julian. It had been a time of alarm.
My Uncle Duke had died in the preceding year,
and the first move the widow and her daughters,
Delia and Alethea, made was to us. My father,
on the nth of May, was driving my aunt, my
mother, and Julian to Botley in a phaeton, when
on Crowd Hill the horse started and overturned
them into a ditch. Julian fainted, and for three
days after was constantly sick ; my mother's face
was frightfully bruised, and my aunt had concussion
of the brain. My father was unhurt, and the
immediate danger to my aunt was over in a few
days, Julian quite well, so the stone -laying took
place, with a short service, compiled I think by
Mr. Keble. All the ladies murmured, " Pretty
dear," to the boy's exceeding discomfiture !

My aunt was three weeks only half- conscious.
Her first wakening to pleasure was over a collection
of pansies ranged on her bed, and all through life
a flower, a view, a pleasant trifle, would cheer and
brighten her in her many heavy sorrows. When
she was fairly on the way to recovery, she was
asked how many times she thought the doctor
had visited her. Three, she believed — once she
supposed, once she dimly recollected, once she
knew. He had come eighteen times !

She got better and went to the Isle of Wight.
Her second daughter, Alethea, was one of the
most beautiful people I ever saw, with splendid
dark eyes, regular features, and a brilliant com-

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 119

plexion, and she had that effect on all strangers
that one reads of and only half believes. After-
wards they went to Scotland to be near a son
studying medicine at Edinburgh, and then went
to Germany for a year.

This was to us a time of making friendships.
The Kebles had come to Hursley Vicarage, and
as this parish was then joined to Hursley, our
intercourse was doubly close, over church-building
matters, parish affairs, and one especial blessing
of my life, that Mr. Keble prepared me for Con-
firmation, when I was fifteen. It was done by
working through the Catechism and the Communion
service, with the last comparing old liturgies, and
going into the meaning. It was a great happiness,
and opened my mind to Church doctrine, but I
well remember the warning at the end against
taking these things up in a merely poetical tone
for their beauty. He did not call it aesthetically,
for he did not love long words.

The fatherly kindness and the delightful sympathy
I received then never failed, through all the years
of happy intercourse between our two houses. My
master he was in every way, and there was no one
like Mrs. Keble for bright tender kindness. In her
transparency of complexion and clear, dark, hazel
eyes, she was like a delicate flower.

Charlotte Mary Yonge.

CHAPTER IV

GIRLHOOD

So far, Charlotte Yonge has told her own story.
She has shown how the influences of family and
neighbourhood formed her character in early years,
and has recorded the beginning of the intercourse
with John Keble and his wife and sister, which she
truly says formed the great conscious influence; of
her life.

The story of childhood is specially important
in her case, because the child was so entirely the
mother of the woman ; what she was at fifteen,
that she was, with modifications, at fifty. The
principles, the loves, the habits of youth, remained
with her through life, and she lived so much in the
life of her family that her history cannot be picked
out and separated from theirs. The foregoing
record of her early years must now be supple-
mented and continued from other sources. There
are four little papers which she contributed to
Mothers in Council in 1892 and 1893, which are
of great value, and, with one or two articles pub-
lished in the Monthly Packet, cast interesting side-

CHAP. IV

GIRLHOOD 121

lights on her history in her teens. Some of the
letters written to Anne Yonge, and sent by the
cousins, James and John, when they went home from
school at Winchester, because they were not
" thought worth elevenpence for postage," and
franks were scarce, have been preserved ; one or
two are given as specimens. It will be seen that
they are not at all precocious, and I think are
chiefly remarkable as being longer than the letters
most little girls manage to write, and as communi-
cating a great many facts. They were the beginning
of several life -long correspondences. Writing was
to her much more like speaking than is the case with
most people. She never invented letters, but sat
down to write what she wanted at the moment to say.
Her home childhood, as she says herself, "was
solitary. " I have paced alone, on days unfit for
' grubbing,' on the gravel path round our field,
dreaming and castle-building, and it has had the
advantage of learning how to be alone." These
must have been the times when, as she says, " I
imagined ten boys and eleven girls living in an
arbour in the garden, but I can remember nothing
about them except that their names were Caroline
and Lucy ; " and when " a scene in a wood, or
a lane with a child going along it, would be the
theme of a mental story ; " when " there were
perpetual dreams of romance going on, and some-
body was always being wounded in the Peninsular
war and coming back with his arm in a sling."

122 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

In spite, however, of these imaginings, and of
other story books and pets, she was so companion-
able a creature, always so eager to tell and to hear,
to share her enthusiasms, and to imbibe other
people's, that it is no wonder that " cousinland "
was fairyland in her eyes. One of these cousins,
older than herself, still surviving, says that she
always felt that there was something remarkable
about Charlotte, and that her visits were always
the greatest delight. They used to laugh at her
for being clumsy and for not being able to cross
planks or climb stiles easily ; indeed, she was always
unready of foot, though in youth she was a good
walker. She says herself that more comprehension
of the causes of her clumsiness might have enabled her
to overcome it, and though she entirely acquiesces
in the wisdom which checked her high spirits, her
lively tongue, and the vehemence that was only the
effervescence of her strong impulses, her training
appeared to her contemporaries strict, and even
severe. Her father was her ideal, her mother her
closest friend, but a less loyal and loving nature
might have found the criticism and repression hard.
One of the letters which the boy cousins took home
with them for the holidays is here given, as it
records the interesting visit to Oxford, mentioned
in the autobiography, and shows the beginning of
many future tastes. It is written in a large round
hand.

IV GIRLHOOD 123

Otterbourne, y«^ 4, 1834.
My dear Anne — Have you seen any more of Charles's owl ?
The shells got home quite safe. I send you a carrier Trochus
and Charles a waved whelk, Duke a fresh-water mussel, and Jane
a cyprea. I went to the theatre whilst I was at Oxford ; it is a
great large place shaped like a horse shoe ; at the flat end sat all
the musicians and singers on a stand raised on pillars ; in the
middle was a great round place called the area, in which all the
gentlemen squeezed in if they could; at the tip-top of all the
college people all round under them were all the ladies and
doctors ; there were two great sticking-out boxes like pulpits, at
the end of each was an axe tied up in what was meant to look
like the Roman lictors' bundles of rods. The Duke of Welling-
ton sat on a most beautiful velvet cushion on a carved chair.
The Duke of Cumberland on a velvet and gold chair. His
uniform was very funny ; first he wore a red coat, then fastened
on his shoulder a blue coat trimmed with fur ; tied to his sword
was a sort of pocket called a sabre-dash. The Duke of Wellington
wore robes of black and gold. One day when he came to Exeter
C. he kissed Julian and shook hands with me. There were a
great many people besides doctors ; they all wore red robes.
We went to New College and Magdalen ; the windows of the
first were painted all manner of colours, but the other was brown. —
I am your affectionate Charlotte Mary Yonge.

Conchology, power of painstaking description,
interest in historical ceremonial, hero worship, a
mind taken up with outside life and not at all with
her own share in the proceedings — in this letter
the little girl of eleven shows the stuff of which she
was made.

She was told as she approached her teens that
she was " too big a girl " to write to her boy
cousins. Nevertheless the Winchester school-
boys were constantly at Otterbourne for the

124 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

saints' day holidays. In those days thirty coaches
passed every day through Otterbourne, between
Southampton and Winchester, and as the holiday
boys were assembled at supper the butler used
to come into the dining-room and say " Gentlemen,
the last coach is coming down the hill," and out
they would rush and hang on to it somehow, so
as to be back at school in time for calling over.
Charlotte played freely with her cousins. In a
letter to Anne written in March 1836 she says
that she and Johnnie and Julian had made a see-
saw and see-sawed all the afternoon. It is also
noted that Johnnie brought Julian " one of the
new silver fourpenny bits." She also tells Anne,
" One of the things I have to do for M. de
Normanville (her French master) is to write a
story in French, and my story goes on for ever
and ever . . . my poor little girls meet with all
sorts of dangers." It should be noted that Anne
was two years younger than herself, and though
her return letters have not been preserved she
must have been a most intelligent and receptive
child to evoke so much information. The " little
girls " of these French stories, first dreamed of
in the garden summerhouse, and developed through
the Chateau de Melville, met the public in Scenes
and Characters, grew up and grew old with their
creator, and all through life were expressions of
herself

As Charlotte advanced from childhood through

IV GIRLHOOD 125

early girlhood we find, as will be seen, that the
impulse of character creation strengthened, and
was put into the limits of definite tales and stories,
but, as she says, they never appeared to her " as
a work of art but always as a company of friends,"
and she thus defines the impulses that started
them ^ : — " History never failed to have great power
over my imagination. This, and the desire to
supply good tales to my school-children, and the
pleasure of living, as it were, with large families,
were three separate fields of delight in which my
pencil could expatiate." " My mother could not
take long walks, and to go far beyond the garden
with my father or even with a maid was always
something of a treat ; but there were endless
occupations out of doors except on the damp
days, when three times round the gravel walk
which bounded what grandmamma called the
premises was reckoned as equivalent to a mile
and made my required exercise, enlivened by
many a fancy."

The three times would hardly come up to
modern requirements for a young healthy growing
girl ; but to be constantly out of doors was never
natural to Charlotte, and though she was in the
habit afterwards of taking fairly long walks, I
think she always regarded " out of doors " as a
temptation to dawdling.

1 " How the Stories Come," Monthly Packet, January 1893. The statements
in this paper marked 6 are by Miss Yonge. " Life-long Friends," Monthly
Packet, December 1894. The other quotations are from Mothers in Council.

126 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

The school-children for whom she wrote tales
more than contended with the tales for the place
of the main object of her life. But " there was
not cottage -visiting, save within my mother's
short tether, or when sent under escort on a
definite message. I was a great chatterbox, and
my parents had seen evil consequences from
carelessness about young people's intercourse, so
that all gossip and familiarity was decidedly
checked. I have often wondered how far this
was for the best . . . the shyness of other classes
that was engendered has never left me ; and
though I have been working for my villagers all
my life, I have never been able to converse with
them with any freedom, nor so as to establish
mutual confidence, even where there is certainly
mutual esteem and affection, and this has become
a serious drawback to helpfulness, though old use
and loyalty diminishes the evil effects among the
native inhabitants."

I think the drawback was considerable. From
youth to old age the Otterbourne school-children
were the joy and delight of her life. She would
talk of them for hours, and discuss their characters,
their attainments, and their needs, but when they
left school, with a few exceptions, she did not
seem to be able to keep in personal touch with
them. This made her interest be rather in the
class than in the individual, in spite of her strong
interest in personal character. She never forgot

GIRLHOOD 127

her scholars, but the old ones belonged to the past.
No doubt the immense influence of her person-
ality held them to her in a way she did not
guess — indeed after letters often showed it. She
could not, as we say, "keep up" with them. If
she could continue to teach them all was well ;
she was the most skilful and brilliant teacher
I ever knew. She taught in school like the most
sympathetic and cultivated of day-school teachers,
conveying an immense amount of knowledge and
without a trace of stiffness or shyness, while only
two years ago to hear her read Shakespeare with
a young kitchen-maid, or teach French to a
national school-mistress, was delightful. But she
could not talk to girls, and much as in after life
she appreciated the work of the G.F.S. and other
kindred Societies, she would never have been
skilful in carrying it out. I know the names,
habits, and histories of nearly all the inhabitants
of Otterbourne (it will be seen that many of her
letters were full of them), yet I never saw her
stop in the road to speak to a neighbour, and I
think I only once went into a cottage with her.
In fact she kept at seventy the rules imposed on
her when she was seventeen. I think it was only
gradually, and almost of late years, that her village
friends really learned all that she was. Two
anecdotes about her views of school-children occur
to me, showing both her kindliness and good
sense, and her old-fashioned view of good village

128 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

manners. " Oh dear," said a friend, watching the
many- coloured tribe of children running into
school out of Charlotte's drawing-room window,
" look at their smart aprons bound with red,
Alas for the long straight pinafores of our youth ! "
" Why shouldn't they have pretty aprons ? " said
Charlotte, " they look better, and the children
like them." Indeed, she never grudged pretty
clothes or refinements of mind or body, and yet,
on the other hand, when a set of school-girls
asked a girl little older than themselves, a Sunday-
school teacher, to give them a swing, she thought
that they took a great liberty in asking such a
thing of a young lady.

Her faults in early youth were, as she herself
says, those of nerves and temper ; she was very
vehement and eager, and probably never realised
that an interesting subject could bore any one.
She began life with an amount of enthusiasm and
fun inconceivable to most of us. As a girl she
laughed and cried, loved and hated, admired and
despised with all her might, and it was mighty.
She often speaks of herself as " selfish." If so,
self-denial won a great victory over self, but in
youth no doubt her own output was too full to
give much room to consider others. Besides, she
suffered very keenly. She told me once that Mr.
Keble had told her that forecasting and terrors
for those we loved was the price paid for having
an imagination. It is very hard for imaginative

GIRLHOOD 129

people not to fly from the sight of suffering which
they cannot cure, and so lose the chance of
mitigating it. Charlotte, through life, did not fly,
but nature did not make it easy for her to be
helpful in illness, or ready with consolation in
sorrow, and it is possible to make the troubles
of others your own so much as to make active
help difficult.

I think she had to fight this battle all her life,
but she was never beaten in it.

The restriction in youth on long walks and
any sort of solitary roaming and scrambling also
gave a sort of unreadiness in country pursuits.
Strong as were the country tastes which were
her pleasure through life, she could not ride nor
drive, nor manage animals, though she was very
fond of dogs and cats ; she never herself gardened,
though every plant in her garden was an old
friend, welcomed each year with delight. Even in
youth she was never agile or light of hand and
foot in climbing about, and yet she knew the
homes and habits of every wild flower in the
place. She would watch the shepherd leading,
not driving, his flock in Hampshire fashion, and
listen to the various calls by which he brought
them together, but I doubt if she ever talked to
him about them as she passed him by, though she
knew every detail of his life and character.

With her the rules of childhood became the
habits, not to say the principles, of after life, and

K

I30 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chav.

before the point when she declares that her child-
hood ended, we have all the elements of her future
life — deep conscientiousness, loyal love for authority,
warm friendship and kinship, industry, eager interest
in school-children and in nature, and, though by no
means precociously developed, the beginning of the
story-weaving, the character-creation, which was the
main occupation of her after life.

We also see by her own showing that she easily
accepted limitations, social, intellectual, and practical,
regarding them as safeguards rather thai) hindrances.

In 1835 Dr. Moberly became Headmaster of
Winchester, and in the journals and letters kindly
placed at my disposal by his daughters it is
recorded that Mr. and Mrs. William Yonge came
from Otterbourne to call on the new-comers, and
brought their daughter Charlotte with them, then
a girl of twelve. Charlotte herself remembered it,
and said that she thought the beautiful Mrs.
Moberly was like a Madonna in a picture. This
was the beginning of constant and happy inter-
course, and for four consecutive years Charlotte
wrote plays for the young Moberlys to act. The
Strayed Falcon and the Mice at Play, afterwards
published by Messrs. Groombridge in the Magnet
Stories, were among the most notable of these.
Her own letters record her pleasure in the task.
She wrote the parts to suit the performers, and
many were the merry discussions over costumes
and characters. Charlotte was stage-manager, and

GIRLHOOD 131

occasionally helped by taking a part, but she was
not, I fancy, much of an actress.

In 1835, also, John Keble became Vicar of
Hursley, and what Charlotte calls " the great
influence of my life " came into play.

Nothing could have been more alien from the
minds of the " Tractarians " than the idea that they
invented doctrines, or imposed them from abroad
upon the Church of England. Their aim was to
bring out what was already there, to develop what
had been neglected or forgotten.

In the early fifties a very old gentleman used
to read the lessons in St. Mark's College Chapel.
This was the Rev. Thomas Bowdler, author of
Prayers for Christian Households, taken from
Scripture and from ancient Liturgies, and from
the Book of Common Prayer. His father and
grandfather had been non-jurors, and I well
remember being told that " he was a High Church-
man before the High Church movement." I
think this memory helps me to understand in
what kind of soil Charlotte's religious life was
planted.-' The traditions of the Yonge family were
evangelical in tone, and their deep seriousness,
and profound value for scriptural knowledge, fitted
in with the lofty enthusiasms for the newly dis-
covered or newly accentuated truths which filled
the young men and women of that generation with
ardent zeal. Charlotte believed that she received

1 Her grandfather, the Vicar of Cornwood, must have been of this school.

132 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

everything and gave nothing from her own
personality, but I cannot but think that her
delight in and value for religious knowledge, her
strong sense of the paramount importance of doing
right in every particular, did a great deal to spread
" that sober standard of feeling in religious matters "
in her own generation, which it was the object of
her Master — -as she loved to call him — to inculcate.

He must have felt that in the vehement, eager,
unformed girl he had a most exceptional disciple.
She says of his teaching, " It must have visibly
excited and impressed me very much, for his two
warnings when he gave me my ticket were : the
one against too much talk and discussion of Church
matters, especially doctrines ; the other against the
dangers of these things merely for the sake of their
beauty and poetry — aesthetically he would have
said, only that he would have thought the word
affected."

To the end of her life she obeyed these injunc-
tions, not only in the spirit but in the letter, and
the ideas which were thus fostered were the joy
and the inspiration of all her work and of all her
days. And I do not think she ever felt anything
to be really worth doing which was not in some
way, to quote her favourite motto, " Pro Ecclesia
Dei." It was this great object that made self-
culture, or good works, worth while. I do not
think she ever changed the practices and habits
to which she then grew up ; that they came to

GIRLHOOD 133

mean more and more to her no one can doubt,
but she never found any of them hampering or
insufficient for her growing spirit.

LETTERS
To Anne Yonge

August 6, 1838.

My dear Anne — As Sir William Heathcote is coming here
this evening I take this opportunity of writing to you, I hope, to
thank you beforehand for the letter I am to expect on Saturday.
I think your Coronation Festival must have been most splendid,
especially the peacocks' feathers. You must have wanted Duke
to help you arrange it all, I think. I know he always used to be
famous for arrangements. Sarah Williams, a young lady whom I
know very well, was in the Abbey and saw all the Coronation.
Her party went at five in the morning, and though they had to
wait five hours, yet the sight of the people arriving was so amus-
ing that they seemed like five quarters of hours. They were very
much amused by the way in which the foreigners behaved when
they came into the Abbey. They had to pass the seats of the
Peeresses, and no sooner did they come in sight of them than
they all, Marshall Soult at the head of them, stopped short and
began to bow to the ladies, whilst the unfortunate ushers whose
business it was to get them into their places were exceedingly
afraid the Queen would come whilst they were stopping the way,
and at last they raised a report that the Queen was coming and
they all had to get into their places as fast as ever they could.
But when the English Peers came they all walked into their
places, scarcely looking at the ladies. Mrs. Harcourt^ and
Caroline Jervis were staying here the week before last, and they
made a very pleasant visit. Mrs. Harcourt gave me a most beauti-
ful workbox as large as mamma's and inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
The thimble is a Coronation thimble. On one side of the rim it
has " Victoria " and on the other " Crowned, 28th of June 1838."

1 Mrs. Vernon Harcourt, her godmother.

134 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

The box is fitted up with blue watered silk and it has scissors,
knife, pinchers, and all sorts of working tools. As to the pinchers
I do not know what use in work they can be, but the woman who
sold it told Mrs. Harcourt that they were to take out thorns out
hunting, but I think it is possible to get thorns in one's fingers
without going out hunting. Yesterday Mrs. Chamberlayne's two
youngest children were brought to church to be christened.
They were to come at half-past-two but were late, and we got to
church just as Mr. Wither was going to take the little girl,
Francesca Maria, into'his arms. She behaved very well, but when
Mr. Wither took Frederick Cranley, who is about two years and a
half old, he cried terribly. There were so many people that came
to the christening that there was no room in the great Cranbury
pew, so several of the gentlemen went into their servants' pew, and
grandmamma, who was in Mr. Wither's, took Mr. Chamberlayne ^
into this. To-day there is a great cricket match at Cranbury between
Hampshire and Mary-le-bone to which everybody is invited, papa
among the rest, so he and Julian are gone there to see it. We
have a chicken with three legs belonging to the little bantam hen.
I hope we shall not lose it, of which there seems some chance, as
Thomas Powell has just lost sixteen old hens and fifteen couple
of chickens. We can now vie with you in singing birds, as I had
a present the other day of three live canary birds, one of which, a
green one, we have given to the little baker, and the other two, one
yellow with a black saddle on its back and one very like a gold-
finch, we keep. Julian has given them the names of Saddle and
Goldfinch. Mr. Wither moved into his new house last Thursday,
and it looks very comfortable indeed with all the furniture that we
saw at Mrs. Warren's. He has at length had his poor old dog
Psyche killed. Grandmamma says she was grown like a pig. I
have finished little Alice Moberly's shoes at last, and now I am
doing a paper case in tent-stitch on wire. It is a pattern of
carnations. Miss Tucker's aunt has been staying here and has
taken back little Alfred. Miss Emma has been ill, so there is
some fear of Miss Katherine's being wanted to supply her place
at home, which would be a terrible thing for Miss Tucker. The

1 Mr. Chamberlayne of Cranbury Park, the great house of Otterboume.

IV GIRLHOOD 135

church, I hope, will get on a little faster now, for there are fifteen
workmen at it to-day, and the tower is up and one of the bells
and the school-bell are come. You cannot think how pretty
the new bell-turret looks amongst the trees from a distance,
especially from the poor old church. The Boys' School (which
mamma says is built of pincushions and penwipers, and do
you not think that your W. H. W. B. W. bookmarker must
have had something to do with it ?) gets on very well and is
come to the windows. I do not know what Julian would say to
that parenthesis, as he has a great objection to parenthesis,
especially in his Csesar. The answer to Charles's riddle was S, as
if you add S to I it makes IS, the Latin for him. The answer to
the one about the Coronation is, because it is a rare occurrence,
i.e. rare o' currants. It is a very bad one, but is funny. Mamma
desires you to guess why a mouse is like mangel-wurzel ? I
suppose you have been out in the boat this summer, if it was not
too wet. Mamma desires me to say that she fully intended to
write, but just before papa went off to Cranbury he gave her
something to draw for the church, nevertheless she does not
forget the obligations she owes to Aunt Yonge and great A and
little a,i and she will certainly answer their letters, with all and each
of which she was very much pleased. Mrs. Royle is here talking
to mamma and grandmamma very fast. I do so wish that the
Mags might have an answer to their letters. They have both
been moulting, and Stumpy's new tail is growing very fast, and
Longtail is shabby in nothing but his head, which is covered with
young feathers looking so funny. He pecked my throat furiously
about a fortnight ago, besides stealing two pair of Martha's
scissors and mamma's thimble, but now papa has cut his wing
and grandmamma has put up a net in front of the drawing-room
window, so that he cannot get in so well as he could before, which
makes him " send forth his venomous noise '' most vehemently.
Mamma's whooping-cough is almost gone now and Julian only
coughs in the night in hip sleep, so he has it very comfortably
without waking himself. There is to be a Confirmation here on
the first of October, when I hope I am to be confirmed. I am to

• Alethea and Anne.

136 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

go to Mr. Keble's to be examined. Mrs. Keble does not seem the
worse for her journey. I have not set about the story in the
Davenport family yet, but I hope I shall some time or other. I
wonder whether this letter will arrive before you send yours. If
it does pray tell me whether a certain black chrysalis with a
yellow corkscrew round him belongs to that caterpillar that you
and I saw eating when we gathered the gooseberries, and what
sort of moth he comes to. Little Whorley was very ill all night,
but is a great deal better this morning. Richard Smith could
not be found last night to give them an order for Mr. Dennis, so
they went without him. Mr. Rudd, Alfred's friend of bows and
hospital paper, has been going on ever since better and worse, but
now Mr. Wither thinks he cannot live much longer. Papa has
bought the blacksmith's shop that was Betsy Comely's, so Mr.
Wither says that I in future must represent her. She is going to
live there still though, and Julian informs us that the new black-
smith will make edged tools.

Extract from Letter to Anne Yonge

. . . Mr. Wither has given Julian, that is, is to give him on
his birthday, though I have it now to keep, Thoughts in Past
Years, a book of poetry by Mr. Isaac Williams, a friend of Mr.
Keble's, and I like it exceedingly. Mr. Keble is going to
publish a new version of singing Psalms, and they are almost
ready. William and George Heathcote have a tutor these
holidays. His name is Mr. Mules. I think you will be
surprised to hear of your old friends the Young Ladies being in
print The truth is, that we were somewhat in despair about
the Girls' School. We would have another bazaar if we had
not thought that people would be tired of it ; so mamma and
I were one day looking over my French translations which had
all been duly corrected by the old Monsieur. They consisted
of the Faithful little Girl, Corylla, Mamma's New Story without
an End, a Fairy Tale of Miss Talbot's, etc., which, using the
Young Ladies as a peg to hang them upon, we thought would
do very well to publish for the benefit of the School, so the
Young Ladies really made a very pretty story, with the nonsense

GIRLHOOD 137

being taken away as much as we could. The papa is a Colonel
at first and then Jules goes into the army, and the story ends
with Aunt Selina, Henrietta, Rosalie and Pauline setting off to
join them at Paris, just after Waterloo. I hope the story is not
very foolish, but I am in hopes that it has a little better moralite
than the French stories by the French themselves usually have.
Now the cost of printing 300 copies will be £,y>, and when we can
get 109 copies taken at 5s. 6d. apiece, the printing will be paid
for, and the rest will be clear gain to the School ; but as we do
not mean to run any risk, it is not to be printed till we have 100
copies promised to be taken, and I want to know how many
you think you will be able to dispose of for us. I hope, Aftne,
you do not think me horribly vain and presumptuous, but I am
sure I should be glad to be able to do the slightest thing for
the School, and if you find anything very nonsensical, you must
remember it was written by your shatter-brained cousin of fifteen.
It is to be called Le Chateau de Melville, ou Recreations du
Cabinet d'Atude. I am going to have the sheets looked over
by M. de Normanville. About thirty copies we can reckon
upon. Now I have written so much about my own affairs that
I am ashamed of it, so all I shall say in this page is, that I most
sincerely wish you, dear Anne, a very happy New Year, in which
I hope we shall see each other.

To Anne Yonge

Otterbourne, Sept. 25, 1838.

My dear Anne — Though I wrote to you so short a time ago,
I cannot let an opportunity pass without writing. I wished for
you last Friday, for I think you would have liked our party of
pleasure. As it was St. Matthew's Day, we asked leave out for
Johnnie, Duke, Archer and Charles Wither at seven o'clock in
the morning. They came here in a fly, the horses of which
were afterwards put on to our close carriage. But I had better
tell my own story, for I do not know what was going on at
Otterbourne at that time. I have not told you that the occasion
of all this set out was to see the first stone of Ampfield Church
laid. At a quarter past ten Duke and I set off in the fly for

138 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Mr. Keble's, Duke to take back word at what time Mr. and Mrs.
Keble meant to set off for Ampfield, I to go to church, have my
lecture and dine, and a delightful morning I had there. Dinner
was over, the gig with Whitethorn, the flea-bitten grey horse, was
at the door, and Mr. Keble began to say there was no time to
lose. We began to think that mamma was not coming for me,
so they said they had room for me ; so behind in the carriage
I went with Caroline Coxwell, where she and Alethea made that
fine telescope with their bonnets on the Netley Abbey day.
We were just settled when the carriage came with mamma, but
I stayed where I was, and fine fun Caroline and I had, for we
went over the park anyhow, over dells which the post-horses
behind looked finely amazed at, and we looked back and laughed.
Then we came into Ampfield wood and passed the place where
Caroline and I left you and mamma sitting near the great ants'
nest, and we talked of that pleasant day. Then we came into
the road and there we found a great assembly of people arriving,
three carriages from the park, two carriages of our own, and
more from all Hursley. The church is in a beautiful place,
where the Hampshire paper says "An appropriate service was
performed by the Rev. J. Keble." Little Gilbert Heathcote
laid the stone, spread the mortar about underneath in fine style,
and finally gave the stone three taps with a mallet. Then came
some of the 132nd Psalm, which was exceedingly appropriate,
especially the sixth verse, when we looked round and saw the
plantations of fir-trees round us. No sooner was the service
finished than Mr. Fowler the steward stooped down and kissed
Gilbert, saying " Little dear." You know when Julian laid our
first stone everybody said " Pretty dear," which made him very
angry, so we had a fine laugh at him. In the evening Johnnie
and I had some fine games at backgammon, in every one of
which he beat. The Confirmation is to be next Monday, and
I am very sorry papa will not be at home on that day. I went
to Hursley yesterday for the last time before it, and Mr. Keble
gave me my ticket. He is so kind as to promise to go on with
me after the Confirmation, which I am very glad of. The
church bells are to be put up to-day, and the inside is being
painted, paved, and plastered, but the work does not make much

IV GIRLHOOD 139

show. Papa says he wishes the men would employ the time of
his absence in drinking all they mean to drink till the church
is finished, so Mr. Wither is going to give them a supper on
Michaelmas Day I believe. Tell Alethea that Mr. Rudd, the
tall man we took the hospital paper to, is dead, and as it was
said that he was the handsomest coachman that ever drove to
St. James's, his wife thought, I suppose, that he would make a
fine skeleton, so she had his grave done two feet deeper than
usual that he might not be dug up again, and employed two
people to watch him every night ; but those people being great
poachers spent the night at the river, and left the poor man to
his fate. Poor Mrs. Moore has been disappointed of her journey
to Bognor, for they were actually on the road, when about
Guildford Mr. Moore was taken so ill that she was obliged to go
back again, and she does not wish to leave town again. He is
better now I believe. I had a letter from Alethea at Heidelbourg
the other day. Aunt Duke had had some bad headaches for
the last few days, which was the only new news to you I suppose.
Old Mag has just had his wing cut, which affronts him very
much. Mamma held his beak whilst papa cut his wing. I
have now three hundred and ninety-seven dried flowers. I hope
your work will be ready to come by papa as well as Jane's night-
cap. Tell Charles that Julian is learning Greek and has got
as far as 6, rj, to, and can read a line of the Greek Testament
without help. A gentleman who has been a good deal in
Germany told us the other day that Heidelbourg was a bad
town, so I am glad that Aunt Duke lives out of it. I enclose
the form that was used at the laying the first stone. Give my
love to Jane and Frances, and tell them that I hope to have a
letter from each of them by papa. Mamma will be very glad
of her worsted if you can get it for her, and pray send a pair of
black purse sliders, for one of those of the beautiful purse, both
yellow and black, is broken, though the purse is as good as
new. — In the meantime I am, dear Anne, your very affectionate

Charlotte M. Yonge.

I40 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Extracts of Letters to Anne Yonge

1837. — I wish you could see my young ladies, who have ad-
vanced to copy-books since they were at Puslinch. All their
uncles, aunts, and cousins are staying with them, and in the
midst of all poor Rosalie's horse threw her, and she had a strain
which is keeping her on the sofa. One evening when everybody
but her and her friend Isabella were gone to see the Eddystone,
they heard a carriage come to the door, and after some time up
came the man with a card on which was written Colonel Melville.
He was their Uncle Frederick who had gone out to India five
years before, and in coming back was supposed to have been
drowned, as nothing has been heard of him since, 1837.^

1838. — On my birthday I went to breakfast with Mr. Keble,
and then after I had my examination, or rather Mr. Keble talking
about the catechism to me so kindly.

In 1839, Journey to West Dean. — At the Hall is a beautiful
picture of King Charles the martyr, a full-length, and with the
beautiful forehead we always see him drawn with.

1839.- — I am going to Hursley to-day to stay with Mr. Keble,
in the hopes of hastening the departure of this tiresome cold. I
like the thought of the visit very much, though it being the first
time of my staying out by myself, how I shall manage winding
up my watch remains to be proved.

( Wedding of Mr. Peter Young)

The bride looked very well and very pretty in a white chalet
gown with silk stripes, a tippet the same as the gown, and a white
silk bonnet and veil. ... I must say this wedding really seemed
the wedding of children of the church, for we all went to the
daily service at the usual time, then the Communion service was
read as far as the Nicene Creed, then they were married, the
children went out and the Sacrament was administered. Mr.
Keble read the morning service and married them, and Mr.
Thomas Keble read the Commandments. I assure you all this
greatly took off from the mere feeling of rejoicing and merriment
at a marriage.

1 Ch&teau de Melville.

GIRLHOOD 141

Notes by Miss Yonge, Rockdale, Yealmpton, the
"Mary Yonge" of the Letters

From my earliest recollections of C. M. Yonge she always
struck me as being different from other children of her own age.
In fact, although she was five years younger than me, I used to
feel how superior she was to me in knowledge, etc. Yet in those
days she joined with me and my sisters in all our amusements.
Particularly I remember our all getting into disgrace by getting
into the " Black Mud " on the sea-shore below Puslinch, to the
anger of our nurse " Harvey " and hers, the faithful " Mason."

We always looked forward with pleasure to our walks with her,
and even when five years old she would tell us histories of her
children as she called them, her dolls, as well as children of her
imagination, who all seemed as real to her and to us as if they
had been living beings, and I can now clearly remember the
delight of listening to her histories of them after we were in bed,
for she and I and one sister shared the same room ; also our
distress when Mason came with a peremptory order of " No more
talking." She was always very obedient, and both her father and
mother were strict over her, which was what made us very sorry
for her sometimes. Shy she certainly was with her elders, but
we had many delightful days after my cousins returned from
Canada and were for a time at Kitley, and we used to meet daily
and take long walks, and have long talks about botany, etc., etc.

I do not remember the date of Abbey Church, but she wrote
little shorter stories, Anne in London, Leonard the Lion-heart,
etc., and used to read over to us any addition she had made
during the day.

It was very striking her natural fear of a gun, or any loud
report. I know she was once terrified when my brother brought
his shot belt into the room, as if there was danger of its explod-
ing, and never liking to hear of what sport they might have had
in a day's shooting. She never, up to a late period, had much
pleasure in a boating expedition, and I believe she never forgot
the fright we once had in Plymouth harbour by being nearly in
collision with a yacht.

You ask if she "used often to talk of her books"? She

142 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

always seemed after she grew up to have a diffidence in doing so,
and shrunk into herself if people or strangers began to ask her
about them. I can remember, however, that it was most inter-
esting to hear her discussing the Waterloo time with Lord Seaton,
and again, after his return from Canada, all that time of the
Rebellion and Church matters there, in which he took so great a
part. She had such a pleasing and attractive manner in talking
to people, after the first little fit of shyness passed olF. A lady
once remarked to me not many years ago, " What a shy reserved
manner Miss Yonge has, looking at me as if I was a lion and
afraid of me." Yet you and I know this was really only in great
measure her feeling a sort of idea that people were come to look
at her as a wonder. She was always so particular to close her
blotting-book or shut up her manuscript if any visitor was shown
into the drawing-room ; this was even up to the last time she was
here at Rockdale. Then I think she was writing for the Mothers
in Council Journal, 2XiA particularly about " Skirt Dancing " and
" Tennis Parties."

As children we used to laugh at her careful way of going
downstairs, or across any little plank over a rivulet, and her fear at
the loud blasting of a rock. Even last year she said in a letter
to me, " How glad you must be the railway is not to be extended
farther, and I hope you are now free from those loud rock ex-
plosions so startling and so dangerous." What a tender heart she
had also, not the smallest insect, etc., would she hurt, and how
cruel she thought you if you killed a wasp, and the same with
regard to fishing. I have heard many discussions on that point,
on hunting also. I remember her refusing to go in our boat
when one of the boatmen put out a hne and brought in a fish
into the boat. She saw it still breathing in the bottom of the
boat. It was a trait of her truly tender heart which was ever
open to every one. Yet how firm was her determination to do
what was the right thing ; she never shrank from what was duty ;
and how reverent she was in a thousand ways, though unobserved
by men. I recollect one Sunday when returning from church I
heard her say to her mother — she was about six years I think —
" Mamma, I could not understand that clergyman's sermon, it
was too difficult, so I employed myself in thinking how very

GIRLHOOD 143

wrong Abraham was to say that Sarah was his sister. Was I
naughty to think about that instead of the sermon ? "

Was she pretty ? you ask. Yes, she was a remarkable-looking
child with such bright gleaming eyes, and her dark hair in ring-
lets on each side ; then she was slight and with a good figure and
upright, and never to be seen lolling about in an easy-chair or
sofa, as, alas ! so many young folks do now. Her mother never
dressed her in any very stylish way — plain and neat, and no
bangles or curb-chain bracelets ; in fact, of late years I used to
wish she thought a little more of her own dress, etc., but that
never entered her head I think, though her faithful Harriet would
sometimes suggest a thing.

CHAPTER V
1837-1850

GROWING POWERS

It has seemed best in dealing with a life so out-
wardly uneventful as that of Charlotte Yonge to
try to give a clear impression of her life in all its
aspects at different times, rather than to chronicle
the exact sequence of the small events which
diversified it. She brings her own story, which
the preceding chapters and letters have illustrated,
up to the date of her Confirmation, which took
place in the autumn of 1837. The next period
may be said to reach to the time when the Heir
of Redcly_ffe began to be written in the opening of
1850. These thirteen years were spent in the
even flow of happy, prosperous, energetic girlhood.
Their chief events for her were those connected
with the building of church and schools in Otter-
bourne, the development of her intercourse with
Mr. and Mrs. Keble, the commencement and
growth of her friendship with the Dyson family,
and the invention and publication of the books

prior to the Heir of Redclyffe. The time of

144

cHAP.v GROWING POWERS 145

their conception and invention was much more
important to her than that of their publication ; they
filled nearly all her thoughts and her leisure except
what were devoted to the school-children in whom
she delighted, and they were all in hand pretty
much at the same time. They were all excellent in
their way and successful, but they were presented,
so far as she was concerned, to her own circle ; she
was still to herself a girl seeking the approval of
her older friends, and with the pubHcation of the
Heir of Redclyffe she became a famous person and
one of the authors of her time. She had those
greatest joys of high-minded and enthusiastic youth,
hero-worship, and the sense of being in the van of
one of the great movements of the day ; but whereas
in many cases young people buy these joys by
discord with their elders and by severance from
home interests, in Charlotte's case authority,
family ties, faculty, and aspiration all flowed in the
same full and powerful stream, and for her the
xi&yNt.s\. youngest thing was to do home and family
duties more perfectly. What greater happiness
can be given to youth ? The fact was the keynote
of her character, and produced that atmosphere of
mingled ardour and submission in which she lived
all her life, while all other contemporary and con-
tending inspirations were so entirely outside her
ken that she did not so much oppose them as
remain in ignorance almost of their existence, and
certainly of their force.

L

146 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

It would be useless to deny that this environment
produced limitations when in her turn she became
the leader and the oracle, but it is also true that it
produced her, for which her generation may well be
thankful to it.

Her life was varied by a very occasional share in
rather brilliant society, and by intercourse with
such men as Lord Seaton, Sir William Heathcote,
and Sir John Coleridge, and this, besides her devo-
tion to her own father, gave her all her life a strong
belief in the religion and goodness of laymen, surely
a very valuable possession for a clever woman.
Besides all the dear girl-cousins, she also saw a
great deal of clever young men, Yonges, Coleridges,
and Colbornes, so that her friends were by no means
exclusively feminine.

She has herself told us how charming Mr. Keble
was in daily life, and Hursley Vicarage was, it must
be remembered, an intellectual as well as a re-
ligious centre of a high kind. There were also
Dr. Moberly and his family. Warden Barter of
Winchester, and other like-minded neighbours and
friends, so that her early life was extremely full of
interest and companionships, and was not in the
least dull or provincial.

No doubt she preferred the Sunday School class
to the dinner-party, but it must be remembered
that that class embodied all the new views for which
her heroes were fighting.

The drawing taken of her by Richmond, here

GROWING POWERS 147

reproduced, while it shows her as a handsome
dark-eyed girl, gives, I should suppose, very little
idea of the brilliancy and vigour of her face. She
was always, by her own account, awkward in move-
ment, and did not manage her dress well, but it
does not at all appear that she despised pretty clothes,
either on herself or other people.

When she was about twenty — it is difficult, and
perhaps not very important, to find the exact date —
she became acquainted with Miss Marianne Dyson,
the sister of Mr. Charles Dyson, the Vicar of
Dogmersfield, a college friend of Sir John Coleridge
and Mr. Keble. As far as I can make out from the
letters, Charlotte must have been taken either by the
Kebles or the Coleridges to visit the Dysons, and a
life-long friendship was at once formed, and an
almost daily correspondence begun.

Miss Dyson was twenty years older than
Charlotte, and something of an invalid ; she was
lame and suffered from headaches, but she must
have been a woman of much force and cultivation,
with a great enthusiasm for education.

Her charming story Ivo and Verena will be
remembered by many as one of the joys of youth,
and she really was almost the first pioneer of
middle -class education for girls. She set up a
small boarding-school for superior village girls ; this
was afterwards modified, perhaps when the improve-
ment of village schools made the first plan less
necessary, into one for the preparation of girls

148 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

for the teaching profession, but in these early
days about half a dozen girls, children of superior
servants and small tradespeople, were housed in a
cottage at Dogmersfield under a matron, and were
mainly taught and looked after by Miss Dyson.
No doubt experiments were tried, and a good deal
was expected of these little maidens, but the
scheme was worked on the fine principle of giving
them the very best their teacher had to bestow in
the way of cultivation and refined interests.
Charlotte's first efforts at educational writing were
made for the benefit of these children. Kings of
England, Tke Chosen People, and teaching which
afterwards developed into Conversations on the
Catechism, were sent to Miss Dyson regularly for
the use of " Calfdom," as the little school was
playfully called, probably because the little calves
were fed with the milk of literature — certainly they
had the milk of human kindness. The village
children at Dogmersfield went by the name of the
" Dogs," those of Otterbourne were called the
" Otters," and the doings and sayings of the various
classes were repeated to each other by these friends
in the early letters of that life-long correspondence
which, together with that with Anne Yonge, forms
the basis of this memoir. Charlotte's devotion to
her Sunday School class was such that she actually
wrote out on Sunday evening the answers which the
" Otters " had given to her in the morning, and sent
the report to Miss Dyson. No wonder that the

V GROWING POWERS 149

Langley School children come to us " in their habit
as they lived."

In 1842, when Charlotte was nineteen, the
first number of the Magazine for the Young
was brought out by Miss Anne Mozley, the sister
of Richard Mozley of Derby, the well-known Church
publisher. This small and unpretending twopenny,
" The Pink Mag." as it was called by its friends, "was
remarkable among children's magazines through
all its career for good sense, refinement, and
absence of folly. Charlotte began very soon to
contribute little stories and papers to it, and in
1847 Langley School began in its pages. What-
ever this record of the doings and sayings of a
set of village school-children may have done for
the school-child readers themselves, it is certain
that it set a whole generation of girls to work
at village school -teaching, and no one who knew
the little girls of Langley will ever forget them.
Clementina, who came to school with her bonnet
strings flying and was made to tie them before
she went to church, clever Kate, good Amy, and
conceited Rose, in their pink cottons and white
capes, are as real to many as their own young
playfellows, and moreover, when they reappeared
recently as head servants and elderly matrons
they were still their very selves, unerring
character studies, which have been often imitated,
but rarely, if ever, equalled.

For this was really the gift given to Charlotte,

152 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

in the Appendix to show on what kind of founda-
tion she buih up the conversations which form so
large a part of her published writings. Most of
them took place at Puslinch, but some few at Heath's
Court, and in Eaton Square when staying with Lord
and Lady Seaton.

It appears from the Heath's Court conversation
that brilliant young men and learned judges were
more ready to discuss ,with interest stories for
little girls than would seem likely at the present
day, and an interesting side-light is thrown on
the fact that these children's stories by Miss
Sewell, Miss Newman (sister to the Cardinal), and
by Charlotte herself, were even then recognised
as contributions to the literature of the great
Church movement.

The local events that chiefly interested Charlotte
during this period were the consecration of the
new church at Otterbourne in 1839, and the
gift to the parish of the vicarage house by Mr.
Keble in 1846. She paid a visit, after a con-
siderable interval, to Puslinch, I think in 1843,
certainly in 1844, and these were followed by
subsequent ones.

She contributed articles to the Magazine for
the Young from soon after 1842 onwards. Abbey
Church, or Self -Control and Self-Conceit was pub-
lished in 1 844.^ Scenes and Characters, or Eighteen

1 Her elder relatives did not think well of this story, but Dean Church,
then a young Oxford don, said to Lady Seaton, " It is a very clever book.

GROWING POWERS 153

Months at Beechcroft in 1847, and Kings of England
in 1848. Henrietta's Wish appeared in the Church-
mans Companion in 1848, and subsequently the Two
Guardians; but besides these, Kenneth, or The
Rearguard of the Grand Army^ the first part of the
Landmarks of History, a story that subsequently
developed into the Castle Builders, two continua-
tions of Abbey Church which were never published,
the germs of the Little Duke and the Lances of
Lynwood, and even of the Prince and the Page,
the Chosen People, and the first beginnings of
Conversations on the Catechism, were all in process
of development and under discussion at this time,
besides various others, "ideas" which, as far as I
can trace them, did not take any final shape.

The accompanying letters are chosen to show
the kind of interests filling Charlotte's mind at
this period. The fact of the unpublished con-
versations being recorded is characteristic of her.

and the young lady will write well in future." "Oh, why?" said the lady.
" Because every character, however simple, is perfectly distinct and living."

' Charlotte once said that before she published her first book (Abbey
Church) there was a family council held, as to whether she should be
allowed to do so. In consenting, there was an understanding that she
would not take money herself for it, but that it would be used for some
good work — it being thought unladylike to benefit by one's own writings.
Asked what she would have done if forbidden to publish, she quickly replied,
" Oh, I must have written ; but I should never have published — at least not
for many years."

Shiverydown, as Kenneth was at first called, was begun long before its
publication. Her father used every evening to hear her read what she
had written in the day, and then altered her expressions and criticised ; till
even the dutiful girl found it impossible to write in such fetters and laid it
aside, to be re- written later on. — M.A.M.

154 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

They also show how habitual was the discussion
of botany and history in her circle. Otherwise
they are not of much intrinsic interest. Her
grandmother, Mrs. Bargus, died in 1848.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, October 29.

My dear Driver — I rather doubted about sending you
Cyrus, because, as you will see, he does not stand alone, but is a
chapter of general history, and therefore is not very minute, nor
has he been written more than once, so that you must excuse
numerous deficiencies and please to let me have him again. To
my shame be it spoken I have not read Clarendon ; we ought to
have read him aloud when we were diligent Dicks, instead of
which I was set to read him to myself when I was too young
and could not get on. I think you get a great deal of him well
adapted in Lodge, but you see I am not competent to give an
opinion. Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers cannot help being
interesting in spite of the man that writes it. I think you would
find it a useful string to your bow. He certainly makes out a
very good case for Rupert, who, always having been rather a pet
of mine, I am glad to see exculpated. It seems that he fought
Marston Moor against his own opinion, under positive orders
from Charles, which he never showed to any one under all the
accusations he suffered, but carried about him to his dying day.^
I wish I could do more to help you where you are. Don't be
afraid for the Confirmation story, it will be written all the quicker
when it once begins for being well cogitated at first, and I do
cogitate it. Lucy and Juliet are the names of the sisters still,
I could not make the first do with any other. I have been settling
how Lord Herbert begins the Confirmation with them — something
in this way ; they are staying at his parsonage, you know, just
after he and Constance are come back from Madeira. He says,

^ A justification for the episode mjohn Inglesant.

GROWING POWERS 155

" Don't you think, Lucy, that you could be spared to stay with
us till after the Confirmation." He was little prepared for the
manner in which his invitation was received. Lucy rose up
and sat down, then said with an effort, while the tears began to
flow, " Oh, Herbert, you don't know how bad I am ! When
Aubrey died, and I was ill, then I thought I was really going to
be good, and we set to work and made rules, and went to Mr.
Fellowes to be prepared for Confirmation. Then I was out of
spirits and weak after all that had happened, and mamma
thought it was the Confirmation, and took us to London, and
Juliet and I came out ! And I could not help liking the parties
very much, only what with them and with the masters too, all my
time was taken up, and I could not mind my rules, and so
whenever I got time to think I only found myself growing worse
and more unhappy."

So this is to be the state of mind in which he takes her up.
And I have made out why Constance was so superior. I think
the three sisters were sent home when Constance was seven,
Lucy five, Juliet four, and all put under the protection of an
uncle, Mr. Berners, who always lives abroad, and concerns
himself no more about them than to send them to a very good
clergyman's widow who takes young Indians, and there they
stay till Constance is thirteen or fourteen, when on their father's
death or mother's second marriage they are suddenly recollected
and all moved to the fashionable school where they have been
ever since, Constance having brought away with her too much
good to be spoilt in the atmosphere there, perhaps confirmed
before she goes. At seventeen she goes to stay about with
relations preparatory to going to India, stays with some school-
fellow for the consecration of a church where Lord Herbert,
just ordained, is to be curate. She is a delicate, graceful, winning,
white-lily sort of person, not striking, but very lovely, and he
forthwith falls over head and ears in love and only waits to get
all the different people's consents. Lucy and Juliet spend one
happy little week of summer holidays with them at his curacy,
and are promised Christmas, then he grows ill and is ordered
abroad, and they have one little meeting with him and Constance
in London. All this before the beginning of the story. If

156 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Henrietta^ does not tarry on the road again your mind will be
relieved about Fred on Thursday, and I hope the Old Slave's
aunt will recover it. I am just sending off two chapters more.
My idle work now is writing a play for the Moberlys' Christmas
sport, about that time when Edward III. and Philippa found
their children left all by themselves in the Tower. As they say
great novelists cannot succeed in the drama, I suppose I shall
make a fine mess of it, but it will do for them at any rate to
make fun of. Do you want to know where to get red cloak stuff
two yards wide at four shillings per yard. Mamma saw some at
the Consecration in Sussex, and has a famous bale of it which is
just going to be made up. I read a piece of the Allegro at
school last week, and I never saw a child in a state of greater
delight than Marianne Small, Elizabeth's younger sister. I have
just given Jane Martin a real old Christian Year?- Thanks for
the news of Aliens ; the economical fire amuses us much.
Abbey Church No. 3 would begin after the laughing. — Your
most dutiful C. M. Y.

Extract from Letter to Miss Dyson

Sunday, 1846.

My dear Driver — I never expected Henrietta to produce
such pretty fruits. I am delighted with it. I wish you would
give Linny Sintram to read, and see what she would make of
it. Ours are hearing it with great satisfaction. The Tree was
very successful ; the gentlemen would come to look on, which
made the children very silent, but they were exceedingly happy.
Mr. Wither cut down the fruit, and there was much fun. They had
^ffl^manners exactly, merry and joyous, whispering to each other,
and never pushing forward, altogether very nice. They had two
pomegranates for tea, which Fanny told them came from Spain ;
then they looked at certain Indian birds of which they are never

1 Henrietta's Wish.

^ This means not The Child's Christian Year. The story here dwelt on
developed into the Castle Builders. The letter is given as a specimen of
the way Charlotte discussed all her tales with her friend, and also as showing
the way in which they gradually grew up in her mind.

V GROWING POWERS 157

tired, and at my shells, some of which were so little that Lucy
marvelled how a fish could be got into them. And the evening
was filled up with dissected maps.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, May 14, 1848.

My dear Driver — Thank you for all your encouragement
with regard to. Henrietta; I assure you I mean to have my own
way, and if the Churchman finds he has caught a Tartar, he must
make the best of it. I am very angry with Sister's Care, for it
has done the very thing I wished not to have been done, that is to
say, in one way I am glad of it, for I made a bargain with Mary that
if she killed her child she must leave me in peace to kill my mother,
so now she only threatens me with Henry. However, I am much
of your opinion about the story, I think Lizzie is rather over-senti-
mental, at least I never saw the child (no, but once) who was not
in too great raptures at getting out in the world to think of any-
thing else. It is easy to think it the best in the Churchman with-
out liking it nearly as well as Michael?- I hope the cow ^ goes
on and prospers. I intended Warwick's relationship to be the
reason of his taking the York party. I have really set about the
Cameos, and have done a bit of Rollo to get my hand in, and then
a bit of " the kingdom of Northumbria " by way of real beginning
"for good." I was thereto much encouraged by a letter to "the
writer of The Kings of England''' from the sub-warden of St.
Columba, where it seems the younger class read it, suggesting
some alterations, such as genealogical tables, etc., and notices of
styles of architecture, etc., in the manner of Mr. Neale, also in-
troductions of poetry, instancing Drayton's Polyolbion and Gray's
Bard. To architecture and poetry I turned a deaf ear, because
I think one thing at a time is enough ; and as to Gray's Bard,
you know I have far too much tenderness for the ruthless king so
to asperse him, and besides, I do not know what to say about the

1 Michael the Chorister, a little story which led the way to many others,
and was written by Miss Mary Coleridge and published anonymously.

2 The matron of the little girls, the "calves."

158 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Christian temper of the old bard himself. He also wanted more
about the Crusades, for which he referred me to Mr. Abraham's
lectures, and altogether I thought he was worthy to be encouraged
with a promise of the Cameos. Also Mr. Mozley sends me a
letter from a Mr. Douglas, a clergyman, wanting a cheap village
school edition, but Mr. Mozley says we must get rid of some of
the 2000 new ones first. I know I wish he would let me have
some solid pudding as well as empty praise. How glad I am
that they will have the wedding at Ottery after al],i though I
suppose there will be fewer of the people she would like to have.
The Kebles have their great tea-drinking on Ascension Day, and
on Whit Tuesday they go to Bisley, and on to Exeter to Tom's
ordination. I suppose Henry Coleridge will be ordained then
too. I wonder if you have any later news than ours of Miss
Sellon ; I can hardly believe she will live, she is so much too
good for the world, and I suppose there must be a martyr to
make the cause come to good.

I imagine you under the tree where I first made your acquaint-
ance, no, not first, for you once came to see the church, but
where I made your acquaintance for good and put on the yoke
of slavery. I wish I had some Alderney ^ to send, but a slave
can't do more than she can do. By the bye, we have some
Miss Yards come to live here, who seem disposed to do much in
the school way. — Your very obedient and devoted

C. M. Y.

From Mrs. Yonge to Miss Dyson

June 14, 1849.

My dear Miss Dyson — If developments interest you, you
should begin with Charlotte long before Abbey Church, and trace
the dawnings, not only of herself, but of some of the Beechcroft
young ladies in the Ch&teau de Melville. Let me send you one

^ The wedding of Alethea Coleridge to the Rev. John Mackarness, after-
wards Bishop of Oxford.

2 A story afterwards called Mrs. Elderney's School, printed in the Magazine
for the Young,

GROWING POWERS 159

if you have not seen it, and if ever you begin to teach your herd
to low in French, we can furnish a complete stock. The French
is probably good enough for beginners, and it is at all events free
from any breach of the third commandment, a fault that seemed
to belong to all French books for children when I knew anything
about them.

I think you are fortunate to have a child left for the holidays ;
the books you will read ostensibly for her benefit or amusement
will be of great use to the mistress. At least, I think I learnt
a great deal more about teaching from children's books than I
did from graver treatises and systems. Not that I am without a
great respect for Mrs. Trimmer's old Guardian of Education. —
Your dutiful Slave s'Mother — as Charlotte writes the name of
her story, Henrietta s'Wish.

Extract from Undated Letter of Charlotte's to
Miss Dyson

I send a Chateau de Melville, and if you do not stick fast in it
I should be amused to hear if you can identify the people with
the Magnanimous Mohuns in their youth, that is to say, tell
which is the origin of which. I have a most funny series of
MSS. connecting them, which my executors may hereafter
publish as a curious piece of literary history — I don't mean that
I keep them for the purpose, only they are so comical that
I cannot find it in my heart to throw them away, such absurd
pieces of advice as the old people do give ! and the pathetic
parts so ridiculous.^ You will meet with the origin of Ben and
Philip there.^ What exquisite weather ! Wish for it to last till
after St. Peter, when we are to have a grand picnicking with all
the Hursley public at Merdon Castle, fifteen or sixteen Win-
chester boys to go home in an omnibus. I think I deserve a
good long letter as a reward for this one. Don't you long to
see Prince Rupert! [His life, I suppose.]

^ Not in existence. ^ Langley School.

i6o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, Midsummer Day.
{Undated^ about 1850.)

My Dear M. A. — O that the sky of the Church was as clear
as the sky above our heads, and how, as they always do, yesterday's
Christian Year seemed to chime in with the thoughts that must
sadden one even in this most glorious weather, as we thought last
night when the full moon was shining so gloriously in the midst
of the sky, and the elm-tree making such a beautiful shadow on
the field. What can I say but that I am very sorry for you, and for
her, it is like seeing tower after tower in a fortress taken by some
enemy, and every time the blow seems nearer home. I do think
such things as these make one know the comfort of people's
being dead and safe, so that one can give them one's whole heart
without the fear of having to wrench it away again. " Death only
binds us fast." When I say one's whole heart I mean one's heart
of admiration, and that kind of half-historical love for living saints
that we were talking of one evening, for I am thankful to say that
no personal friend of my own, no one indeed whom I knew well,
has gone, none indeed whom I knew so well as Miss Lockhart.
There was a cousin indeed, but I had not seen him since he was
a youth and I a child, and we feel most about him for the sake of
his mother and of his wife, who holds firm, and as to his mother,
nothing could ever shake her I am sure. After hearing of such a
thing as this, it does seem indeed a warning to any woman not to
put herself in the way of being shaken by personal influence, and
yet what could one do if one's Mr. Keble went, meaning him as
an example of one's Pope. I remember Mr. H. W. saying he
could fancy making a Pope of Archdeacon M. ; is this what he is
doing? And then why is Rome better because England is
worse ? that is the great wonder.

[This extract shows the feeling caused by the numerous
secessions to the Church of Rome about this time.]

^ I suppose Midsummer Day fell on a Monday and she refers to the
Sunday poem.

GROWING POWERS i6i

Undated Leti-er, 1850

I was thinking of the Southey and Scott controversy, and
wondering if the self-consciousness of the men had anything to
do with the personaUty of their heroes, whether Sir Walter went
any deeper into himself than into tlie rest of mankind, and whether
Southey from looking at the inside of himself con amore did not
get inside of other humans too. I always do think it a strange
thing how one can care so much personally for that Ladurlad in
Kehama in the midst of the impossibilities and verses I don't like
at all. As to Tlmlaba I do like it almost every way ; the opening
scene dwells on one with a sort of horror that shows its power,
and the Angel of Death, how very fine that is. But I think
Southey treated the Catholic faith, just as he did the idol
mythology, as a framework, and not in the allegorical way in which
Fouque makes the mythology serve to shadow truth, and therefore
it does not satisfy me ; there is a falseness about it all, he was
not in earnest.

Yes, prejudices are very precious things, in Church matters
especially I suppose, but I think history of England takes care of
them because the R.C.'s are always the enemy, and the burnings
and Gunpowder Plot will keep an English mind well prejudiced,
so that I think you might afford to soften a little.

M

CHAPTER VI

THE ' HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' AND THE
' MONTHLY PACKET '

In the spring of 1850 Charlotte paid a visit to

Dogmersfield. At this time she had several stories

in active progress, the most prominent being the

Two Guardians, while the Castle Builders was in

a less advanced state. During this visit Miss

Dyson showed her the MS. of a story which she

herself had written, but which she did not feel to

be entirely successful. She wished, she said, to

depict two characters, " the essentially contrite and

the self-satisfied." There were plenty of heroes

who were repentant for having accidentally killed

a friend out shooting for instance, but the penitence

of the saints was unattempted. The conceited

hero was to persecute the other, and finally to

cause his death, which was to be to his own worldly

advantage. This story of Miss Dyson's existed in

MS. until quite recently, but has been unfortunately

lost or destroyed. Charlotte thought the characters

interesting. The good hero was called Geoffrey,

and the denouement was brought about by his

162

cH.vi THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 163

having to rescue the Philip of the story from a
marsh, in doing which he caught a severe chill and
finally died of consumption, and there was some
scene in a church in which I think his face during
the Psalms brought the Philip to a sense of his
errors.

Miss Dyson had generous insight enough to
know that her friend was a far better story-wright
than herself, and Charlotte's imagination was at
once fired with the idea, and she began to work
it out and improve upon it. The letters which she
wrote about it are in themselves so interesting, and
show so well the kind of way in which she discussed
her stories through life with her friends, that some
of them are here given as specimens. The story
was evolved through much discussion and considera-
tion ; almost every incident in it is recorded in
some letter, incidents often much improved before
they took final shape. Even the names underwent
change. The Philip of the story was at first called
Martin, which was changed to Philip, on the
suggestion of Mrs. Yonge that Guy and Martin
would remind readers too much of " Day and
Martin's " famous blacking.

All through the autumn of 1850 and the spring
of 1851 "Guy" was growing and prospering together
with the end of the! Two Guardians, the main
part of the Castle Builders, and the Landmarks
of History, besides the first beginning of a new
enterprise.

i64 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

The Magazine for the Young to which Charlotte
constantly sent contributions was intended in the
first instance for children of the working classes,
children whose development and welfare was the
new great enthusiasm of the day. The Church-
man's Companion, published by Masters, was
certainly the " High Church " magazine. Charlotte
was at this time sending the Two Guardians to it
month by month. Its tone was, however, extremely
controversial, and it was given to insist more on
the surface peculiarities of the Church movement
than the wiser members of that movement thought
good. The Dysons, and possibly others, suggested
the putting forth of a magazine for young people,
suited to the schoolroom rather than the village
school, and which should avoid personal controversy
as unsuited to the young. They speedily asked
Charlotte to edit it, and she took to the idea with
eagerness, planning it out, and in fact creating it,
while she thought she was humbly following the
suggestions of her elders. The name was a
difficulty. " The Maidens' Manual " was suggested
amid various others. Among themselves they
called it "The Codger," saying that it was intended to
please steady old codgers ; and we see how different
in those days were the conditions of advertisement
and publication, for the name and contents were
still doubtful in November 1850, though on the
first of January 1851 the Monthly Packet made
its first appearance. It contained Conversations on

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE' 165

the Catechism and Cameos from, English History
by the Editor, with the Little Duke for its leading
serial. The Castle Builders was added after a few
months, and indeed, though in after years the
Monthly Packet contained many excellent papers
and stories, notably those of Mrs. Alfred Gatty and
Mrs. Ewing,^ it was from first to last the expression
of Charlotte Yonge's individuality, and the means
of extending her influence. How much that
influence continued to mould it even in those few
latter years when her hand was partly withdrawn
from it, only those concerned can know, and in its
early years she fought pretty hard for its tone and
character.

There were not wanting those who thought it
daring and dangerous, and its innocent love-stories
and gentle playfulness were not permitted without
a struggle. It became indeed a Maidens' Manual,
and the strength and depth of its influence as well
as the definite limitations of it, as its readers grew
up and grew old with it, would form a curious
study. What we are concerned with just now is,
that its conception and publication coincided with
that of the Heir of Redely ffe.

No doubt the conditions of editing were in those
days very easy. A day or two's delay in the
appearance of the magazine troubled no one, and
twelve or fourteen pages could be added if matter

' Miss Peard, Miss Keary, and the author of Mademoiselle Mori were also
contributors.

i66 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

outran space. On the other hand, the pay was
nominal, and fifteen or sixteen hundred copies was
thought an enormous sale.

The Heir of Redclyffe was finished in August
1 85 1, and had to run the gauntlet of that private
public which was always to its author the most
important.

First of all " Guy's mother," as Miss Dyson was
fondly called, and Mr. and Mrs. Dyson had to
express their approval of the manner in which the
leading idea had been carried out. Then the MS.
went to Ottery St. Mary and exercised the critical
faculties of the Coleridge family. Sir John gave
it considerable approval, but implored that Amabel's
baby might be a boy, for the public would never
stand seeing Philip heir of Redclyffe. The future
Lord Chief Justice said that when Philip came to
inquire into Guy's debts, Guy should have kicked
him downstairs, an opinion upon which Julian
Yonge improved by saying that he would have
horsewhipped him round the quad. Mr. Keble,
who saw it afterwards, thought that Guy had no
sufficient reason for refusing to satisfy his guardian
as to his demand for ;^iooo.

Charlotte accepted all this advice, and no doubt
much more unrecorded, with deference and gratitude,
but she took none of it. Intuition was for once
stronger than authority. Her father apparently
polished up the style of the sentences, and Alice,
Dr. Moberly's eldest daughter, enjoyed the new

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 167

story, and was the first of many maidens utterly to
lose her heart to Guy Morville. Whether the
critics really knew that they had got hold of some-
thing remarkable, whether they were afraid of
making their young lady vain, and what they said
about it to each other, is not recorded. Sir John
Coleridge advised that the MS. should be sub-
mitted to Mr. Murray, and after Mr. Yonge had,
according to the author, corrected the language
and polished up the sentences, he took it up to
London in the February of 1852. Mr. Murray
declined it on the ground that he did not publish
fiction and, with Sir John Coleridge's concurrence,
it was passed on to Messrs. Parker. There is a
tradition derived from an external source that the
elder members of the firm wished to decline it,
probably from not knowing how to class a work
which was neither a novel nor a girl's story-book ;
but that Mr. John Parker read it, perceived that it
was something quite new, and insisted on accepting
it. However this may have been, there was no
enthusiasm shown about it and much delay in
giving an answer, so that the final agreement to
publish the book in October was not signed until
May 1852.

Charlotte does not seem to have made herself
unhappy under the suspense. Guy and his friends
were to her like real people away on a visit, and
the new book, the Heir of Redclyffe, was hardly
realised. " If Guy could only have seen Mr. Keble

i68 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

to-day, how he would have enjoyed it ! " she writes.
Besides, there was all the story of Heartsease to be
invented and worked out, and a whole second part
of the Morville story, following the characters to
their life's end.

This sketch was never, I think, really written,
and though the facts were always at the service of
eager admirers who wanted to know more of their
old friends, she always said that the public would
not stand anything so melancholy, and her literary
judgment told her that its publication would be
unwise.

The idea of expiation of, and retribution for, the
faults of youth in Philip and Laura was certainly
carried to an unreasonable extent, and it is enough
to know that Guy's daughter was all she ought to
have been, and a sort of guardian angel to the rest
of the family.

The chief family event of this period was Julian
Yonge joining the Rifle Brigade, 2nd Battalion, and
sailing for Canada in the summer of 1852. Char-
lotte, when he got his commission, compared it
to a young squire obtaining knighthood, and felt
it to be a sort of revival of the romance of an
older day.

The chief shadow over this period of prolonged
and happy youth, when all the daily tasks were, as
she herself says, little strokes in the great cause,
was the secession to Rome of various leaders of
the Church movement, and of several friends and

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 169

cousins of her own. These failures of faith in the
Church of England caused the greatest grief and
fear ; " the separation," she writes, " was worse
than death," and though it does not seem that she
entertained one definite difficulty or doubt on the
subject, there was evidently a vague terror of an
influence that might take people unawares, and
overcome their loyalty and faith. People who
" argued " might easily be lost, and when she
wished to represent a heroine as being tempted
to " Romanise," she says that she must be careful
not to realise her difficulties for fear of becoming
confused herself.

Mr. Keble, however, whose steadfastness was
an entire protection to her, does not seem to have
taken this view in the case of so clever a woman ;
she says that he talked the matter out with her,
and certainly, in after life, ariy one less likely to
" go over to Rome " never lived and died a faithful
daughter of the Church of England. It was not
only that she was entirely satisfied with the
Anglican position, but that she had no turn for
the kind of sentiment which leads some people to
idealise the Church of Rome. She did not like
foreign books of devotion, and had a profound
dislike for sentimental expressions of religious
feeling, which she thought irreverent ; not only
her belief, but her tone of mind, was thoroughly
in harmony with the Book of Common Prayer, and
fed on an accurate knowledge of Holy Scripture.

I70 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

These letters will perhaps be regarded as having
little intrinsic interest except for those who are
familiar with every detail of the book ; but no
description could give so clear an impression of
the innocence, the simplicity, the scrupulous
conscientiousness of the writer's mind, in fact of
the Codgerism which made for so much good, though
doubtless for good of a limited sort, and which was
the native atmosphere of the highly educated and
gifted girl, who was soon to become one of the
most popular authors of her day.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, May 4, 1850.

My dear Driver — I don't mean to send this till to-morrow,
but my head is so full of Sir Guy Morville that I must write
it to get him out in order to go to Emmeline,! and in the first
place I must tell you that after meditating on him all the way
home, I explained him to mamma at tea, and when she heard
him described, she said " Like Mr. Hurrell Froude," which I
hope is a sign that I have got the right sow by the ear, as far
as knowing what you mean. Now, then, how will this sort of
plot do — Mr. Dashwood, a good honest common-place sort of
squire, is connected with the Morvilles by marrying Miss
Edmonstone, a second cousin of theirs, her nephew Martyn
Edmonstone being the heir-at-law to Sir Guy. The story
should begin with the news coming to the Dashwoods of the
sudden death of old Sir Guy, whereupon all would begin talking,
and telling old stories about old Sir Guy's faults and repentance,
and Mr. Dashwood and Martyn having to go to the funeral, and
bring back young Guy with them. They don't know much about
him, Martyn the most, and / think there should be some instances

1 The Castle Builders.

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 171

of wild escapades of fun together with a tremendous temper, the
very vice of the house of Morville. I think a fiery temper would
be the thing that would chiefly leave on Guy's mind the impression
that he was and must be good for nothing, and though he may
have it really under most noted control, it may now and then
show awful flashes before he can curb it in, so as to be just what
smaller minds cannot understand. Well, Mr. Dashwood finds him
very much overwhelmed by the loss of his grandfather, and brings
him home ; then comes what we settled, how Mrs. Dashwood, who
is to be superior to her husband, gets into his confidence and he
is quite unreserved with her ; how he finds himself enjoying the
lively family too much, and curbs himself sometimes in an odd
sudden way which is now and then misunderstood and gives
offence ; how Martyn Edmonstone, from having seen him in his
boyhood, never trusts him, and looks upon him as a young tiger's
whelp sure to break out some time or other, and cannot bear the
sort of admiration in which the young ladies hold him. Martyn
should before, I think, have been their great hero, and find his
nose a little put out of joint, especially with Laura, his favourite,
and the beauty whom Guy first took to ; he should not in the least
know that he is jealous and invidious, but think it is all brotherly
interest in his cousins. Then, just as Guy has found out his real
love, Amabel, it should somehow happen that Martyn sees him
at Oxford or somewhere under some violent provocation, where
he really does struggle and gain a glorious victory over himself,
but Martyn only sees the first flash of anger, and misrepresents it
first to himself and then to the Dashwoods, in a sort of all-sincerity.
Then comes a great cloud between Guy and Amabel and all her
family, and when he finds out it is Martyn's fault, it must be a
marvellous effort by which he prevents himself from calling him
to account for it, at the same time blaming himself too much in
his own penitent spirit to exculpate himself to the Dashwoods as
much as most people would have done.

At last must come a sort of clearance, not so far that Martyn
at all retracts, but only that it blows over, and he gets on his
former terms with the family ; Amabel and her mother thoroughly
understand him, Mr. Dashwood forgets his doubts, and the
marriage comes all right, and they are only so wondrously happy

172 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

that he fears it, and she is sure it cannot last. They go abroad
for their wedding tour, and at some small place where Sisters of
Mercy don't grow, they hear of an English gentleman desperately
ill of an infectious fever. It must be just a sort of case in which
Guy would think it only common humanity to go and nurse him,
whereas other people would think it immense generosity, more
especially as it turns out to be Martyn Edmonstone, whom he
has never seen since the days of the slandering. So he nurses
him till he begins to recover, and then catches it himself, and is
quite convinced from the first that he shall die, and rejoices in it,
in the same spirit as Prince Henry was so glad not to be king.
Then of course it is all cleared up, and Martyn (who shall be his
heir after all) shall come and see him, and enter into all that he
would have had him do, and not only do him full justice but very
nearly worship him, and Amabel shall behave gloriously, and
understand her husband enough to feel with him like a certain
book of Fouque's, Death is Life, and when her father and mother
and Laura come to her, just as it is all over, they can only wonder
at her, and I think if in some remoter distance Martyn and Laura
should marry, it would be a very good instance of what it is to
be too good for this world, and what to be just good enough for
it. I should like to know what you think of all this.

To Miss Dyson

Saturday.

My dear Driver — The first thing I did when I opened your
letter this morning was to laugh, it was so exactly what I had
been thinking about before I was up, as far as regards Guy's
character, for what I had been planning was to make the
encounter with Martyn happen at Oxford, whither Martyn has
volunteered to go to hunt up the supposed debts of Guy's. I
mean Guy to have hazel eyes which when he is angry grow dark
in the middle and flash (a traditional feature in the wicked
ancestor), and when Martyn comes to his rooms with all these
unjust suspicions and kind exhortations to confess and moralis-
ings, it is almost beyond bearing, and he speaks in his tremendous
tone of suppressed passion, and flashes with these eyes, and they

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE' 173

part quite in a quarrel, Guy proudly refusing all explanation.
Then he repents, comes to Martyn's inn next morning, tries to
make it up, but, as you say, Martyn fancies it is for fear of his
making further discoveries, and is very ungracious, perhaps
rather disappointed at the excellent character all the dons give
of his cousin. Guy is comforted by his humility though it is
not accepted — I think his contrition should have the " princely
heart of innocence " following it. But whether this would be
more effective if Martyn interfered with the estate I don't know,
perhaps it might considering what is to happen afterwards, and
Martyn's remorse ; but then, on the other hand, would it not hurt
Guy more to think his cousin had been giving that grudging sort
of character of him to the people at Oxford, and so be more of a
trial ? I had been devising his lonely vacation already, when he
goes to Morville alone missing his grandfather a good deal, and
fancying all sorts of things about the ghost and his destiny
whenever he passes the ghost's portrait, and writing verses and
thoughts, making in short a grand communing with his own
mind which is a steadying of him. He contemplates the living
there alone, without Amabel, without much of the pleasures he
has taken to, and sets his face to think it the safest way, and to
give up happiness if he may but escape sin, and then his chief
wish is that the Edmonstones should understand him, and
Martyn, whom all this time he more than half admires, should
be cordially his friend. Then he takes heart and soul to his
people, finds cottages wanting repair, etc., and writes to Mr.
Edmonstone about it. Luckily Mr. Edmonstone has just,
though Guy did not know it, taken model cottages for a hobby,
so he goes into an ecstasy, sends Guy a dozen plans once a
week, and asks him to come to them the next vacation. And
then it is all right. Oh further, Mr. Edmonstone has the unlucky
custom of showing his letters to whoever is by, and so, as he had
shown Guy's letters to Martyn, he shows Guy a letter written by
Martyn on hearing of his engagement to Amabel, one of Martyn's
grand letters of good advice to his uncle, against being hasty
about it, calling on him to observe that the question about the
money has never been explained, and saying that he considers it
as a great risk to give her to a man with Guy's temper, etc. etc.

174 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

At this, what Guy does is to give one of his eye flashes, which
he cannot help, and say with a sort of smile, "You should not
show one such letters, Mr. Edmonstone." Then in that meeting
which he sought in Switzerland, his eyes do not even flash,
showing that the temper is conquered as well as the outward
demonstration. I think Mr. Edmonstone must be so inconsistent
a man that the cottages really reconcile him to Guy, and he takes
it all for granted and returns of himself to his former opinion of
him when Martyn is not there to poison his ear, and Charles is
saying all in favour of Guy ; it would be quite as probable and
more entertaining. I like your idea particularly of Martyn's
softening being the one thing wanting to Guy's happiness, which
is found at last, and I think it should be poetical justice on
Martyn that his illness should leave his head so weak and
incapable of thought, that he feels himself quite unable to be of
the least use to Amabel in her husband's illness, not even able
to write a note or give an order for her, instead of making
arrangements better than any one else. Yes, Laura's faith in him
never fails, nor has it any reason to do so, she only admired Guy
as a novelty just at first, but never thought him really equal to
Martyn, whose judicious arrangements seem to her unparalleled,
and Charles is always laughing at her for this.

I have found out what the offence was that made Guy bang
the door. Martyn had been advising him to read with a tutor,
the curate I suppose, to prepare for Oxford, which would have
been all very well if Martyn had not proceeded to disparage
Guy's former education, which nettled him. He tells Mrs.
Edmonstone that " Martyn had been giving him some good
advice which he had been unreasonable enough not to take in
good part," and Charles tells him " he knows what Martyn's good
advice is." But Martyn is surprised, and something between
pleased and disappointed, when Guy acts upon this same advice
forthwith, and speaks to Mr. Edmonstone about the curate.
Also I think the suspecting him of gaming is a particularly
cruel suspicion, because it is notorious among the Edmonstones
that old Sir Guy had made him take a vow against it, and he
will never even play at billiards even in their house, though not
by any means thinking them wrong for other people. I fancy

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 175

Guy a man who would cry over a story, and have all sorts of
expressions he was not conscious of flitting over his face. I
shall not send this till Monday, not because I think you will be
like Mr. Edmonstone and show it to John Coleridge, but
because I think you must want to rest from Guy on Whit Sunday
at least, and so do I.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, May 24, 1850.

1 have taken a sheet of paper and turned my dramatis
personm loose upon it to see how they will behave ; at present the
part of Hamlet is left out, that is to say, they have only got a
letter from Guy announcing his grandfather's death. I iind that
Philip is greatly inclined to be sententious and that Charles likes
to tease him by laughing at him, and mimicking his way of
saying " It is the correct thing," Charles doing so like an idle boy,
taking Philip all as goodness, but not liking that sort, and
Amabel not able to help laughing at his ways of teasing Philip,
though thinking it wrong all the time, which will suit her present
merriment, and capacity of being moulded by Guy. To be bright
and buoyant with depth within should be her nature ; a gay
temper would be best for Guy in his lady. I like the cheating
steward very much. I don't think Charles was in earnest
enough before Guy came to take Philip as his Bild ;^ it was Guy
who made him in earnest, and by respecting Philip himself almost
taught him to do so. I meant it to be a device of Amabel's
to put Philip in good-humour to write to him to take their rooms,
at which she laughs and makes her husband do so too. On
reading my first chapter I doubt whether PhiMp will not strike
those who do not know him as intended for the perfect hero ; ^ I
rather hope he will, and as one of those perfect heroes whom
nobody likes. I have been reading Mr. Hurrell Froude over
again ; I am sure he is wrong when in that essay on fiction he

' This expression is constantly used by the friends for an object of hero-
worship, an ideal to be imitated.

2 The public, I am sure, was never so stupid.

176 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

says the author has no pleasure in it, and feels the events and
people are under his own control. I am sure I don't, and
what Guy and Philip may choose to turn out I cannot tell, and
they seem just like real acquaintances. I think Guy wrote to
Charles about the cottages, Charles never having given up his
correspondence.

An idea has struck me about the flare-up with Amabel. You
hold that there is such a thing as innocent and proper flirtation ;
now I think, without understanding their own feelings, Guy and
Amabel had very simply got into a very exclusive way with each
other, which Mrs. E., afraid of the accusation of manoeuvring
the young baronet, thinks best to check, and so just before some
great out-of-doors party — a school-children's feast perhaps — she
gives Amy a hint that it is more than is quite proper, which so
frightens the poor girl that she shuns Guy as much as possible,
will not walk with him, and by sticking fast to Laura somehow
gets bestowed by Philip on his friend whom he has brought there,
and thereupon Guy flashes at her. She goes on for two or three
days thinking it a duty not to walk in the garden with him or
stay alone in a room with him, till the last day he is at home he
catches her, tells her she is unlike herself, and demands an
explanation ; it ends in rather a confused way, but Amy has no
doubt of his love for her, though don't you think he might
almost tell her so ? He wants to feel himself a more settled self-
depending character before engaging her or asking her of her
father, and this confession had broken from him unawares. She
says she shall tell her mother after he is gone the next morning,
and so she does, and Mrs. Edmonstone thinks it best to leave it
alone, as Guy is still not twenty, and not do anything either to
lead to or break it off". Do you think she would be justified in
this ? Then come all the troubles which certainly prevent true
love from running too smooth !

Extract from Letter to Miss Dyson, 1850

Sir Guy Morville has just arrived at Hollywell, and Charles
does not know whether to like him or not. I have got hard into
the beginning now, but I believe some work at the Landmarks

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE' 177

will be very wholesome for him. You know his first confession
of love was made at a time when all was going smoothly, and I
should think the consciousness of the doom was not at all strong
upon him then, though it revived in the days of his troubles and
solitude. I am really getting fond of Philip, and mamma says
people will think he is the good one to be rewarded, and Guy the
bad one punished. I say if stupid people really think so, it will
be just what I should like, for it would be very like the different
morals caught by different people from real life. Have you had
the third volume of Southey yet ? there is a most curious thing in
it at the end about Thalaba, by which it appears that some one
actually published a sketch tracing out the whole allegory of faith
all through it. Southey is pleased, but in a strange manner
shows that he did not mean it, or even understand it when it
was shown him ! I am sure this seems as if poets themselves
were not the composers of their works, and how strikingly it
joins in with the grand right parts of the old Greeks. And then
in one of his letters about Roderick, he says he means to make
Florinda kill Sisabert !

Good-bye to the calves for the present, and tell them they
have my good wishes for happy holidays. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Otterbourne, August 22, 1850. '

Do you really mean that you are thinking of a rival magazine ?
I have a great notion it would be a very good thing, and you
would make Mary Coleridge write, and keep her from being
sentimental. Also mamma goes into it so vehemently that she
desires it to be observed that it might be printed very well and
cheaply by the man at Winchester who did Shiverydown^ a
communication which I consider as premature. Did you ever
see such a dreadful little note as she has perpetrated to go in
this letter ? Pray tell the fellow-slave ^ that I am going to Ply-
mouth, and ask if she would like to have a chapter on flowers
from thence. I send Edith a promised ear of mummy wheat,

1 The pet name for Kemieth, or the Rearguard of the Grand Army.
2 Miss Mozley, editor of Magazine for the Young.

N

178 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

enough to sow the whole garden I should think. I am glad the
curate has got his holiday, I hope it will cheer him up. Our
new school-master comes just as we go, which is I think a pity.
Amabel is at this moment in the midst of comforting Guy about
his doom ; he has just begun to establish an influence over
Charles and to develop a soul in her, both very unconsciously.
I don't think I have thanked you for the reflections on Emmeline ;
thanks to both drivers, she wants an infinity of smoothings down.
We are reading the Seven Lamps of Architecture, some part very
pretty, other by writing fine very nonsensical, other very power-
ful, and the beginnings of chapters only fit to be in German. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, October 20.

My dear Marianne — Your letter has so made me overflow
that in spite of Sunday evening I cannot help beginning to write
after finishing my task of the 7 th Command. You see one part
is founded on a saying come down to me, I don't know how,
" that nice men are men of nasty ideas.'' I don't know how far all
this ought to be administered, or whether innocence should be let
alone, innocence of thought I mean. I like a bit very much in
the C. R. review of the Prelude about harm not being done by
the things children read in books. If I had thought of it I
would have sent the Listeners in the parcel for Mrs. Dyson's
Sunday evening selections ; at present I believe I return to my
old recommendation of the dear old Pilgrim's Progress, where I
am sure they could learn nothing but good. I have nothing
better at this moment to suggest than Marco Visconte, unless
you were to give them some good book of travels, such as
Franklin's Voyages, which I used to read for ever. Or perhaps
Palgrave's Merchant and Friar would do ; there is a great deal I
do like exceedingly in it, and only one thing I don't, and that is
not important, namely some unpleasant philosophising over a
dissected eye, which I think has a bad tendency, but I do not

perceive that wiser people think so. As to Mr. B , there

were reports of the worse danger, and he did not act wisely

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE ' 179

certainly in having Mr. Maskell staying with him just as all knew
he was going to secede, but he seemed quite steady as far as
could be guessed by his ways when we saw him, and his whole
soul seemed in the Church restoration, not like a man who
meant to abandon it ; he took such pleasure in showing all that
was doing and telling of the further schemes, and with the belief
of early death about him which he has expressed I cannot think
that he would remain in our Church if he doubted her really.
He has been very unwell, and does not take care of himself, so
my uncle has ordered him abroad, and the Warden has just been
to see about him ; we heard to-day that it is to the Nile that he
is to go, and choosing that instead of Italy seems like a very good
sign. He is certainly more like a man in a book than like the
rest of the world. What you say about Archdeacon M. seems
almost too terrible to be possible, but I must tell you a curious
thing. Five or six years ago Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt took us to a
great Agricultural meeting at Goodwood, and papa sat next the
Archdeacon and had a good deal of talk ; but what struck papa
was this, that Archdeacon M. first said to him that he hoped not
to be called on to speak, and then put himself forward and
showed that he wanted to do so. Papa said of it at the time
that it showed a want of simplicity, it was so unlike what Mr.
Keble would have done ; and he never had full confidence in him
after that. How strange it is that the goodness and holiness of
life that one would have thought would secure people only seems
to lay them open to assaults of the faith, like Eustace in the
Combatants, which you really ought to read. I suppose Miss
Martineau is the Socinian specimen of pretty writing that you
mean ; I read a beauty that I am sure was hers the other day,
about a heroic lady in a parish with a deadly fever; there was such
a pretty piece about the clergyman and his wife going about fear-
lessly for themselves, only now and then a terror striking them for
each other. 1 And there is Mary Barton.

I think what you say about hero-worship exemplifies the
difference between looking at a man as a saint or hero and as a

1 She means Deerbrook, by Harriet Martineau, an excellent novel in its
day. The Combatants is an allegory by Monro.

i8o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Pope, in which latter case I think it is really making him in-
fallible, and putting trust into something visible, giving our eyes
up to him, so that if the hght in him becomes darkness, he leads
us into the ditch. Alas, how well I recollect Mr. H. Wilberforce
on your lawn saying he could fancy making a Pope of Archdeacon
M. I dare say you have read those letters of Dr. Pusey's which
the Coleridges have about the danger of the craving to be guided.
It must be the difference between looking up to a, tree and cling-
ing to it ; in the case of saint-worship, the tree's fall seems to carry
away half of you and leave you scarcely knowing where you are,
in the other case you go. with it.

I like the notion of the Mag. exceedingly, and when the Land-
marks are done would devote the best part of my energies to it,
and put in the Cameos, and work up the Catechism papers into
Conversations, but I have my fears, for I believe a new Mag. is
an immense risk, and I think it is very doubtful whether the
Mozleys would choose to start one in opposition to Masters.
Besides, who will guard us from the universal fate of good Mags,
of growing stupid as soon as they get into circulation ? However,
it is my will, but not my poverty, and it would be a very pleasant
thing if it can but be done. I don't think though that I shall
venture on a letter to the fellow-slave ^ just yet, till I know a little
better how far she is in earnest ; tell her to write to me, or better
still if she would but come and stay. Do send her when she
comes to you. Is her history of France going on ? I wish any
one could tell us what the cost of starting a Mag. would be. I
advise you to set up a blackboard in your infant school ; my eyes
were opened to its uses by Duke. I don't think I would make
our Mag. much of a poor people's concern, more for young ladies
and calves ; perhaps started in that way it would not seem so like
an opposition. I have got a book about the Reign of Terror
which mamma hates the sight of, but which has some beautiful
stories in it. Do you know Ta/es of the Peerage and Peasantry 2
One of the stories in it about Lady Nithsdale would be excellent
for Calfdom. I am going to give Laura and Amy a sensible

1 Miss Mozley, sister of the publisher, and a writer of essays, many of
which appeared in the Saturday Review.

THE 'HEIR OF REDCLYFFE' i8i

friend, a Mary Ross, about 2 5, daughter to the clergyman in the
next parish, very clever, reading and school-keeping, without a
mother, taking long walks rather independently and caring little
for dress, quite feminine, however, and very nice. Charles delights
in her, but Philip cannot abide her, because of her superiority in
reality ; he fancies that it is for want of feminine grace. Amy is
intensely fond of her, and she watches the two girls as they come
to be on an equality with her with a motherly sort of interest.
It is at her house that Guy made the outburst that led to the
explanation with Amy. Penny Club awaits me. Good-bye. —
Your devoted slave, C. M. Y.

i84 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

The person who most interested the author at
first was the eldest sister of the May family,
Margaret. Ethel grew up by the way, but it is
difficult to say to show many girls she iwas an
inspiring example of conscientious usefulness. To
speak plainly, she made girls want to do parish
work, and to do it from its highest motives, and
with her awkwardness, her enthusiasm, and her
real goodness was a most lovable person. Dr.
May is also an entirely delightful creation, and
there is a breadth and simplicity about the sorrows
with which the book begins which must have
appealed to a wider circle even than the Heir of
Redclyffe. The romance of missionary enthusiasm,
which was one of the great aspirations of Charlotte's
life, also found expression in this story.

It is well known that the proceeds of it were
given to the Melanesian Mission. The Daisy
Chain began in 1853 in the Monthly Packet
and ran through two years ; but as there were
two more years of it to come, it was thought better
to stop at the end of the first part. The whole
story came out in book form in the spring of
1856.

Her other great enthusiasm of church-building
also found expression in the earnest purpose of
Ethel May, so that the Daisy Chain expresses
and enforces the three great enthusiasms of the
author's life — for parish work especially in the form
of education both religious and secular, for missionary

SUCCESS 185

enterprise, and for the building of churches to meet
the wants of the population.

To these three causes she devoted the best
energies of her life. Pro ecclesia et Deo was her
favourite motto. But here perhaps a word of
explanation is needful. It is difficult for an un-
reserved and out-spoken generation to understand
the intense reverence, the shyness of direct
expression, which marked the school to which
she belonged. The use of Holy Names came
most unreadily to her tongue ; but for her, how-
ever it may sometimes have been with others,
by devotion to " the Church " she meant devotion
to the Church's Divine Master, though she would
have felt herself wanting in due reticence if she
had said so. Perhaps she never fully understood
that there could be any doubt on the matter for
any one.

At this time Heartsease was also in full career,
and ideas that afterwards developed into Dynevor
Terrace and Hopes and Fears were already in
her mind.

The Monthly Packet continued to develop,
and the Cameos and Conversations on the Catechism
were constantly being supplied for it. The late
Lord Coleridge contributed some papers on the
Holy Grail, and the foundations were laid in it
of many interesting studies.

The talks on the Catechism deserve a word
or two since they formed the ideas of many young

i86 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

ladies, since grown into hearty workers in the
cause of religious education.

Three girls of different stations in life talk
with their godmother about the Church Catechism,
and its precepts are conveyed in a practical way
to each of them. The method is of course lengthy ;
the doctrines are not given cut and dried in little
sentences to be learned by heart as is now the
custom, but the true spirit of that reverent Church-
manship was imbibed unconsciously and lastingly,
though of course much of the actual practical
advice would now be inapplicable. And such was
always her power of keen characterisation, that
the three girls who are instructed in sound
Churchmanship are almost as individual as Ethel
and Margaret May.

It is said that a long childhood is the privilege
of genius, and in the sense of absence of respon-
sibility and joyous trust in her appointed guides,
Charlotte, in spite of her hard work and her
achievements, may be said to have enjoyed the
happiness of a child for a longer time than is
often permitted. But in the February of 1854
Julian Yonge's regiment was ordered to the
Crimea. His father, recalling his own days of active
service, threw himself with great ardour into the
needful preparations, and found his experience of
great value in those days of ignorance of military
matters. But after a week of hurry and bustle,
and after the parting with his only son, he was

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SUCCESS 187

taken suddenly ill with an attack of the nature of
apoplexy, and died after a very few days' illness.
His son was able to come home for a few hours,
but was not allowed to see his father except
when asleep, and he sailed before the final blow
fell.

The accompanying letters tell the story of those
sad days of grief and anxiety for themselves.
Charlotte was not a person to whom sorrow brought
loss of interest in work and occupation ; she had
through life the blessing of finding in her imagina-
tion a refuge from grief, and this great sorrow was
borne with the help of ardent faith and of that high
romance which she often said was the secondary
help in trouble. Her intense admiration for her
father carried her through the misery of his loss,
though it was indeed irreparable. She and her
mother settled down together to endure the anxiety
of the absence of the son and brother at the seat
of war.

In the course of the summer, however, a sun-
stroke brought on an illness which obliged the
young officer to return to England, and finally to
leave the army. The joy of his return was of
course much tempered by anxiety about his health,
and disappointment at the check to his career, but
his company was manifestly a great joy to his sister,
and she frequently quotes his opinion as to her
writings and undertakings.

1 88 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Dyson

Otiekbovki^b, /anuary 15, 1853.

My dear Marianne — If the maids had not an evil habit of
keeping the arrival of a parcel a secret for some hours, I should
not have let the dear Guy go without note or comment, but we
never heard of him till just as we were starting for Winchester,
when I wrote his mother's name in the first that came out, and
carried him off. I hope she has had him by this time, and that
she is satisfied with the son she gave me to educate, who has
been one of my greatest pleasures for two and a half years. On
that same day I took the first step to sending you my daughter
for the same purpose. I spoke to Mrs. Collins, who was much
pleased, but her heart is so full of George that I was edified by
the comparative value of a son and daughter. She was very
nice about it, when I said Miss Dyson chiefly cared for their
being well brought up at home, and that I was sure of that with
Bessie. "Yes, to be sure, we do try to teach them our best, as
far as we know, and I don't think they have ever heard anything
bad, and that was what Mr. Fielder said about George, he
wouldn't mind having him with his own children." I thought
you would be glad of that voluntary testimony, coming out of
the fulness'of the heart, and quite forgetting it was to recommend
Bessie. She will be going on the 24th of July, and her mother
says, "she will be happy, for she does not mind being away
from home." However, as her visits have been made with her
grandmother, I would not answer for the felicity at first, but I
like to think it is in train. I send " St. Margaret '' on approval ;
you see she is quite to the level of the Pink. I will make an
exhortation to Miss Mozley to put it in as soon as she can ; I
told her it was coming when she sent me some pay the other
day. I suppose you are parting with Miss Lefroy — wasn't she to
go on Saturday? Is the Old Man come home? I hope he
was not too much tired. Slave's mother says she enjoyed
insulting you with the Morning Herald, which she had done up
before Guy came in propriA persond. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Y.

VII

SUCCESS 189

From Mrs. Yonge to Miss Dyson

My dear Miss Dyson — It seems almost as if Guy and Amy
had been here themselves this morning, so much have we talked
of them with Mr.^ and Mrs. Wilson. You should have heard him
draw out all the different moralities. I wish he would write a
review of it ; and as for her, she says she does not get over the
feelings with which she finished the book, as if she had lost a
dear friend.

Mr. Keble still takes Harriet's view of Philip, that he thought
he was right all the time, and Mr. Keble thinks his repentance
almost beyond bounds. I have not time to think what I am
saying, but Charlotte must make up for my deficiencies. They
are reading it aloud at the Vicarage, and he is accused of sitting
up to read to the end of the book every night after they have
left off. Mrs. Wilson seems to know all the little speeches by
heart, as we ourselves do.

Mr. Wilson has composed a new end to torment the Vicar,
and remarried Amy to a very good clergyman in a very long
black coat. Such a pleasant morning as we have had with them,
and while Mr. Yonge was pouring the defences into one of Mr.
Wilson's ears, the other took in little bits of Guy, and he thought
if the story had been taking place now, the Shag Rock would
have been fortified.

Mr. Keble thinks it was Philip's character to over-do repentance,
not that his author had overdone him. Mr. Keble says everybody
is like Philip, and what do you think your amiable Slave wishes —
no other than to see Mr. Keble and Mrs. Dyson fight over Philip.

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, 1853.

My dear Marianne — That Bild-worship question is, as you
know, a puzzle to me ; I am not quite sure that Dorothea ^ is an
exemplification of it, because her Bilds were not so much Bilds

1 The Rev. R. T. Wilson, one of llr. Keble's curates, then Vicar of
Ampfield, and afterwards of Rownhams.

2 The character afterwards called Honora in Hopes and Fears.

I90 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

as human attachments. Mr. Llewellyn was her lover, and it was
marrying love she had for him ; on Owen she fastened herself
with something of maternal spoiling ; her real reliance was on
Bertram Charlecote, and he died instead of disappointing her.
I believe she put her trust for happiness rather than for guidance,
and I suspect it was idols rather than popes that she made, the
true genuine safe confidence in Bertram being a different and
soberer thing than her feeling for either of the Llewellyns. Of
course, example and all we are told about it shows that, to a
certain extent, Bilds are right, but somehow, whether it may be
coldness or self-sufficiency I don't know ; I don't think I go as
far in it as you do in theory. I know women have a tendency
that way, and it frightens me, because the most sensible and
strong-minded are liable to be led astray ; but I do not think it is
such an order of nature as to make it a thing to be preached
against and struggled against. I always remember one of Dr.
Pusey's letters that speaks of the desire for guidance, a good
thing in itself, turning to be a temptation. I am very much
afraid of live Bilds ; you say, what makes you safe, have a standard
external to your Bild, and do not make the Bild the standard, but
I think considering the way of womenkind, that should be the
prominent maxim, not only the qualifying one. You being strong
and sensible yourself, the Bild worship has done you no harm,
but for women with less soundness, to carry it as far as you do
would be dangerous ; I beheve that is the mind of your impertinent
Slave. The holy saving example in living people is what I fully
recognise as you spoke of it, and I think you will see it in what
Dorothea is to Lucy, or what Guy was to Charles, but there I
think it ought to stop, and pope-making be treated in different
degrees as silly, melancholy, or wrong, an infirmity.

I fancy all this is very arrogant, especially as I really do not
know how far a woman's strength of sense and discrimination goes,
and have no certainty of not going off headlong into something
very foolish, fancying it right. I don't think I could while I
have papa to steady me, but I don't hold that as worship, first
because he is my father, and second because I don't think he is
my pope. Whether I have said what I mean I don't know. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

VII SUCCESS 191

To Miss Dyson

Otterbourne, February 23, 1853.

My dear Marianne — Please to return this testimonial to Guy
by return of post, as papa has not seen it (being as usual gone
to London), and I believe he will enjoy it more than any other.
He and Julian started for London yesterday morning, and mamma
and I made an agreement with the Miss Yards to walk to Hursley,
and take the fly back, then attempts at snow and rain began,
and messages passed whether it was safe ; but at last it cleared a
little, and we thought now or never, another day the roads would
be impassable, and off we set, and got there to church. We
went after church to the Park for the second time lately, crossing
Lady H. However, she had had time to come home, and we
had a nice little visit there, and Sir William said things of your
son that set my cheeks tingling ; and meanwhile the Yards were
at the Peters, and Peter declared he sympathised with Philip in
his jealousy, for his own wife had fallen in love all along of Miss
Yonge. Well, we met at the Vicarage again, and stayed to tea,
and most uncommonly delightful it was. Mr. Keble hardly did
anything but talk all the evening. His view of Philip is that
there are many such who, having done one grand thing, think
themselves safe, and do not guard themselves ; also his being so
young accounts, he thinks, for his being such a prig. It is
curious how it has grown on them, and on the Heathcotes too.
Mrs. Keble's favourite part is the Mondenfehen ^ time, and Ascen-
sion Day, but twice the other night she talked in her sleep warning
them against the fever. It seems as if people were first angry,
then sad, and then the peacefulness of the end grew on them ;
altogether the effect has been much more than I ever expected,
and if Guy was not your son I should be frightened to think of
it. Fancy their thinking Charles like Mr. H. Froude. I suppose
the veiling feeling in fun may be, but it surprised me. It is
curious that the Vicar and Harriet should take the same view
that Philip blamed himself over-much. But I did not mean to

1 The time when Guy was banished to Redclyffe, in imitation of the
banishment of Sintram to the Rocks of the Moon.

192 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

write only of this, I wanted to tell you that Miss Adelaide did
what I should not have dared, brought on a talk about Dr. New-
man. It was she, the Vicar, and I ; he talked of him as if the
connection was a thing so past that he could speak of him with-
out pain ; he said he had lately seen a letter from him, " a very
kind letter," and then he talked of his looking so ill, and being
gone to Abbotsford. Afterwards the paper came in, and he read
about that comment on the Judge's speech ; he ended with " So
that's the way Newman takes what Coleridge says to him ; I could
not have thought it of him." Then we went to something else.
Mrs. Keble seems well and brisk. Fly was engaged, so an ex-
press went for our vehicle, and I had a happy drive home in
white moonlight, wrapt up in Mrs. Keble's fur cloak, and there
we found at home this grand puff, which I hold to be the finest
yet. A note from papa tells us Parker has sold 500 out of 750,
and talks of an edition of 1000. I wish you could have heard
Mr. Wilson's morals : one was that the steady battling with one
fault perfected the character.

Priziaie

I should like you to know the comfort and peace I had in the
little study at H. V. yesterday. It is too precious to have him
to bring all one's fears of vainglory, etc., to, and hear him say,
"Yes, my dear, I have been thinking a great deal about you
now," and when he said a successful book might be the trial of
one's life — it was so exactly what was nice, not telling one not to
enjoy the praise, and like to hear it talked about, but that way of
at once soothing and guarding, and his telling me to think of the
pleasure it was to my father and mother ; and then, besides the
safeguard of prayer and offering of talents, etc., he said in this
case I might dwell on how much it is yours, so you see you must
not mind my sending it all to you. I wish I could give you the
effect of the peacefulness and subduing happiness of it, especially
when I asked for the blessing, and he said, " you shall have it,
such as it is," and then he took the words he never used with
me before, "prosper Thou her handiwork," which seemed to seal
a daily prayer, and make all bearable and not vain. The going

vii SUCCESS 193

back and chattering in the drawing-room did not hurt that twi-
light time; and then came a moonlight drive home, when we
found this note, and I just glanced at what he said, and then
came home prayers — and the first was the collect " knowest our
necessities before we ask " — " and wont to give more, etc." — it
did so seem to fit — that opportunity of pouring out to Mr. K.,
and being set at rest as to how to look at it coming just when it
did — and the peace went on into this morning's church-time. I
thought of what you wanted me to ask him, but it was tea-time,
and I could not.

I could not help telling you, but keep it to yourself. " If you
keep watch and go on in your own natural way, it need do you
no harm," he said.

To Miss Dyson
(On her Father's last Illness)

Otterbourne, February 2^, 1854.

My dear Marianne — I thought often of your saying papa
would be the worst of us, for we have had a terrible night. After
the long day at Portsmouth he came home, and about 10 o'clock
at night a sort of attack came on that frightened us very much,
and we sent for Mr. Lyford who cupped him, which relieved him
much, and he has been getting better since, though still with
very bad oppression and headache. Mr. Lyford seems to make
sure of his being better to-morrow, and I hope Julian will go off
with a cheerful account. He has been able to come home for a
few hours to-day, but only to see papa asleep, for the agitation of
a talk and renewing of the good-byes is not to be. It seems as
if it would have been apoplectic if not taken in time, and just at
first when he could not speak or use his limbs it was very frightful,
but that soon went off", and to-day he is fully himself, only heavy
and sleepy, thinking that he has an unusually bad headache ; but
since the afternoon he has been reviving, talking more, and
telling mamma and me to go out, so she has had one walk round
and I two with Julian, and after all, I hope the last impression will
be a hopeful one to carry to Malta, where he can first hear again.

O

194 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Mamma will be able most likely to go to bed to-night; she is
now lying on the bed by him. It is the very dread that always
haunted me, and has been so like old visions that it seems like a
dream, but it is going off, we think we may trust, and the thing
will be for him not to overdo himself again. Julian says Uncle
James rather apprehended something of the kind when they were
at Plymouth. This seems to have eaten up poor Julian's going
away, except for the sorrow for him going at such a time. How
good and helpful the men were when we were forced to have
them to carry him ! It does seem so like a dream, but it has
been much thankfulness, after those first words. He remembers
nothing of the worst time.

Tell Bessie her brother Charles has had his mumps to match
hers. — Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

Otterbourne, February 25, 1S54.

My dear Marianne — Your letter was the pleasure of sympathy
that I knew it would be. We have been going on what seems a
long time, with a great deal of severe pain in the head, which
gets better late in the afternoon, then he sits up, overtires him-
self, and makes it worse again. Yesterday mamma had one of her
worst varieties of headache, as might have been expected, but it
mended in the middle of the day, especially as Mrs. Keble came
and sat three hours with us, which refreshed her much, and she
was able to attend the cupping in the afternoon. We are feeding
ourselves with a dim hope of Uncle James coming, though I
don't know whether it is a reasonable one. However, he is
really better, but it is more of an illness than I believe I expected
the day before yesterday. To-day he is more restless and
anxious than yesterday when the oppression was greater, and this
is certainly a good sign, though more visibly distressing. I do not
think he had come to the full perception of the extent of the
attack till this morning, and Mr. Lyford says people always do
get anxious about themselves in this sort of case as they mend,
and his being so much of a doctor adds to it, as it makes him
watch his pulse and devise remedies. However, it is better than
yesterday, when we could not prevent him from writing to Uncle

VII SUCCESS 195

James, about the worst thing he could attempt, and which, I
do believe, brought back the pain in the head to that terrible
degree. I wrote this in the morning, and now at five he is
rather better, though still exceedingly uncomfortable, but the
perspiration much desired has come at last and relieved the pain.
I believe it is all right. This slow nursing is more like reality to
me than the night itself was. I am glad Bessie has come pro-
vided ; Olive gets pence for carrying out letters, so it is an
amiable attention I should not wish to disturb. I am glad you
are rid of Emily. Pray tell us all the news. We are in a state
when letter news does better than anything else, but I cannot
answer news or kindness in full now as the post summons is come.
Mrs. Keble has been here with Lady Heathcote. The Isaac
Williamses, with three boys, are at Hursley ; it is so kind of her
to come as she has done, and we have had such a kind note from
the Warden. I am glad Old Slave should think of me. Perhaps
I may write on Sunday, for, of course, school will not be practic-
able. — Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

To Miss Dyson

February 26, 1854.

My trouble has come ; he had a second attack and died at six
to-night.

Mamma is too like Amy, excited with thankfulness. I dread
what it will be ; I don't think we half believe it yet.

You will write to me ; perhaps I may write to-morrow, but I
can't tell. We have Mr. and Mrs. Keble helping us to-night.
Oh what will the waking be ! So many of our Psalm superstitions
have come true. — Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

CHAPTER VIII

I 854-1 862

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER

As Charlotte and her mother gradually recovered

from the immediate effect of their great sorrow,

there was a great deal of quiet and happy intercourse

with Hursley Vicarage, with the Moberlys at

Winchester, the Heath cotes at Hursley Park, and

other dear friends.

Mrs. Yonge seems to have been at this time in

fair health, and the letters tell of walks to Hursley

and other little expeditions together. Charlotte's

work was of almost equal interest to her mother, and

after the great comfort and relief of Anne's long

visit they settled down peaceably, though there

was of course much anxiety about Julian away at

the seat of war. After his return he went to

Norway for his health, and in due time, when that

was re-established, Charlotte went out to dinner or

paid morning visits with him, and seems to have

enjoyed conversation and society very much. The

gradual development of Otterbourne schools and

the education of successive generations of children

196

cH.vm MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 197

were still among her very chiefest interests, and her
powers of invention were at their fullest flow.
Heartsease, which is perhaps superior as a novel to
the Heir of Redely ffe, delighted its author nearly as
much, and had full success, while plots and plans
were constantly developing themselves in her mind.
The Daisy Chain was succeeded in the Monthly
Packet by the Young Stepmother, a much less
popular story.^ Charlotte once remarked that those
of her books which had taken most with the public
had always been those containing a character of
whom she herself had been really fond. The
people in the Young Stepmother, though cleverly
drawn, are not very engaging ; but the necessary
object of affection was soon found in Louis Fitz-
jocelyn, the hero of Dynevor Terrace, which ap-
peared in 1857. "I think I have always loved
him more than Guy," his author once said. Perhaps
Louis was a little too charming for this world, but
the book contains some most solid and excellent
character-drawing which, if a personal opinion may
be given, I do not think she ever surpassed. Mrs.
Frost is hardly, if at all, inferior to Dr. May. She
told Miss Dyson that one of the heroines, Mary
Ponsonby, was meant to recall her dear cousin
Anne, but though real people seem sometimes to
have suggested her characters, the characters walked
away from them, and in this case I should suppose

1 Nevertheless this was the story so eagerly read by Tennyson, as related
in his Life.

198 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

that Anne was a much cleverer and more humorous
person than her reflection, who, though good, is
rather dull.

Professor Dowden, in his book The Mind of
Shakespeare, makes an interesting remark to the
efifect that Shakespeare glorified practical people
like Henry the Fifth because he felt in himself the
passions and perplexities of a Hamlet or a Romeo.
Charles Kingsley probably knew the temptations
to the faults he denounces most vigorously, and as
Charlotte Yonge, however good, could never be
humdrum, she rebukes in herself any tendency to
intellectual pride by glorifying good people who
were not clever.

The Lances of Lynwood carried on the line of
historical tales at this time, and two little books,
Leonard the Lion-Heart and Ben Sylvester's Word,
were written for school-children, with the author's
peculiar power of representing village life.

In the September of 1857, however, an important
break occurred in the routine. Lord Seaton was
at this time Governor of the Royal Hospital at
Dublin, and Charlotte, with her cousin Anne, went
to act as bridesmaids to his daughter Jane, on her
marriage to Captain Montgomery Moore.

Miss Jane Colborne was a very favourite cousin,
full of animation and liveliness, and the sweetness
of her temper appears to have given Charlotte
hints for the character of Amy in the Heir of
Redclyffe.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 199

(Charlotte wrote many letters to her mother
during her fortnight's stay, of which one of the
most interesting is here given. It shows her vivid
sense of all that was most striking in what must
have been a really remarkable scene from its his-
torical setting — the noble old age of Lord Seaton
himself, for which Charlotte always felt the most
loving admiration, and the many remarkable people
gathered together on this occasion.

The author of the Heir of Redclyffe may have
been one of these in the estimation of others ; in her
own she was only the cousin bridesmaid, conscious
of shyness and unreadiness in social matters, and
taking a curiously youthful attitude towards the
affair. The experience of this visit supplied the
mise en scene for the Irish tour described in Hopes
and Fears.

A change, however, in the home circle presently
came about. In 1858 Julian Yonge engaged
himself to Miss Frances Walter, and married her
on the 25th of August of the same year. The
young couple came home to Otterbourne House,
and Charlotte looked forward to the new com-
panionship with the greatest delight. The village
people told her " she was quite proud of having
a sister," and her letters to Miss Dyson and to
Anne are full of the beauty and the charms of the
young bride.

The arrangement was one which it is always
difficult to carry out. There was not much scope

200 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

for the newcomer in a house already in full working
order, and there must have been much that was
new and perplexing to a girl of nineteen in the
bookish talk, and the rather peculiar intellectual
atmosphere of that unique circle of friends and
relations. Also, it does not seem to have occurred
to any one, and certainly not to Charlotte herself,
that a person of so much consequence as she had
become, with so many occupations and interests,
and calls upon her time, required more space, both
mental and physical, than she could obtain in a
mixed household. It is not therefore surprising
that, as the babies came, Mrs. Yonge and Charlotte
decided to migrate to Elderfield and to set up there
by themselves.

In the meantime, however, the first little nephew
was a wonderful delight, and during his short life
her letters are filled with his little doings.

It was in 1859, the same year as little William
Yonge was born and died, that Charlotte added
another interest to the many that filled her mind.
Owing to the destruction of the correspondence
with Miss Mary Coleridge, it is inevitable that this
third great friendship of Charlotte's life should
appear less prominent than was really the case, but
it was very warm and strong, and continued happily
till much later in life, as this friend was spared to
her for many years. Mary Coleridge suffered at
this time from severe headaches, and led an invalid
life.

VIII MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 201

John Duke Coleridge's daughter, Mildred, was
then an exceptionally brilliant and clever child, in
her early teens, and there were several girl cousins
growing up, cousins' cousins also and young friends.
Most of these girls had time on their hands.
Education was often desultory, and High Schools
had not been thought of. Magazine competitions
were not invented, and it occurred to Miss Coleridge
that the young ones needed a spur to their energies.
She proposed that they should form a society among
themselves, setting four questions a month in turn,
and sending in the answers, the best set to be
chosen and to travel round the circle. She very
soon, if not at once, proposed that " Cousin
Charlotte " should be the critic and referee. I
think Charlotte was asked to be Minerva to a set of
young owls. She chose to be Mother Goose to a
brood of goslings, and for many a long year she
gave us of her best — her eager interest in interesting
knowledge, her careful guidance in good taste and
good feeling, her love of innocent fun, and her
hearty encouragement of every one's best faculties.
Each girl had a name by which her papers were
signed — Lady Bird, Gurgoyie, Chelsea China, Bog
Oak, and many another.

Among the set were afterwards numbered Miss
Peard and Miss Florence Wilford, and for a short
time Mrs. Humphry Ward. Among the first
members were myself; Paulina Martyn, grand-
daughter of Dr. James Coleridge ; Alice, daughter

202 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

of Francis Coleridge, and afterwards Lady Warden
of St. Anne's, Abbots Bromley ; Mildred, now Mrs.
Adams ; the Miss Fursdons, and several others ;
while Emily Moberly, now Mrs. William Awdry,
Miss Anderson Morshead, and Miss Butler, now
Mrs. Lewis Knight, joined the brood in later
years.

"Mother Goose" had a veto on the questions
asked ; she allowed us to endeavour to " define
space," but declined to correct papers on all the
revolutions in history in which money matters had
been concerned. She did not consider " Who was
the man in the iron mask ? " or " What is the secret
of freemasonry ? " sufficiently hopeful subjects of
inquiry, though they then appeared to many of
us of absorbing interest. There was a proportion
of questions on religious subjects, and others on
historical, scientific, or literary matters. After a
little while our MS. magazine, called the Barnacle,
was got up every quarter, in which drawings,
fiction, and verse had their place. This was
modelled on the Hursley Magazine of her own
youth, and its best title-pages were adaptations
from the older ones. The Barnacle contained
some clever writings and still cleverer drawings ;
it lasted for several years and died a natural death,
as its chief contributors found their way into
the Monthly Packet and its Christmas numbers ;
but the " goslings," with many ups and downs,
for of course the young cousinhood grew up and

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 203

passed away, lasted about fifteen years, when one
Michaelmas Day " Mother Goose " and one of
her first and last goslings, myself, dined together
on roast goose, and solemnly decided that our
work was done and we must merge into " Arachne "
and her Spiders in the Monthly Packet.

I have dwelt on this subject, not only because
it is the sweetest of old memories to many who
may read these pages, and because it was as a
"gosling" that I began to grow up to the great
joy of intimacy and friendship with her whom I
always loved to call " Mother Goose," but because
I think her relation to us precisely exemplified
that in which she stood to numberless other girls
and young women who only knew her through her
writings. The pleasure she took in all that pleased
us, the guidance she gave without seeming to preach,
the enthusiasm with which we regarded her, also
inspired her readers and made them all her life
like a circle of friends.

In the January of 1861 she and her mother paid
a visit to London, and there, at Sir John Duke
Coleridge's house in Southwick Crescent, all
"goslings" within reach were asked to meet her.
I imagine that she felt very shy, for our mothers
were behind us as we sat in a circle round her,
and I remember hardly anything that passed.
She was then tall and rather thin, with dark hair
touched with grey, worn in a net, and very bright
dark eyes.

204 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

In the spring of 1862, almost immediately after
the move to Elderfield, I paid a visit to friends
in Winchester and went out with Miss Emily
Moberly and spent the day at Otterbourne, and
afterwards spent two or three days there.

This first visit, which seemed to me then an
admission into Paradise, was typical of many others,
and I recall several things in connection with it
most characteristic of Charlotte.

She discovered that I had never made a cowslip
ball, and she took me into Cranbury Park and
made one for me on the narrow velvet with which
a locket was tied round her neck. She took me
with her to the Sunday School, and let me sit by
while she taught her class. Her brilliant skilful
teaching, and the various methods on which
she enlightened me, set the standard for me
of what might be done in school-teaching. A
nightingale, the first I ever heard, sang loudly
in a lilac bush outside the window of the little
rustic school (now the Otterbourne reading-room)
as she taught.

Then she told me the story on which she was
then engaged ; it was I think the Dove in the
Eagle's Nest, but at this distance of time it is
difficult to distinguish between many such visits.
She always knew her stories, so to speak, by heart,
and would stand still, when out at walk, and
pour them out eagerly and dramatically, claiming
sympathy for each detail ; or sit on the floor in

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 205

front of the fire and discuss the characters with
unflagging interest. The fascination of all this
to a girl with the same tastes and aspirations was
of course immense.

I cannot really distinguish between the events
of one of these early visits and another. We
played paper games when other "goslings" were
of the party, and worked up each other's wits in
all kinds of ways.

Charlotte comes before me in the period of her
early middle life, with hair already white turned
off her broad forehead, but with still black brows
and lashes, with hazel eyes which flashed and
laughed, and a constantly changing countenance.
She was at this time very handsome, and when
she was at ease a most brilliant talker — talking
and writing almost at the same time — with an
untiring capacity for interest and enjoyment.

From Miss Moberly's Journal

In 1852 Charlotte had been asked to be godmother to
the youngest of the Moberly daughters, and she writes, " Ho;w
I shall look forward to the christening day and to having a
possession of my own in your house ! I wonder what you will
think of my venturing, since you have said nothing about a
second name, to say how much I should like her to be Margaret
Helen, though it is only on account of some fancies of my
own."

We learn also that after the baby was christened Charlotte
said that she proposed to write a story about a good Margaret,
the Margaret in the Heir of Redclyffe being very disagreeable,
and May was chosen for the family name in the Daisy Chain
because little Margaret Moberly was born in May, and the story

2o6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

seemed especially to belong to her family, who had taken a farm
between Otterbourne and Hursley called Field House, where they
came for change of air, and which was near enough to Otter-
bourne for frequent intercourse.

Extract from Letter to Miss Dyson
( Visit of Bishop Selwyn to Winchester)

Otterbourne, _/«<«« 9, 1854.

My dear Marianne — . . . But all this time you have not
heard how I had three walks between College and St. John's
house arm-in-arm with the Bishop ! Don't you call that
preferment ?

We went to the Cathedral with the troop of Moberlys, and I
am glad my first sight of him was in his lawn sleeves. I never
saw a face of which one would so much say it was inspired.
I was surprised to see so much youthfulness of complexion, I don't
mean redness, but that fresh fair clearness that one would not
have expected after having been so much exposed, and his hair
quite bright brown. " How beautiful he is," Mrs. Keble and I
said to each other. She thinks his head like some print of an
Apostle, and says she cannot imagine any savage resisting
his eye. It is such a striking eye, so calm and yet so keen. I
thought, though the colouring and form were very different, it
had a likeness in expression to papa's, the repose and yet the
quick observance. Mrs. K. thought the same. The print is
just like, except that from being a full face you would not know
from it that the chin projects somewhat. Calfdom ought to
report the sermon, so I will not, except that it was a very grand
one, and it showed me how able Mrs. Abraham's abstracts are.
His speech at the meeting was quite the daughter of the sermon,
saying all that was not fit for the Cathedral in the same spirit.
But I had better tell you in more order, how after Cathedral
we went to the College, and I shrank into the Moberly home to
avoid the mighty luncheon at the Warden's. I had previously
given Dr. Moberly ;^i46:ios. for Maggie to present in an
envelope, whereon mamma had written " Towards the vessel

V..I MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 207

for the Island Mission.'' Dr. M. was as kind as possible, and
managed beautifully ; after luncheon he took Maggie in his arms,
and Emily in his hand, and went into the Warden's garden,
where he let me creep off out of the way into the path by the
river, and sent Johnnie, who was cutting capers on the lawn, to
fetch out his papa and mamma. So then on the lawn, where
there were no spectators but Mary Barter, they made the dear
little Maggie trot up and give it to him, and he took her up
and kissed her, and I believe Dr. Moberly told him how it
began, etc., so after a little delay Dr. M. called Alice, who was
with me, and we turned and met, and Dr. M. introduced us, and
Johnnie came and shook hands, and the Bishop talked to me of
my Uncle Charles who was his Eton tutor, and of all my Eton
cousins, till the Warden came to call us to the meeting. Mrs.
Selwyn did not go, and the Bishop took me, and was as kind
to me as if I had been Wabisana.^ Anne had the Warden to
walk with. At the meeting I happily pitched into a corner
between the Kebles, and all the little whispering comments were
delightful. . . .

The grand old Warden returned thanks in a glorious speech,
especially where he said what the heathen wanted was not only
money but men, not only men but gentlemen, yes gentlemen,
for a true gentleman was the perfection of the Christian law.
Honour all men, love the brotherhood. Honour all men by
being ready to do the least service for the poorest savage. It
was all with the quiver of earnestness from the bottom of his
great warm heart. That was all of note, and then came the
going home. The Bishop asked me if I was going back to the
College, and when I said yes, if I would come with him. I
asked if the Miss Palmers were there, and he said yes, just
behind us, so he introduced us in the street, and we said we
should meet in the evening, and off we walked again, and met
Mr. Keble in a narrow alley with Mrs. K.'s shawl on his arm,
and his eyes dancing partly to congratulate me, I think. It
was real good talk that I got, about the doings in N.Z. I went
in at the Moberlys, where the children, who are very fond of

1 A Melanesian convert.

2o8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap

Anne, were showing her over the house. Mrs. Selwyn had had
half an hour's little private meeting with Mrs. Moberly, who saw
no one else, not even the farm children. At five we (Miss
Croker, Alice, Anne, Dr. M. and I) went to the cram-full
drawing-room at the Warden's, and there I sat next Miss M. A,
Palmer on the ottoman, and had a talk about you, etc., and I
saw a little of Mrs. Selwyn, who has been introduced to Prince
Albert and one of the princes, and rejoices in having it to tell
her N.Z. folk. She looks thin and brown, but her eyes do
sparkle, and I can quite see how she makes beds instead of
difficulties. Johnnie ^ was lost.- He had been sleeping by the
water, and seems to go about rather as if he was exploring a
savage country. Mary Barter found him creeping on all fours
upstairs, and asked if he knew his way. " Oh no, but I shall
soon find it." Every one is charmed with him, but he preserves
his loyalty to N.Z. and will not admire too much. A mighty
long, not in time but in length of table, dinner in the gallery.
The Bishop had Lady Eleanor Wodehouse for his neighbour.
I should have said she came to shake hands with me, but I
could get no talk with her as we were on opposite sides of a
street of ladies seated (I mean in the drawing-room), with
gentlemen meandering between. Mrs. WilUams was on the
Bishop's other side, which I was glad of, as she could not go
to the meetings. I was next to Mr. Woodcock. After dinner
every one scrambled to get ready for the meeting, and for a
wonder, Anne and I fell in with the Warden and Bishop again.
" Happy girl," said the Warden to me, while the Bishop was
looking out a Maori letter to show at the meeting. Then the
Warden began to lament over having to take the chair. " Never
mind," said the Bishop, " you have an Artesian well, and it is
the warmest near the source.'' The Bishop had said he was
so struck with that warm earnest way the Warden reads family
prayers in. Then in walking on, the Bishop spoke about the
money, saying it was so much he almost scrupled at it, but all
in the kindest way, and sending thanks to mamma for her
interest in the matter, and it ended in his saying, " I suppose

' John Selwyn, afterwards Bishop.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 209

I am joint heir with the heir of Redclyffe," which dehghts
mamma particularly. He has the price of the old ship ready
towards the new, and good hopes of doing it ; indeed he said
he had never known what it was to want, though he had often
not known whence the supplies would come. At the evening
meeting he told more anecdotes, all Maori history, and some Maori
stories, and the like, and at 9 J it was over. Anne, Mr. Wither, and
I came home, and there was mamma quite ready for our news. We
feel nmch as if we had been to a ball, but are off to Hursley at six,
hoping to see more of Mrs. Selwyn and Johnnie. You shall have a
supplement on the subject perhaps to-morrow.

Mr. Keble sent us a beautiful letter to read from Colonel
Wilbraham, telling of the service Julian mentioned. It was in
the hall of a Turkish barrack, a deal table for an altar, great
numbers of officers present, and as they had no benches, all
stood till the confession, and then at the kneeling the clank of so
many swords on the floor was, he said, a very impressive sound.
Full half the Rifle officers were there. I am glad he goes in the
same division ; it is so pleasant to get his side news of Julian,
besides the value of such a friend. He has had much talk with
Greeks and Greek clergy, and finds them quite against the
Russians, because of Nicholas' usurping authority over the
Church. One old priest showed him his church and school, and
was delighted to see his little Greek Testament, and compare it
with his great book in church. They are all gone to Varna now,
and perhaps on to relieve Silistria. I fear it will be long before
we can have other letters. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Y.

Miss Moberly's recollections are given. It will
be perceived that her account does not quite tally
with the letter, but no doubt the children were un-
aware of the previous preparation.

From Miss Moberly's Journal, 1854

The Bishop of New Zealand and Mrs. Selwyn came to Hursley
at the beginning of June, and there were large and interesting

2IO CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

missionary meetings at Hursley and Winchester. On the day
that it was at Winchester, we children were playing about in the
Warden's garden in the late afternoon. We saw Mr. Keble
coming over the bridge with the Warden and Bishop Selwyn, as
they came down the garden towards us. Miss Yonge put a packet
into little Maggie's hand, who was a toddling thing of two years
old, and told her to give it to the Bishop, which she obediently
did. It was the proceeds of the Heir of Redclyffe with which the
missionary ship the Southern Cross was afterwards built. After-
wards the proceeds of the Daisy Chain (which was not yet
published) were given to the missionary college at Kolimarama.

To Mrs. William Yonge

Royal Hospital, October i, 1857.

My dear Mamma — The day is over, and a most satisfactory
and prosperous day it was ; if people are to have a grand wedding
it should be just such a one. You heard of us till just after the
real breakfast, from which time Miss de Salis, Anne and I worked
at the ilowers and wedding presents till twelve, when we dressed,
and Jane came to Miss de Salis' room to have her veil on. She
had been rather knocked up upstairs and had a dose of our sal
volatile, but she was quite composed and like herself, and looked
as nice as could be. Then little Constantia Wood arrived driven
up in a perambulator, looking like a little queen, with her father
and mother walking behind. Everybody was in full uniform,
Lord S. with three stars and three crosses. When Jane was ready
we went down into the end room.

All the doors being open the length is grand, and it is
like the Speaker coming up to the Queen to go from the end
room up to the chapel. Jane and all the bridesmaids were shut
into the end room, and paired off, Elizth. and Delia, Anne and
me, Miss de Salis and Lady Barbara, the two Miss Gascoignes,
and Alethea and Constantia ; after them two pretty little girls,
Lady Anne and Lady Rachel Scott, whom Lord Clonmel would
not allow to be bridesmaids, but were in muslin and blue, looking
very nice. Lord S. came for Jane, and marched off so fast that
our procession became a race almost. After us came Aunt

vm MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 211

Seaton with Lord Carlisle, and how the others came I cannot
say. All the indifferent ones had been sent into chapel first, so
it was only the family. Captain Moore was gone on with Graham,
and his best man, Major Learmouth. The grand thing was that
in the hall were ranged all the old pensioners, making a long line
on each side of the space, all in their red coats and cocked hats,
which they wear broadsided like a beadle. It was a magnificent
spectacle, and so suited to the military wedding. There are three
high steps up to the altar, so Graham stood beautifully above us,
Captain Moore and Jane on the top step, then Lord Seaton next
below, and we all spread out in a semi-circle. Graham read
better than I ever heard that service, and except that Captain
Moore was in too great a hurry with the ring, nothing could have
been more perfect than their action ; Jane's bending, shrinking
towards him was the prettiest bride-like thing I ever saw. The
picture was perfect, the bright-painted window above the dark,
almost black oak carvings — Corinthian columns with festoons, in
the Grinling Gibbon style — the wide chancel, Graham looking so
tall and well in his surplice and scarf ; Jane's slim bending figure.
Captain Moore upright and soldierly in his scarlet staff uniform,
and his best man in dark cavalry blue ; Lord S. of course most
beautiful, white-haired and upright, and then the half-circle of
bridesmaids, all white picked out with blue, as pretty a dress as
could be. Of course I could not judge of more than what was
before me, but that was very pretty — nay, a good deal more. A
deep recess under a window in the hall is used for a vestry, and
there all the signing was done, and it was the most perfect picture
of all — Jane leaning down and signing, Graham in his surplice in
the chair, and Lord Seaton's scarlet just giving a sort of cameo
setting to the two figures, and his grey head towering above.
The Lord Lieutenant came into the said recess, and kissed her
hand. He and Lord Cardigan, Major Freke, Colonel Wood, and
Mr. Drummond signed, so, as Graham says, all nations were re-
presented. Then we paraded into the drawing-room, and stood
while the place was filling with everybody in the world, or in the
army, Jane and Captain Moore sitting in the ante-room to receive
the select. After all, her courage was up to go into the breakfast
with the Lord Lieutenant, Aunt Seaton with Captain Moore, Lord

212 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

S., Lady Howth, Lord Cardigan, Lady Cheedlemont, then the
herd, male and female after their kind, as Mr. Drummond said.
I fell to Mr. Currie Conellan, and had Sir Richard Dacres on the
other side — a fine hearty weather-beaten old soldier, whom I had
got rather acquainted with at the dinner-party and the Curragh,
and so I was very happy and comfortable, except that the band
was too near for us to hear ourselves speak.

I forgot the giving of favours which was in the hall, after the
signing. We ran about with them and the pins, and I luckily
fell upon people I rather knew than otherwise. The most re-
markable event was Miss de Salis catching Mr. Hare with a
bridesmaid's favour on. Little Alethea looked very pretty and
exceedingly solemn all the morning. Reginald and Lionel were
greatly at their ease, and Lionel chose to trot about on his own
feet in the midst of the throng in the most independent way.
The two little bridesmaids were the prettiest httle fairy things that
could be. Lady Maria Scott, whom we remember so pretty and
little at James's wedding, has grown very pretty and graceful.
She was at the table ; her two sisters and little brother dined
separately, ran about and looked on, the little blue visions
peeping out of the drawing-room every now and then. It was a
great horse-shoe table, holding ii6 people, without the least
crowding or discomfort, and the scene was as pretty as anything
of the kind could be. The Lord Lieutenant made what might
well be called a great speech, quite short, and saying how well
the scene suited the occasion, the temple of Mars transformed
into the bower of Hymen ; then came all sorts of good wishes
of happiness, prosperity, and peace to the young couple, and
though peace might not be the most appropriate wish for a
military man, he hoped that if peace should not continue, the
bride would prove to be the wife, as well as the daughter, of
a hero. Wherewith he stopped, and Lord S. and Captain Moore
each thanked without attempting speechifying. Lord Cardigan
was to have proposed the bridesmaids' health, and the best man
was in the agonies of composition of a reply, but Jane made the
merciful blunder of getting up too soon, and carrying us back into
the drawing-room, by which I hope " our health may not be in-
damnified." The cake, a magnificent structure, over which H.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 213

had heard four Frenchmen chattering, followed us, and I unluckily
was caught near it, and made to make the first incision with the
help of Major Learmouth. And then soon after came the Lord
Lieutenant and spoke to me (Aunt Seaton had introduced me
before, and I had made a curtsey as well as nature or art would
permit, and thought of Miss Bronte). I was all the better that
none of our own party were near to mark my flounderings, so he
talked politely of how long I had been here, etc., and said I came
from a very pretty county, so I found he meant Devon, and had
to explain it was Hants, whereupon he asked if Barchester Towers
was taken from Winchester, and I said some of the circumstances
but not the people, and he supposed I should think it flippant.
Then he hoped I should not be idle, and asked if a plot was not
the hardest part, to which I said, " all ladies found it so except
Miss Austen," and he answered, " I am glad to hear you speak
with respect of Miss Austen," and then after a little more as to
how long I was going to stay, it came to an end, and I made my
escape to Uncle Edward, and got into the recess by the garden
door, where we could not get out again, and reviewed all the
company as they took their departure. Then the bride and
bridegroom came downstairs, Jane looking so nice and natural
that I did not recollect what had happened at the first moment.
They had their dinner with us, all looking on and talking and
laughing over the humours of the day, and looking at a beautiful
perfectly-fitted travelling bag given by Captain Middleton, which
we think the most perfect of the wedding presents, not excepting
Lord Cardigan's diamond ring. It was especially comfortable to
have them so quietly after all the fuss, and to have the talking
over so pleasantly.

One wonderful adventure was the finding a scared half-witted
seeming man, respectably dressed, curled up in one of the
recesses of the hall. A policeman was sent for, and James
sent down to the address he gave to see if the account he gave
of himself was true, though nobody could make much of it.
We all peeped at the man as a curiosity through the curtains
between the hall and drawing-room, and Miss de Salis mercifully
stepped out and took him a bit of cake and glass of wine,
which unloosed his tongue, and he told them that he had

214 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

wandered home from a party, half drunk, without knowing what he
was about, got in there, and fell asleep, when he was waked
by the band and all this pageant. The best of it was that all
the people round took him for a detective and were on their
good behaviour ! If you could but have seen how very pretty
Anne looked with her bright colour, wreath and veil, and how
well she got on with everybody, you would have been delighted.
Afterwards we all sat in the drawing-room, and Delia, Mr.
Drummond and I plunged into that favourite element of ours,
Italian history, and the genealogy of the Borgias. I am sorry
to say it was the last of it, for Mr. Drummond went early this
morning to the Giant's Causeway. He has been a very agreeable
ingredient in the visit, and his Italian history is wonderful. I
think Julian would like him very much, and if ever he goes to
Dunse I hope he will meet him. Meantime if you do not hear
to-morrow, conclude that we are at Glendalough. On Saturday
or Sunday I will write about home-coming. It is just possible
that if Miss de Salis knows for certain that she shall cross on
Tuesday I shall wait for her, but she depends upon her eldest
brother, and if it is doubtful I will not wait. The other brother
sails on the 5 th for India.

Will you be so kind as to send an abstract of this to Susan
Nelson ? I promised Delia that I would give her an account,
and I am much afraid I shall hardly manage even one for
Mary Coleridge. Mr. Matcham was there, and always went
by the name of Captain Moore's uncle, so that if I had not
known who he was no one would have got at his name at all.
I have just been writing out the marriage for the Times — funny
work. Jane's direction is Birt, Athy, and you must mind that
her surname is Montgomery Moore. I promised her that you
should write. I do think it is a most perfect marriage, quite
satisfying me as to the matchableness of the two people, and
that is much to say where Jane is concerned. We are going
to Dublin after luncheon. Meantime this long letter has made
me miss the post, but if you don't send to Winton that will not
matter. Miss de S. made Jane put the cake through her ring
nine times, and we all sleep on it. I did not dream at all, being
much too sleepy, and nothing else has transpired but from Miss

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 215

de S., that her brother asked Mr. Currie Conellan to dinner,
and he could not come because Taylor^ the poet was staying
with him. Miss de S. and Anne were the beauties of the
bridesmaids. — Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

To Mrs. William Yonge

Royal Hospital, October 3.

My dear Mamma — Yesterday made my news run into arrears,
so I will only note that you must ask me about the College, and
the three black Graces perched round the bell, with Science
to make a fourth, and how we took them for Faith, Hope, and
Charity, and Graham said Irish divinity had not much to do
with faith, and the beautiful embodiment of Ruskinism in the
new museum with green Galway marble columns, and foliage
carved from the living plants. And the MSS. in the library
with the book of Kells, dug out of a bog, and another book
with a wooden cover, in which is set a huge crystal, believed
by the devout to be one of the stones of Jacob's pillar, also
the one I most longed to turn over. A missal of St. Agnes'
Convent of 1459 where there was a border with the regular
gold leaves and black stems, and all our old friends, the turned-
over leaves with white patterns upon them, but with little
beautiful portraits of saints springing out of them ; also an
Apocalypse with such a Beast, but they were all in glass cases
where only two pages could be seen, and the Irish are so
dreadfully afraid of being overworked that they shut everything
up at three, and the Library at four, so my time was short.
Then Graham trained us off to see a wonderful chapel of Mr.
Newman's, with frescoes done by Mr. Pollen from the cartoons —
melancholy work.

Yesterday morning we had to be off at eight, the five ladies
namely and Graham, when Julian will laugh at hearing that the
funds provided to take six people fifty-four miles on the railway,
and thirty-six by cars, were a single one-pound note which
Elizabeth had lost, so I had to give Graham my purse, or we

1 Sir Henry Taylor, author of Philip van Artevelde.

2i6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

should never have gone at all. The railway took us to it ,

whence we took two cars, and drove first to the Devil's Glen,
one of those beautiful wooden ravines, with a wild river foaming
over rocks, and fine crags rising perpendicularly overhead.
Afterwards a waterfall, of the flight of steps order, at which we
were ordered to look through a hole which framed it beautifully,
but was not easy of access, and beyond was a breakneck place
called King O'Toole's chain, where those who liked hung over
the rock. Then we drove on to Glendalough, a wondrous place,
very like the pictures of it, where we were guided by an
exaggerated Irishman evidently acting a part, who told me when
I found a frog that I might put it into my bosom, but that there
were neither toads (stones there were in plenty) nor snakes, for
we live in a civilised country. The glen is a great gorge between
the mountains, with a mountain stream swelling in the valley
into two grey lakes, less gloomy than I had expected, but then
it was a very fine day. The flat part of the valley and the
lower slopes towards the outermost lake are beautifully green
and wooded, and on the shoulder of the mountain, among the
wood, lay one of the most beautiful patches of verdure I ever
saw, all the brighter from the contrast with the rough mountain
side, brown and yellow in colouring, the material being black
and white sparry stones (?) grown over with heather and dwarf
furze. The torrent comes rushing down from the hills, and
makes a grey sparkling line in the middle of the amphitheatre
that shuts in the inner lake, which, like its fellow, and the stream,
has a broad trimming of white or grey sand, the ddbris of the
spar above. One of the tributaries forms a pretty waterfall with
black rock to set it off, projecting in curious shapes. It was
tolerably full, for we were told there had been so much rain that
the rock was so slippery that a widow's cow had tumbled off a
crag, and either killed or kicked four hares. The seven Churches
are disposed about the glen, two are nothing but heaps of stones ;
the two best, the " Cathedral " and St. Kevin's kitchen, stand in
a crowded graveyard of the Byrnes and O'Tooles full of hideous
headstones. There are some interesting old broken crosses on
cofifin lids, dealing much in circles by way of embellishment, and
the Church of St. Kevin's kitchen has a round belfry like a little

VIII MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 217

round tower. A straight, blunt, tall round tower stood close by,
like the other ruins, perfectly yellow with lichen. All this must
have been a four-mile walk; Miss de S. says that between it
and the Devil's Glen we had walked six miles, and as I had
started with a cold in my head, and the sandwiches had been
forgotten, I was rather done for by the time we came back to
a most Irish little inn, where these people, who can eat wedding
cake all the morning, or eat nothing at all with equal impunity,
ordered eggs and tea, which last was evidently made of the peat
of the bogs, and gave me some cold mutton, as I had prejudices
in favour of animal food —

By that lake whose gloomy tea
China's shores did never see.

Then on our cars we mounted for about twenty miles to
Bray, where we were to take train again, and a strange wild drive
it was, with the moon shining on the waste heath, and a great
purple hill rising up against the sky as if it would never come
any nearer, but at last we did turn round it, and went along a
magnified and magnificent valley of rocks, great perpendicular
crags rising up like castles, and ending in rocks of odd shapes.
It seemed to me the grandest thing of all, but it was not under
favourable circumstances, for the car was such a jolter that we
are all as stiff as if we had been riding all day. I was dreadfully
tired, and Cordelia was talking to me all the way about presenti-
ments. We had meant to catch the 7.25 train from Bray, but
were not in time for it, and had three-quarters of an hour in a
luxurious refreshment room, where being past eating anything,
I thought it a most knowing dodge to remember Julian and take
a dose of brandy and water,''which put me grandly to sleep all
the way to Dublin, and there our final adventure was that the
sentry would not open the gate to us, and there we sat till the
guard was changed, and fetched the sergeant to our rescue, when
the sentry's face of satisfaction in having sold us, grinning out
under his bearskin, was a picture. Once when little Lionel was
ill, the doctor was kept waiting a quarter of an hour in that way.
— Your most affectionate C. M. Y.

2i8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Anne Yonge
{^Julian's Home-coming)

Otterbourne, December i.

My dear Anne — Of course you know that the imaginary wheels
we had so often heard turned to real at half-past eight that evening.
We had had a visit from Lady Heathcote with her paper to show
the British Queen had got in at Falmouth, and then she was so
kind as to drive on to Winchester, where she got the letter, which
made us very comfortable though rather upsetting mamma, and
obliging her to have recourse to strong coifee, more especially as
she was rather over-tired by walking to Hursley Church, as we
generally do on a Saint's day. However, he has set her to rights,
and she is very bright to-day, though we neither of us got our
proper sleep last night. He looks thin and is languid, but his
face is not in the least altered, and he has by no means realised
Laura's dream that he had come home in big red whiskers. I
am sure if he had stayed in that climate it would have been the
death of him. We can hardly believe that the suspense is over at
last, or what makes us so much brighter. And here we are, all
three writing letters as hard as we can, except when we are talk-
ing. Rover very happy, though, as he took a day's sport with the
Hursley keeper, he is still so tired and stiff that he can only
indicate his joy with his tail, and such of his eye as is not scratched
out by briars. Mr. Wither came in for a few minutes last night,
and put in Julian's name before the thanksgiving this morning.
He had thought of coming to see you, but found " he must come
home first," and indeed, though it seemed joy enough to know
him in England, it is better to have him here. Anent the nurses,
I find the Kebles are not at this moment looking out for them
for the East, but we do wish to know of some such persons,
though the time is not yet come for speaking to them.

You know there is a hamlet of Hursley, towards Winchester,
named Pitt, too far from church and school, so that Mr. Keble
has in Lent been reading prayers there in a room, and I knew
they (the Kebles) wished much to do something for it. So it

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 219

has ended in my offering that money of Guy's, etc., which has
been so much on my mind, for the purpose, and it turns out to
have been a dream of Mr. Keble's to build a school with a room
to be licensed for a chapel, and there to place some good lady
with a girl to teach the school, and also to have two or more
nurses living there, trained, and fit to go out among the poor,
also to make it a home for girls out of place, but this is more
doubtful ; the lady and the two nurses are to form the nucleus,
and we want to know of them before the step is taken on which
all must depend, namely, the asking the Bishop's consent. The
lady is, we hope, found, provided she does not wish to go to the
East, so that negotiation has been opened, and if things go on
well I will write about your staid people. I told Mr. Keble of
them, and he said, " I should like to have some one of Miss Anne
Yonge's recommending." It would not be worth while to say
anything to them till the plans are more complete. Mr. Keble's
notion is to have the people trained while the house is building,
as the land is luckily Sir William's, and he (Sir William) quite
enters into it (I don't know what is the matter with my pronouns).
It is quite a long time since I wrote, and I hardly know what I
have told you, and what not ; these last three weeks have been
a terrible strain on all one's senses, to keep up talk and occupa-
tion, and to try to be patient. I do think it has been the worst
time of all. But it has ended very happily, and here we write
letters and talk, and Julian is reading up his newspapers. He is
more weak than I thought he was earlier in the day ; he has that
chilliness of weakness about him, and is tired beyond even walk-
ing down to Mr. Wither's, though he has done nothing but going
to church. He and the stiff Rover are very good company for
each other. His goods went on to London by mistake, but he
promises us a fine unpacking of curiosities. Such a funny
account of little Duke in charge of a boat where some grand
officer demanded a passage, and this little fellow adhering to his
orders to take in nobody. Sir E. Lyon was so delighted when
he heard it that he had the little fellow to breakfast the next
morning to hear all the story.

220 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Anne Yonge

{Julian's Wedding)

Otterbourne, Winchester,
September lo, 1858.

My dear Anne — . . . Graham and James Yonge went away
before we were up this morning, and it would all have seemed like
a dream if Duke had not been there at breakfast. Alice Moberly
came out in the fly that fetched us, and spent the whole day with
mamma ; they gave the schools some buns and sugared negus by
way of celebration, and I think mamma did very well.

I think we must have made a very pretty procession ; Julian
went into church first with Mrs. Walter and James, and then
when the Colonel brought Frances, we six bridesmaids lined the
pretty lych-gate, all hung with festoons of flowers, and closed in
behind her. She had been a good deal overcome while waiting
at home, and much more in real need of sal-volatile than Jane
was, and I believe she had a very bad headache all day, but she
was quite right as long as she had anything to do, and was very
bright and pretty at the luncheon, with little Herbert upon her
lap. Poor Louisa was very much distressed, and little Gertrude
looked so pale, and clung to her every moment she could.
There were about thirty-six people at the luncheon, at a table
arranged like a T. . . . Julian looked very nice and well, and
one longs for their coming home to eat the great piece of honey-
comb which Kezia's mother has most appropriately presented. . . .

The school-children scattered laurel leaves and flowers, and
the church was very full of people. Julian told me to send
thanks for the pretty little obelisk and the two plates — how very
well the sweetwilliam is done, and I have a special delight in
the white flower at the base of the obelisk. Mr. Keble is going
to give him a big Bible. I have so many letters to write that I
cannot go on any longer. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Yonge.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 221

Death of Mr. and Mrs. Keble

It was in March 1866 that the great influence of
Charlotte's life was withdrawn from her sight, and
that the dearest of friends and neighbours were
taken from her. The death of Mr. and Mrs. Keble,
as she once said, " brought youth to an end " for
her, and sorely must they have been missed in the
trouble that was coming upon her. She rejoiced
to think how much she owed to Mr. Keble's in-
fluence and example ; he must have rejoiced in his
scholar.

She has recorded in Musings on the Christian
Year the last scene of all : — " We at seven in the
morning met his mortal remains in his Church of
All Saints, and went up to the chancel where he
was placed. The greeting sentences were said
when this entrance into the church took place.
Afterwards, at eleven o'clock, it being Wednesday,
we had Matins and Litany, and assembling mourners
little know the comfort and soothing of thus pre-
paring the mind for the actual Burial Service by the
calm recurrence to the Church's regular course.
Those eighth -day -of- the -month Psalms were
especially comforting."

"It was the one bright beautiful day of a cold
wet spring, and the celandines opened and glistened
like stars round the grave where we laid him, and
bade him one last ' God be with you,' with the
twenty-third Psalm, and went home hoping that he

222 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

would not blame us for irreverence for thinking of
him in words applied to the first Saint who bore
his name — ' He was a burning and a shining light,
and ye were willing for a season to rejoice in that
light.'"

It is well known that Mrs. Keble only survived
her husband forty days.

To Miss Dyson

August 19, 1865.

My dear Marianne — We were at Hursley two days ago, and
Miss Best looked so melancholy about Mrs. Keble that we were
quite frightened ; however, she came home from a drive and
seemed to me much better than when I saw her last. I wish
Queen Emma was over,^ but there had been some cross purposes
of letter-writing, and they were not sure when her four days were
to be. I have just seen that Miss Yonge has lived her day in
the Saturday in a:n article against young ladies' " fast " fashions —
as absolutely coarse and indecorous — it is odd to stand for a
generation gone by ! Thanks for the corrections, I can't think
whether I shall ever get those things reprinted ; I have tried, but
nothing comes of it. I am afraid you really thought me can-
tankerous when I flew out the other day ; but it really was much
because the repetition teased mamma, and I saw no use in it when
it could not be helped. I beUeve I am as grateful for criticism
as ever, but one must be convinced oneself before one acts on it,
and therefore I argue. Let me just say too that I think over-
repetition of what has been once said is rather to be avoided, as
there is something chafing and wearying in it, at least to some
minds, when there is no point to be gained by it. I have
generally tried to mend what you objected to, and when I failed,
as with Rachel or Delaford, it was because I did not retrench
enough to bring my idea to yours, or we did not both grasp the

1 A visit from Queen Emma of Honolulu to Hursley.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 223

same idea the same way, as with Honora. And you know how
I have re-written Eustacie ^ because of your censure, so I don't
think I can be less amenable in the main, though I am afraid
you thought me cross. I have made Beranger and Eustacie
much younger and more childish, and am working out Diane, as
I have now called Clotilde. May has sent me a beautiful Lion
of Lucerne.

We go to Puslinch on the 8th, to Ottery on the way I hope.
I am glad summer is come back. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

To Miss Anne Yonge

Elderfield, Otterbohrne,
Winchester, March 29, 1866.

My dear Anne — Thanks for your note in your haste. Of
course we each meant 5 s., I only wish it was more, though I
don't know that I should be writing to-day to say so if I did not
want to tell you of what our hearts are so full of, namely, Mr.
Keble's state. He had seemed well and cheerful through all the
fluctuations of her state, and had written a comfortable note to
Miss Mackenzie when she revived last Wednesday, but on Thurs-
day he fainted, erysipelas in the head came on, he has been
delirious and then unconscious ever since, and they think he will
be in his rest before her. She knows all about it, and yet is not
worse, I believe she feels it very thankworthy, as all who love
them must do, for it was a grief to all to think how he was to
live alone in his broken state. Mrs. T. Keble seems to feel as if
it was holy ground, so peaceful, so patient. I heard from her this
morning as if she thought it would hardly last much longer with
him at least, so that day of Queen Emma was the very last of
my being in the light and peace round them. But still I know
she must so feel it that I could almost congratulate her. And it
is the very week they would have chosen. . . . — Your most
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

1 In the Chaplet of Pearls.

224 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Anne Yonge
(On the Death of Mr. Kebk)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, Good Friday, 1866.

My dear Anne — As we fully expected, the holy and blessed
spirit went to its rest at one o'clock on Thursday mornihg ; the
other gentle spirit is placidly waiting her call to be with him.
She slept quietly after having given thanks after it was over, but was
much overcome on wakening, and this is the last we know of her.
I should feel comforted to know the rest had come, which can-
not be far off now. The erysipelas had nearly passed off, and
the Bournemouth doctor ascribes it altogether to the long strain
of sorrow upon the weakened frame. I am very thankful for both
their sakes, but we feel very desolate. The funeral is to be on
Thursday, and mamma has written to offer a bed to the Peter
Youngs, in case they should not have room at the Vicarage. Mr.
Wither has a terrible cold, and I dread Sunday for him. — Your
most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

To Miss Anne Yonge

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, April d, 1866.

My dear Anne — Most peaceful, most gentle has the day been.
The Psalms suited perfectly, and while we said "In His pleasure
is Life," a butterfly flew about in the sunshine in church. I
had a short talk with the Bishop of Brechin and told him your
abode, and he hopes to come and see you about the end of the
week. You had not sent me the Hursley letter about our dear
Louisa. When you can I shall indeed like to see it. Mrs.
Wilson of Rownhams and I have been clinging together all day.

I did go to the early service, and stayed the time between at
the park. Is not Sir William to be pitied to have to supply such
a place ?

Such a gathering of the good. Some said it was like Para-
dise, but oh ! there tears and mourning will have fled away. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

v.ii MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 225

1862-1868

Elderfield, in which Charlotte Yonge lived from
1862 until the day of her death, was then a pretty-
cottage in the midst of a large old-fashioned garden.
A private path led through the shrubbery from
Otterbourne House, so that the separation was as
slight as it could be, and the two families were able
to meet constantly. The three windows of the
long, low, upstairs drawing-room looked across the
road to the church and school. Each child was
visible as it came up the village, and only a few
steps were needed for classes and superintendence.
Another window looked up the hill towards the
Southampton road, and the situation was extremely
cheerful, and in the midst of life and movement.
The room, and indeed the house, was full to over-
flowing with books and pictures. A beautiful print of
Raphael's St. Margaret, and the notable Knight and
Death of Albert Diirer, were among these pictures.
There were some handsome and valuable books
which had belonged to Mr. Yonge's library, besides
numberless story-books, histories, and educational
books of all kinds. During the six years which
Charlotte spent here with her mother, a great many
stories saw the light, of which the most notable was
the Dove in the Eagle s Nest, which had its rise in
a dream which the author had during a visit to her
aunt and uncle. Dr. and Mrs. Harris, at Torquay.
Dr. Harris was the Vicar of Tor, but as there is no

Q

226 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

vicarage attached to that parish, he lived in Sorel,
his own home in the Croft Road. Here Charlotte
vividly dreamed the scene of the return of the
wounded brothers and their welcome by their
mother on the Castle steps, and hence came the
name of the heroine Christina Sorel. This, which
many think the most beautiful of all her stories, was
something of a new departure, being an historical
study, not for children, but for grown-up people. It
was followed by the Chaplet of Pearls, and by the
Caged Lion, a. storj of which she was herself very fond,
but which was never as popular as the other two.

But the great work of this period was the
History of Christian Names, on which she spent
more research and labour than on anything she ever
undertook. Its object was to record the derivation
and meaning of all Christian names, tracing their
variations in popularity, and mentioning the most
important persons who bore them, in history, poetry,
or classical fiction.

For this book she studied authorities and con-
sulted scholars with all possible care, but the
individuality of the book consisted in the glamour
which it cast over the whole subject, leading its
readers to all sorts of by-ways of history, and
bringing together an immense amount of out-of-the-
way information. The mediaeval period is, naturally,
the most interesting, as it was the period best
known to herself, in which she depended most on
her own special studies and tastes.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 227

She worked very hard at the Christian Names,
and at this time her health was less good than it had
been or than it afterwards became, and she felt the
strain of the hard work much more than was usual
with her. She had other historical studies in hand
at the same time, the Book of Golden Deeds and
Biographies of Good Women among others. Alto-
gether her power of concentrating her attention
on many different matters, her industry and the
immense quantity of work which she was able to
initiate and carry through, was at this time very
remarkable.

She never possessed anything like the same
capacity for locomotion, or for anything which might
be termed " knocking about," and journeys and long
expeditions, functions of any kind, soon tired out
the energies which were equal to long, unbroken
hours of literary work, and this fact no doubt was
among the reasons why she had so quiet and un-
broken a life during her later years.

This division of life ended with a most happy
visit to the Miss Pattesons at Weston St. Mary
Church, on the occasion of the Consecration of All
Saints Church, Babbacombe, chiefly built by these
ladies. There was a great gathering of ecclesiastical
magnates, of whom the " Primate," Bishop Selwyn
of New Zealand, was the most interesting to
Charlotte.

Torquay was then much in the front of the Church
movement. St. Luke's, under the Rev. George

228 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Harris, was a centre of Church life, and Charlotte
always entertained a vivid affection for the place as
she knew it then. Nor did she ever enjoy any-
thing more than the conversation of intellectual
Churchmen. With them she felt sure of her ground,
and she thoroughly entered into their views and
aspirations. Where she was not sure of what she
regarded as " safe " foundations she was always shy,
unready, and silent, refusing to enter into dis-
cussions even with those who would feel the most
respectful interest in her point of view.

In the beginning of 1868 Mrs. Yonge's last
illness began, and the closest companionship between
mother and daughter that could, exist was forced
gradually to change its character, and finally was
broken altogether.

Mrs. Yonge suffered from softening of the brain.
There seem to have been symptoms during the
previous year, unrealised, or at any rate un-
acknowledged, by Charlotte ; but with the February
of 1868 a period of much trouble and distress set in.
Charlotte was constitutionally nervous about illness
and had no natural turn for nursing, so that the
trial bore heavily upon her. She devoted herself
to her mother, and her faithful maid, Harriet Spratt,
was the greatest of comforts to her. Friends came
to stay and share the burden — Miss Alice Moberly
in especial, also Miss Peard— until Mrs. Yonge's
death on 28th of September 1868. Of course the
son and daughter at " the other house " were there

vni MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 229

to help, and Charlotte's letters at that time are
perhaps especially full of the charms of her little
nephews and nieces.

When the end came, the dear cousin Anne
Yonge came to help her to settle into her altered
life.

To Miss Dyson

(Opening of All Saints, Babbacombe)

Weston St. Mary Church,
November 4, 1867.

My dear Marianne— To write to you seems matter of necessity,
though time does not seem to be found anywhere in the interval
of church-going and eating. The Consecration day you heard
about, and on the next, after a tolerably quiet day, when we went
to luncheon with Mrs. Scroffs, the dear people came. They had
fraternised with Mr. Wilson by the way, and he came in the fly
with the ladies, while the vigorous Primate walked keeping up
with him all the way, and arriving almost at the same time. He
is all "strength and sweetness," and looks as vigorous as ever,
and as squarely strong ; the only loss is that his eyes are somewhat
less large and bright, and they say they have to a certain degree
grown old. It is rather like the way sailors' eyes are puckered
up by the glare. Mrs. Selwyn looks very bright and joyous, as
well she may, since John has made up his mind to return with
them to be ordained to work in New Zealand. Mrs. Abraham
is thin, but has lost the air of suffering she had when I saw
her last, and we are enjoying everything to the utmost extent.
The religious dissipation is enough to satisfy even you ; the
only difificulty is to choose between bishops, sermons, and meet-
ings, but we stick fast to our Primate whenever we can, and our
meals and walks to and fro are specially delightful. We had
N.Z. at St. Mary Church in the morning, S.O.^ in the
afternoon ; both for S.P.G. and N.Z. in the evening at

1 Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford.

230 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE ch. vm

Babbacombe ; then to-day Mrs. Selwyn, Mr. Wilson and I
are going to hear S.O. address the Sunday School teachers
in the vestry at St. Luke's at 2 o'clock to-day, and at 7.30
we are all going to hear the Primate preach at the St. Luke's
anniversary this evening. As to telling you what we heard, it
is impossible to write it out, as Fanny and Mrs. Edwin Coleridge
and her sister are all shouting together at the other end of
the room. I hope it may all arrange itself by the time we meet
at Testwood. Mamma is very happy, the Bishop so very kind
to her.

S.O. came here after the afternoon church yesterday, but
it was to speak to the Primate, and they were closeted together
all the time, so that we only just shook hands with him. He
looked better than on Friday, and he walked Mr. Wilson about
among the bays at Babbacombe, so that he (R. F. W.) nearly got
no dinner, having gone to the new church in the morning to hear
North Carolina. It was delightful to see Mrs. Selwyn clap her
hands when she heard that S.O. was to preach and say, " There,
George, you really will hear a sermon." It is all so free and easy
and merry that I don't know how to enjoy it enough. I don't
think they know about Natal. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

To see Charlotte so well and so happy is delightful. The
best must be over, but there is Dr. Moberly to come. To see
her doing the honours of the place and the people to Mr. Wilson
is charming. How we look forward to Testwood when we have
been at home a little while to recover ourselves. — P.S. by Mrs.
Yonge.

Note. — The Clever Wmnan of the Family, published in 1865,
should have been noticed here. Some people think it the
cleverest of Miss Yonge's books, but there is a controversial
element in it which, I think, detracts from its charm.

CHAPTER IX
1868

SOLITUDE

Charlotte took up her solitary life with courage
and cheerfulness. The real blow had fallen when
Mrs. Yonge's mind had begun to give way, and
there was much peace in the end of the long anxiety
and in the knowledge that the sufferer was at rest.
There was too, for her, real joy in the thought of
" the store growing in Paradise," and she did not
feel that her friends at Hursley or her parents were
really lost to her. Her delight in her little nephews
and nieces was expressed in almost every letter that
she wrote, and with a mind set free from daily
anxiety, new ideas of work soon presented them-
selves.

During this period of independence she went
about a good deal and paid many visits, and in the
August of 1869 her one trip abroad was made, and
she went with Mr. and Mrs. Julian Yonge to Paris,
and to stay with Mme. Guizot de Witt as recorded
in the accompanying letters.

A terrible blow met her on her return. The

231

232 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

beloved cousin, Anne Yonge, died suddenly during
her absence of some form of brain disease, after
only two days' illness, and Charlotte could have had
no greater loss.

In 1 87 1 a change came in the church and village
life. Mr. Bigg-Wither, who had been for so long
perpetual curate of Otterbourne, and who was so
old and valued a friend, retired, and the Rev.
Walter Elgee was appointed instead.

Charlotte felt the change very much beforehand.
She was afraid, she said, " of taking too much on
herself with a clergyman's wife," and she never
liked novelty. But, allowing for the loss of an old
friend's close neighbourhood — she wrote to Mr.
Bigg- Wither every Sunday all through his life — the
change brought many improvements, and Charlotte's
own ideas and practices were able to expand in
accordance with those of the school to which she
belonged, without a sense of disloyalty to the home
authorities. The teaching of Otterbourne Church
was always, I think, continuous, but its practice had
been very old-fashioned, and it was no doubt time
for little developments, which were always indeed
moderate in character, and rather behind than before
what may be described as the ecclesiastical "fashion,"

The Pillars of the House came into being at this
time, and I think Charlotte always regarded it as
her fullest form of self-expression. The characters
were very dear to her, and were constantly re-
produced in later stories. It has perhaps hardly

ix SOLITUDE 233

met with less enthusiastic love than the Daisy
Chain and the Heir of Redely ffe, but it does make
its appeal to Churchmanship of a more special type.
It is extremely long, with an immense number of
characters. Those who discussed it with the author,
read it in manuscript, and in the Monthly Packet^
can hardly approach it with any kind of criticism,
but delightful as the Underwoods were to these
young admirers in the seventies, the sentiment and
pathos of the Daisy Chain appears to me simpler
and more universal, and therefore of larger scope, and
the ideal clergyman, the father of the Underwood
family, is nothing like so real or so human a person
as Dr. May. Felix, however, represents exactly the
type of goodness most admired by the author, not
brilliant, but steady, loyal, and thorough, and I
think she liked him the best of all her heroes.

In this first thoroughly independent work she
practically gave her readers to understand what she
thought legitimate as to many of the burning Church
questions of the day, such as fasting and confession.
And here I think, retired as was her own religious
life, she would wish it to be stated that, at rare
but regular intervals, she always continued the
practice of Sacramental Confession, begun under
the guidance of Mr. Keble, though she never
regarded it as of universal obligation, or would ever
have urged it upon young people except under very
special circumstances.

She practised definitely and on purpose many

234 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

self-denials, of which she never spoke, and which
only gradually became obvious to her friends. As
for instance, until the necessities of the trade forced
it on her, she never wrote stories in Lent. It was
a revelation to a careless girl to find that twelve
o'clock was always marked by her as an hour of
prayer, and her love of the daily Matins and Even-
song was so unbroken and so genuine that they
were an integral part of her life. She was never
too busy to go to church, and she always said that
breaking off her occupations for this, and for the
daily teaching in school, kept up the freshness of
her interest, and prevented her energy from flagging.
As she could always take up a sentence or a
discussion exactly where she left it, no doubt in
her case this was true. But her powers in this
respect were unusual, as the following practice will
show. She frequently wrote her letters all at once,
and often a story, a Cameo, and a bit of Scripture
teaching at the same time, writing a page of each,
leaving it to dry, and going on with another. They
were very rarely, if ever, confused together, but it
was a prociess which could only be watched with
awe.

In the period of the Pillars of the House, and of
the works which coincided with it and succeeded
to it, she was in the full vigour of invention and
execution.

SOLITUDE 235

Extract from Letter to Miss Dyson

September 24, 1867.

We had a wonderful visit yesterday from an utterly unknown
little American girl of fourteen or fifteen, who bobbed into the
room, rushed up to me, shook hands, " Miss Yonge, I've come
to thank you for your books, I'm an American." Papa and
mamma were, it appears, seeing the church, and were going
round by Hursley back to Winchester. It was odd to be thanked
by a little bolt upright mite, as if in the name of all the
American Republic, for writing for the Church !

Extract from Letter of Mrs. Yonge in 1867

The good Daisy Chain has paid .;^ii4 this year to the
Melanesian Mission.

To Miss Dyson

{On her Mother's -Death)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 30, 1868.

My dear Marianne — Mr. Wither is at the Hospital to-day or
he would have written to you ; he will write on Saturday. Mean-
time there is only to say that we are quiet and even cheerful,
going to church and walking in the garden and talking over many
things. Julian and Frances all kindness. I shall probably return
to Puslinch with Anne, but there is much to set in order, and
Julian and I are executors together. I shall have the same income
that she had besides my own, and I feel as if all directed me to
go on in the same way here, where the lack of any other lady to
deal with the parish makes me almost necessary, and besides, it
helps Julian.

Harriet is full of keen sorrow. She is to make a visit to her
aunt in Wiltshire when the stress of work is over.

I think I should be here full a month before going, Anne
with me. The present feeling is weight on all, but still peace
and joy. Poor Mrs. Hawkins. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Yonge.

236 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, October 5, 1868.

My dear Marianne — Things have gone on well and quietly ; I
only wonder what I am that I seem to have no breakdown in
me, but cannot help feeling for ever that the " Ephphatha is sung "
when I think of the frowning look with which she would try to
make us understand her, and that struggle to say words of praise,
"glorify" so often coming. You cannot think how her work,
the illuminated " Holy, Holy, Holy," and the " We look not at
the things that are seen but at the things that are not seen,"
shone out at that Communion in the morning. It is so very
gentle and as she wished, and I really did miss her much more
four months ago, when the real response failed me, and I saw her
in the state I knew she hoped not to be in, than now that the
habit of leaning on her has been so long broken. It is as if the
threefold cord of my life had had one strand snapped suddenly
fourteen years ago, but slowly, gently untwisted now. It was
comfortable that no one touched her who did not love her. No
stranger meddled ; Hicks made the coffin, and those who carried
her were our own people, three the same as carried papa, and
two of their sons, one other labourer of Julian's. Frances made
a lovely cross of white camellias and roses, and two wreaths.
Frances spent most of the day up here, so very sweet and sisterly,
and comforted to have won her love these last years.

We took the way we had so often gone together out by the
verandah, Julian and I, Duke and Frances, Anne and John
Poole; Mary Walters, Alice and Robert Moberly and Emily
Awdry also were there, Graham Colborne, George Yonge,
John and Edmund Morshead, and many of our neighbours, and
so many old servants. Mr. Young and Mr. Wither took the
service, Mr. Wither the closest part. When the coffin stood
by the side of the granite it looked quite to belong, and one felt
her at home, and there was an atmosphere of Keble helps in the
books and the sounds.

Then I just saw Alice and Emily, and Frances stayed here
alone to avoid the people at the other house ; we took her home
in the afternoon, and wandered about afterwards with the three
brother-like cousins, chiefly picking up acorns for specimens for

SOLITUDE 237

Duke to take home. Graham went then, but Duke spent the
evening with us, and returned home on Saturday, and John
Poole is only just gone. I had my class here on Sunday and
really do not feel overdone, but as if there was much for me to
do, and the other house is all affection. Helen's feelings chiefly
came out in startings at night, and Frances thought the children
best at home, but they went up later in the day with some
flowers, berries, and moss of their own gathering arranged. The
present plan is for me to return with Anne, spend November at
Puslinch, and the last week Mr. Wither is to make a visit there and
bring me home. I fancy Kate Low will as usual come for Christ-
mas, and after it perhaps we poor remnants may meet at Testwood.
You did not come to the right shop for agreement in your views
for me in " Miss Anne," nor do I agree for sundry reasons.

I St. I think a perpetual stranger worse than loneliness.

2nd. Miss Adams suffices the children.

3rd. There would be no room for a visitor.

4th. It would spoil all comfort in one, if there were. No, I
do not think it would do ; I do not fraternise as easily as you,
and besides, being more locomotive, I can whet my wits against
friends around and make short visits. I think I shall go out
more in the afternoon, and work in the evening when I am
alone, and somehow I do not greatly fear it. I have no scruple
as to retaining horse or carriage. Julian keeps the horse for
the rent of a field which he would feel paying more, and besides,
it does his work. Then the two houses require a close and an
open carriage, so we each keep one and use which we want.

There is a better account of Sir William ; Paget is much more
hopeful about him than Gulley and keeps him in London.

It is sad to have the Wilsons away, but I hope they will be
back in a fortnight. — Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

To Mr. Butler of Wantage

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, St. S. & J., 1868.

My dear Mr. Butler — Thanks. I wish I felt more worthy of
being an Exterior Sister, but I am thankful to be joined to what

238 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

is good, though I do not think you would care to have me if you
knew how I " shrink when hard service must be done," and what
a spoilt child I have been ever since I grew up, very nearly use-
less in anything practical. But I will constantly use the prayer,
and I hope whenever I can come to Wantage that I may be
admitted.

I wish we could have seen you again. The church is the
same still, and has its atmosphere about it, as much I think as
possible. I wish the Wilsons had been there, they bring breaths
of the old times with them, but altogether it was rather like
the Tate and Brady verse that begins

I sigh whene'er my missing thoughts —

When you read your novel, do let it be Nigel Bartram's Ideal,
one of Warne's Companion Library — shilling books — it is by the
little lady who showed us over St. Cross, and I think has a great
deal in it.

Is Emma inclined Goslingwards ? Shall I tell the Senior
Gosling to send her the names and rules ? — Yours affectionately,

C. M. YONGE.

To Miss Dyson

(Tour Abroad, i86g)

Val Richer, August 5.

My dear Marianne — Here we are, after having, I think, done
very well on our journey. We met Miss Martin on board the
steamer. I forget whether I told you that she had begged to
come at the same time for the benefit of our escort, and though
we had rather have been alone, she was very helpful and pleasant.
She is the editor of the Sunday Library, which is the way we
fell in with her. It was rather a nasty passage, 460 people
in the boat, very much in each other's way under the circum-
stances, and Frances and Harriet were both very bad. I never
go beyond being rather unhappy and helpless, and the worst of it
was it was raining hard all the time, and all the umbrellas but
one had imprudently been packed up, so you may suppose how
wet people were. Frances came out terribly wet through, and

SOLITUDE 239

shivering, but some drops of essence of camphor on a lump of
sugar staved off a cold. Of Calais we only saw outlines enough
to make us feel we were in France, and misty rain hindered us
from seeing anything till we came near Amiens, and then we had
to wait about an hour at the station. We found the town was
too far off to go to see the cathedral, so our chief edification
there was the embraces of a priestly seminary breaking up for
the holidays as it seemed, for there were twelve or fourteen priests,
mostly very young, and thirty or more little boys. There was a
great kissing on both cheeks of the priests as they parted, but
most went on with the train, and priests and boys were dropped
here and there by the way. One little fellow had an old peasant
father and mother who came to meet him, and kissed and
smoothed his hair, and walked off in great pride. M. Guizot
says the best scholars at the village schools go to these seminaries
and become either priests or schoolmasters. At each station
stood a woman in blue, with a high-glazed hat over her white
cap, holding up a staff perpendicularly as a signal. It had a
very quaint effect. Moreover, French electric wires don't make
the weird ^olian harp sound that ours do, but go tinkle,
tinkle, like little bells. All the last part of the way was in the
dark. We got to the Hotel d'Angleterre at Rouen at 10 p.m.,
and climbed up an enormous staircase to our tiny rooms, and
oh the noise ! carts, carriages, steam-engines, music, laughing,
talking, chattering, till 2 a.m., and by 5 a man was shouting about
" citoyen " under the window. None of us had any sleep except
from 3 to 5, and by 7 we were all out making our way to the
Cathedral. It was like getting into the middle of a picture of
Prout. The west front had the grandeur one knows, but the
most remarkable feature within struck me as being that there
was a gallery of arches below the triforium, so as to have four
steps up to the roof instead of three. There was Mass going on
in three different places — at an altar outside the choir, at the
Lady Chapel, and in one of the little altars that there were on the
east wall of the recess of every window, but the choir with the
high altar was shut up and looked desolate. The north doorway,
called the Portail du Calende, was very curious ; it has the whole
history of Jacob and Joseph in tiny compartments, an immense

240 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

number of little scenes. We peeped into St. Maclou, a very
splendid old church, but its east end sadly disfigured by the
great gilded shrine, with a huge golden angel descending amid
big golden beams (in both senses of the word). St. Ouen was
certainly the loveliest thing I saw, and every fitting there is in
excellent taste, most dainty Gothic shrine work rising behind the
choir, and the whole with great gracefulness and majesty com-
bined, but I cannot recall the details now, I saw it in so much
haste. We found the Place de la Pucelle, with its curious old
houses, and had not much more than time to get back to the
Quai. It really is very grand there, the broad river with its
ships, the suspension bridge crossing it, the quaint old houses
round, the rows of trees with benches under, and green hills
partly wooded to be seen whether you look up or down the
river, the spire of Notre Dame de Bon Secours rising up most
beautifully. I wish we could have had a day there only, not a
night. Into the train again, with a little boy about nine and his
bonne. He was very loth to leave his mamma, and kissed and
clung to her to the last moment, and then was in very high spirits
all the rest of the way. It was very beautiful. All along were
hills of chalk, partly wooded, and here and there broken quite
into crags and cliffs, while pinnacles of chalk stood out on the
very edge of the stream like the Needles come inland. They
were the Rochers (I think) d'Obteimer, but I must learn the
name. I was sorry when we tunnelled through them, but it was
still very pretty ; the railroad seemed to go through the centre
of a valley, with low ridgy hills sloping down into water,
meadows, or harvest-fields. Sometimes a perfect sea of ruddy
corn, and the cottages were beautiful, black-timbered and white-
washed between, and their high-pitched roofs make their shapes
so pretty. The apple and pear trees often stood out quite in
the midst of the corn, and the flax was done up in tiny little
fan-shaped shocks, looking like a fairy's harvest. On a hill side
we saw an old tower, which had been part of the Abbey of Bee,
and amazed me, for I had always fanced it by a riverside in a
forest. The river Reel, however, runs through green meadows,
and all that part put me in mind of Stroud as we came into
Lisieux, and saw the fields below the wooded hills covered with

SOLITUDE 241

bleaching linen, and those houses standing perched about. At
Lisieux carriage and cart met us, and we drove out here, all
getting shyer and shyer every minute, till we came in by the great
white gates, and the whole family turned out at the door to welcome
us. M. Guizot looks smaller and much more wiry, active, and
alert than in the photo, with his bright eyes and courteous eager
manner. Between English and French I can get on very well
with him, and Mme. de Witt talks English perfectly, and so do her
girls. Julian's French is a more serviceable article than mine,
which is lucky, as M. de Witt speaks no English though he under-
stands it, but he is much given to la mecaniqice, and so they
get on together. This is a regular French bedroom, like a little
drawing-room, the bed in an alcove, and all the washing in two
little closets. We get a roll and cup of tea or coffee at eight, and
come into public at eleven to prayers and breakfast. It is now a
little after ten, and I shall finish up my letter before I go down,
as I do not know when the post goes. They are very kind, and
it is very pleasant. I really enjoyed yesterday evening very
much, and it will be sure to improve with greater familiarity with
the ways of the place and the language. The garden is beauti-
ful, on very broken ground, and a great glow of geraniums and
roses. We are just too late for the distribution of prizes at the
village school, for which I am sorry, harvest holidays having set
in. If you can read this letter in its streaky criss-cross, send it on
to Gertrude Walter at Otterbourne, and she may please send it to
Miss Mackenzie, Woodfield, Havant.

We encountered Mr. and Mrs, Mackenzie at the Charing
Cross Station, to my great pleasure. Alas ! it is raining. I will
describe more to-morrow. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Y.

Val Richer, August 6.

My dear Marianne — The day went in this way yesterday —
towards eleven o'clock there was a bell, and we all went down
and wandered in the garden till everybody was assembled, then
we went to M. Guizot's study and had prayers, he reading a

R

242 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

chapter of St. Matthew, and Mme. de Witt making a short prayer
of it, ending with the Lord's Prayer. Then came the post and
breakfast, upon rissoles, fried potatoes, fruit and vin ordinaire,
with a tiny cup of tea or coffee at the end, after which we had
a walk in the wood, came back and sat under the catalpa tree at
work till four, which is the time for the goiiter, a funny little
luncheon on marinated anchovy, bread, fruit and the like, another
walk, and we all went into our rooms till seven o'clock dinner,
and when we went into the drawing-room M. Guizot read us a
French play, which lasted till tea-time, and then came bed.

It is very beautiful country in a quiet way ; the hills are low
but steep, with streams at the bottom, and the copses which are
cut once in eighteen years are much like our own. The farm is
almost all grass land, and there is a good deal of very pretty park-
like ground near the house, planted by M. Guizot with numerous
fancy pines, etc., which have had time to come to a good handsome
size, and between which are very pretty peeps of the house. The
garden is charming, plenty of turf, and great beds of roses,
geraniums, and gladioli, and a sort of dwarf, late-blowing horse-
chestnut that they call Pavia. N.JB. — Before I forget it, the
Norman name for quiver-grass is Langue de femme ; is it not
delightful ? The house is a long one, part old and part new, of
old whitish stone, three stories, and then a huge high-pitched
roof of dark old red tiles, the walls quite covered with creepers
of all sorts. The entrance is at the end, a great white fanciful
gate, between two pillars overhung with creepers, and each with
a stone seat below, where poor people are often to be seen
waiting to speak to Mme. de Witt, or Marguerite. My window
is at the end of the house, over the hall door, and Julian's
dressing-room is in a continuation of the house almost close to
it, at right angles. Frances' door and mine are close together,^
opening into the long passage, which is filled with books, cases
of minerals, and fine prints. Everything has a history, and one
can hardly move about for looking at the things. Downstairs
there is a small hall, a library, and a drawing-room and dining-
room, all with parquet floors and opening into the garden, and
beautiful things in them, notwithstanding which they look empty.
Language stands thus : Mme. de Witt and Marguerite are perfectly

IX SOLITUDE 243

bi-lingual, M. Guizot and Julian scarcely less so (except that
Julian does not know the French mechanical terms which he
wants particularly). I can always understand what they say to
me, but not what they say to each other, and can blunder on
(rather like Philip Thistlewood^), only I never remember the
gender of a word till I have said it wrong, and when I want to
say anything I care about my French forsakes me altogether.
Frances and M. de Witt understand, but do not commit them-
selves. Here is a little bit of the conversation that interested me
most. It was at breakfast. You must know it is an oval table,
M. Guizot always hands Frances, M. de Witt me, Julian Mme.
de Witt, Pierre, a little cousin who is staying here. Marguerite,
and Jeanne come alone. Then M. Guizot sits in the middle of
the side between Frances and me, with his daughter and Julian
opposite, M. de Witt and Marguerite at one end, Pierre and
Jeanne at the other. " Rome et Geneve," says M. Guizot, indicating
the two pictures at the two ends of the room. " C'est un
contraste," I say, looking at the dome of St. Peter's in opposition
to the lake, to which he rejoins that he keeps La Cordaire and
Calvin's portraits in his room together, and I observe that La
Cordaire does not so perfectly represent Rome as Calvin Geneva,
whereon he branches off to Pfere Hyacinthe and how Rome dares
not molest the great Gallicans that are not ultramontane. It
seems they summoned Pfere Hyacinthe to Rome, and when he
got there no one did or said anything to him but civility, and
they only kept him a few weeks. I asked whether he would
show at the Council, and M. Guizot said he would probably
not be there, being neither bishop nor chief of an order. He
is a friend of M. Guizot's, and so is Monseigneur Dupanloup,
and M. Guizot went on to say that Dr. Manning had been
to see him (G.) lately, he having known him in the old times, also
that Dr. Manning had said he should not take Dr. Newman to the
Council as his companion priest, whereon Monseigneur Dupanloup
asked for him. But M. Guizot said that he heard he was not in
health to go ; I do not know how this is, but Mr. Wilson saw him
about a month ago, and did not say he was unwell. Montalembert

1 In the Chaplct of Pearls.

244 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

has been terribly ill, but is getting better, and has just been able
to dine with his family. M. Guizot is wonderfully alert in every
way ; I should not have thought him more than sixty (he is eighty-
two). He is in the garden at 6.30 every morning, but he has a
sleep in the middle of the day. He is hard at work on the fourth
volume of his Meditations, and on a history of England for his
grand-daughters, and his rest after five hours' work is with an
English novel. His reading is beautiful, not at all an old man's
voice, but clear and fresh, and in the play full of change of tone,
gesture, and spirit. Up a hill he always will give me his arm,
which is to say the least unnecessary. He has Queen Amelie
hanging in the drawing-room between the Queen of Spain and her
sister, so I suppose he is not ashamed of the Spanish marriages.
But the utter absence of political talk is quite curious. He did
give a great eulogium of Pitt, exalting him far above Peel and
Gladstone, though much admiring Peel, but I think that was the
only time Gladstone's name was spoken ; and as to France, the
only time the Government was mentioned was that Mme. de
Witt said Mudie said that under the present he could not send
her boxes to France, they give so much trouble by their regula-
tions. One morning we had a funny debate on the name of the
insect that eats the roots of the grass. I had always thought
hanneton was a gnat, but it turns out to be a cockchafer.
N.B. — Tell Helen that le petit Arthur was as giddy as a chafer,
not a gnat. And sure enough wherever the grass looked dead
there were sure to be half a dozen of the ugly white grubs. It is
very cold, and Julian is rather rheumatic to-day. The Norman
harvest-home and the country walks in Normandy exactly represent
this place. The colony of poachers is to be visited some day
when M. Guizot does not go out, as it is rather far for him.
They are trying to get a Sister to keep school there ; they have
three at the village school, St. Vincent de Paul's, but they are not
missionary enough for such a wild place, so they go to a more
missionary order for them. It is almost time for prayers, so I
shall finish, hoping to go on to-morrow. — Your most affectionate

« C. M. YONGE.

SOLITUDE 245

Val Richer, August 9.
My dear Marianne — My letter yesterday came to an untimely
end in consequence of an invitation to go out and hunt fossils
in a pit half clay, half chalk, near the drain tile factory, with
Julian, Frances, Corn^lis, and the two girls. The fossils are
very good. We got a shark's tooth, some very good bits of
coral, and some nice shells, but of course there was much
disappointment from their habit of crumbling away. There we
poked about till half-past ten, when we repaired to M. Guizot's
study, and he read a sermon on solitude ; next followed breakfast,
in the midst of which M. de Witt had to set out to la concile
municipale, a parish meeting which is always held on a Sunday,
just as people come out of church. The talk fell upon the
Louvre pictures, about which M. Guizot was more eager and
excited than I have seen him about anything, and he sent for
the two volumes of the Mus'ee Royale for us to look at the
completion of the Music Fran^aise which we always have
had. It was one of the curious ways in which things come
round in one's life, that Musee Royale that papa always wished
me to see, to be looking over it, here, when the Wilsons' report
of their (M. Guizot's) liking of Guy was one of the things that
gave him so much pleasure. By the bye, I have been hearing
of M. Ampere crying about Guy, and oddly enough the Young
Stepmother seems to be one of the chief favourites here. Also
the historical spirit of the Chaplet of Pearls is much approved.
Well, just after breakfast arrived a procession of the village
women. It seems that it was the feast of St. Anne, and all
the women of the village have her for their patroness, so on her
day they all go to Mass, and walk about in procession, carrying
a civiere, a thing shaped rather like a big parrot's cage, with three
stages, all covered with white paper, and festooned with different
ruches of blue, pink, and yellow paper, in which were placed two
big sponge-cakes, one from the girls, and one from the women.
They bring a cake to the priest, the lady, and the Maire, only
this year there is no Maire. M. de Witt is likely to be Maire
next year. They were all in Sunday caps, snowy white thick
muslin, extensively frilled, and the little girls with bright bows,
not like the daily night-cap fashion. They came to Mme. de W.

246 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

under the catalpa tree, but were conducted to the library and
each had a glass of wine all round. Late in the day, when
Harriet was walking with the servants, there came on a shower,
and they went into the church where they found the civiere, and
the priest and choir went down the church in procession, but
the people were laughing and talking and taking snufF all the
time. The last Sunday of August is the men's Sunday, and
they come in the same way.

At about two o'clock, the family and the Protestant servants
were had into Mme. de Witt's room, where M. de Witt read
(beginning with au Nom de, etc.) the Commandments and the
91st Psalm and the 17th chapter of St. Matthew; he read a
comment on the latter, and said a prayer, after which the
services of the day were over. After goMer Miss Martin and
I started off for a long walk, which was chiefly remarkable for
our being caught in the rain, when we stood under an apple-
tree till the rain came through, when we turned home, but the
rain stopping we went on up a hill, with an old bull behind the
hedge growling at us all the way. It was a good thick hedge,
but as Cornelis says, "the bulls here are not good, and the
farmer who keeps him has been gored twice." So we were not
quite easy in our minds, and were glad to be past him. There
was an old man having his hair cut in front of his house, but
the roads here are very little frequented, though very good. I
think we did not meet six people in our four-mile walk ! We
only came home just in time for dressing, and as I was coming
out of my room to join Frances I encountered M. Guizot, who
gave me his arm downstairs, telling me he had been reading
my Miss Edgeworth article in Macmillan, and that he had seen
her and her father. He said Mr. Edgeworth was very dull (I
wonder if his French was as deficient as mine) and he thought
him a great tyrant to his daughter. I do not remember much
that was remarkable at dinner, except a story of an Englishman's
horror at iinding seventeen foxes hung up in a tree. "Quel
sacrilege," he is reported to have said, and little foxes seem to
be bought here to be turned out in England. There are two
wild boars still existing in a forest in Normandy. After
dinner M. de Witt brought us a collection of photographs

SOLITUDE 247

from Ary Scheffer whom they knew well and were very fond
of. M. Guizot calls him the painter of the soul, and
on the whole, I came from the photos with the impression that
he did women beautifully, but seldom succeeded in men, except
in one magnificent " St. John writing the Apocalypse," which I
longed to show Mrs. Keble, it gives one a perfect thrill of awe.
Miss Martin and I had a little sigh that it is not in the Sunday
Library (she dislikes the pictures there extremely). I hope to
bring one home. There is also a very fine likeness of his
mother (which Bishop Forbes once told me was his best). The
photo from the picture of St. Augustine is infinitely more beautiful
and suggestive than the print. St. Monica seems to be melting
into the heavenly atmosphere beyond. Afterwards there was
music, a cantigua of Beethoven that the girls, their father and
cousins sang was most beautiful, but the clear ringing way in
which Marguerite and Jeanne throw out their voices strikes one
as quite new, less sweet but more clear than English singing.
Mme. de Witt does not play or sing. Altogether it is very
pleasant here, and gets pleasanter every day, so that I think
we shall be sorry to go away. Julian likes M. de Witt and the
boys very much ; I never saw a more complete gentleman than
M. de Witt, and I think they are good to the back-bone. (If
only they had a church ! M. Guizot says he should belong to
ours if he were English.) Their testimony to the Soeurs who
keep school here would charm Mr. Butler. They have three
together, but they keep a night-school in the winter as well as
the day one, but they get overworked, and by the end of the
year the head sister takes to fainting away. They have £16 a
year apiece, and are always trying to save out of it for the
Mother-house. So wise and good Mme. de Witt says she has
found them in difficult cases.

Val Richer was a monastery, and this was the Abbot's house,
but all the old buildings have long been made away with — before
their time, I believe.

Another interesting thing I heard was about the intelligence
of the Bordeaux people, and the vivid way they realise the
Black Prince still. It is almost breakfast time, so I close up. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

248 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Val Richer, August lo.

My dear Marianne — ^Yesterday was so rainy that there really
is very little to say about it. The breakfast was enlivened by
our being told that Madame Adelaide always had a set of bon-
bons placed beside the seat of each member of her brother's
cabinet whenever they met, and that they were of a superior
quality or not according as to whether she liked the ministry or
not. M. Guizot said he had the experience of both, for at first
she was very fond of him, and then they were very good, but
when she liked him less the bonbons deteriorated. He said she
was la femme la plus passionnee in her loves and hates that he
had ever known, and he went on to Queen Marie Amelie, whom
I think he loved very much, but he said the king had told him
that the way he came to marry her was that in the midst of his
exile, when he was in Sicily, Queen Caroline came and said to
him, " You are a remarkable man. You will do something great
You will marry my daughter. Oui, oui, oui, vous serez Roi de
France." It certainly was a curious divination, and a good
speculation, but I don't think that taking her in that way he
deserved to get so good a wife. She, the Queen, used to say
that she herself and her niece of Tuscany were the only ones of
her family who were good for anything. Queen Caroline taught
her husband to read, and he used to say when he was angry with
her that if she had not done that he would have cut off her head.
Then of course we came to Lord Nelson, and some one (English
I think) who told M. Guizot, " He was a hero, but he was an
idiot," the which I believe. I was comparing his bust with the
Duke's in the Taylor buildings at Oxford, and saying how
disappointing it was, but Frances Peard did not agree with me.
I do not think he had any countenance. After breakfast Julian
discovered a book on the turning lathe, which he has wished to
see all his life. " Mr. Yonge does not read that book, he does
study it," they say. Frances worked and played at loto in the
drawing-room with the girls, and Mme. de Witt and I worked at
the index till the arrival of Mme. Cornelis de W. and Marie, who
is eighteen, and a bright talking girl, devoted to little Suzanne.
Miss Martin and I got an hour's walk between the showers, in

SOLITUDE 249

which we saw nothing remarkable but a little frog so green that
we took him for a grasshopper, and then we came back to a
merry dinner, when, in honour of Mme. Cornelis, we each had a
glass of champagne, and M. Guizot made every one drink it at the
same moment, i la sante de Suzanne, whose mamma put her
hand over her mouth to stop her from shouting her own health.
Music in the evening, and Marie and Cornelis set upon me about
my stories in a very comical way, Norman being Corn^lis's
favourite. Mme. Cornelis is younger than her sister, but looks
older and more worn, and much less clear and fresh. Her
husband is deputt for this district, and in a Government office
for Algeria ; he is junior and is secure of no holidays at all, but
works from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. He hoped to come down at 12
last night, but was obliged to send a telegram to say he could
not. She is taking her children to Buzenval, a little bathing
place, and Marguerite and Jeanne too. They will all go off
early to-morrow morning, and a great loss they will be. We go
at 12.30 on Friday, and so any one who writes had better direct
Hotel de Castiglione, 1 2 Rue de Castiglione, Paris. We tried to
find the parish church yesterday, but it was all in the midst of
fields, we were afterwards told, with no way to it. There were no
roads at all up to this place when M. Guizot bought it, and he came
to it riding. It is dry this morning, but quite cold and windy ; in-
deed, we have done what M. Guizot calls bruler un fagot both the
last two evenings. Frances is out playing at croquet, and a brass
band is performing before the front door ; I have just seen Pierre
rush out with their pay. I am very much in love with those
young people, Cornelis and Marguerite are particularly engaging.
I am writing to Puslinch, so I shall cut you off short this morning.
The post comes at 11, and we are hoping for home news. — Your
most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Val Richer, August 11.

My dear Marianne — The occupation of yesterday was a drive
to Cambermer, the bourg, a large village of the district, the name
of which is on M. de Witt's carts. It is about as large as
Hursley apparently, and has a church with a good old Norman

250 CHARLOTTE M. YONCE c.a,.,

tower, but the body horridly bad modern. However, it was tlic
girls' school that we went to see, it being tin; only one not yet
broken up for the holidays.

There were two rooms, each with a Sceur presidinj; over it
from a raised desk, and about thirty girls at fixed desks, those of
the first class forming little boxes, where they kept their pro-
perties. There were five de.sks, and about six girls at each,
sitting far apart. Three great windows on each side, the upper
parts open, and no stuffiness. Nothing in the room but over the
Sister's seat, quite at the top a crucifix, and on either side St.
Mary and St. Joseph, white statues with little crowns of arti-
ficial flowers. At the other end a map of France and a pictorial
table of weights and measures, i.e. pictures of all the money, and
of all the pots of so many litres, and great and little weights of
all the grains, and lengths of all the metres of any reasonable
length. The children were in all kinds of dresses, some in the
regular frilly white cap, some in black ca[)S, and some in nets like
our own, and some very pretty and intelligent-looking. The
Sister was a nice, portly, merry, rosy body ; we came in for srmie
reading, the girls all sitting in their places, and she calling out
proraiscuou.sly to Anna or Anais to go on. The book was an
instruction on good manners for a jeune personne, which did not
seem much to concern them, as it was all about goinj; from the
salon to the salk a manger, and there was a dreadful example of
a jeune personne who neglected to se nettoyer la houche, and in
consequence was detected in a falsehood about eating salad and
thus lost un bon tlablissement. Miss Martin and I thought it touched
us, as this is the one bit of French manners we cannot away with !
Then the girls showed us their writing, which was very neat, but
I forgot to ask after the sums ; all those I saw on the slate were
simple addition. The work was very neat, and when they asked
after our marking I was glad to have a beautiful bit on my
handkerchief, but this school is supjiosed to be far too much
addicted to fancy work and wax flowers, which are needed for
the churches, but do not train the girls usefully. There was a
much younger, sallower sister in charge of the little ones, looking
as if she carne from a lower grade. There are 600 of these
sisters belonging to the mother house at Lisieux, and another

SOLITUDE 251

600 to that at Rouen. They are mostly small tradesmen's
daughters, almost every family has one daughter a sister, and
they are much loved, and have a great deal of influence, but the
doctors quarrel with them because they go on prescribing for the
poor beyond their knowledge. Parish doctors do not exist here,
and herbalism is as much the fashion as ever ; Mme. de Witt
knows what every plant is good for, and the girls distil like people
in old castles. I found some chlora perfoliata yesterday and a
yellow kind of vetch I did not know ; also there were some lovely
pink mallows, but whether they were musk mallows or not I was
not sure, as I could not get one. Soon after we came home one
of the farm waggons came to be packed for Buzenval. There is
very little furniture in these seaside lodgings, and for the six
children and two nieces, besides servants, it was a grand pack,
and we all stood about or put out our heads at the windows,
making fun, the boys dancing in impossible places. A piano,
two beds, a sofa, an arm-chair, lots of boxes, etc., etc., looked
unmanageable, till M. de Witt got into the cart and made every-
thing fit. The place is seven leagues off, and the farm horses
took it at earliest daylight.

Of the conversation yesterday, the chief things I remember are
that M. Guizot knew Madame Mongolfier, the widow of the
balloon man, when she was 100 years old. She was put into a
convent at Avignon by force, long before the Revolution, to
hinder her from marrying Mongolfier, and made to take the vows,
but by some means or other she got a letter to the Pope, com-
plaining of the means used, and he sent a commission which
found it was all true, and the Pope released her from her vows.
Another touch of interest was hearing that Marshal Gouvion de
St. Cyr said that there were two kinds of good soldiers ; le solda
vertueux was best of all, and next best the thorough scamp. It
just agrees with what we used to hear in the 52nd. I was sur-
prised to find that his soldier friends esteem the infantry of the
line more than any other branch, even the engineers and
artillery. It came out as being recommended to Cornelis —
the English infantry they all call the best in the world for a
battle, but not for endurance of hardships. The Russians seem
to have been more alarmed by the individual intelligence of the

252 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Zouaves than by anything else — the way they could scale a wall in
utter confusion, each man for himself, and then form in perfect
order at the top. When a man is couronnt by the Academic
before he is twenty-one, he is exempt from military service, as
being too good to be food for powder. But at Sebastopol,
Pelissier had to write for more intelligent officers ; he had to
expose them in the trenches, so that he wrote that he had only
enough left to last him a week longer. M. Guizot says he looks
forward to a machine that will kill 50,000 men at once, for then
war will become impossible ! In the evening I looked over
the prints of Lord Vernon's beautiful edition of Dante, and the
young people sung all together le petit capuchin rouge and le
renard et le corbeau ; it was the greatest fun. Alas ! all the
young ones, except Rachel and Susanne, who wait till the others
are settled in, are gone off at seven this morning to Buzenval in
a Lisieux omnibus for a month's sea air. They are a great loss,
especially to Frances. All I can say is that, although I am
very sorry to lose them, I shall have more chance of hearing the
rest, for I never did hear such a noise as there is at dinner. Our
English notion of low speaking being mannerly is evidently un-
known, and no one speaks low but M. de Witt, and yet it all
goes with beautiful, courtly French grace and consideration.
Marguerite is a charming girl, and Cornelis a very engaging
lad. — Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Val Richer, August 12.

My dear Marianne — This last day will be a very quiet one,
for M. de Witt is gone to a horse-fair at Falaise, and Julian,
Frances and Miss Martin are gone with him, starting at eight this
morning, and coming home at eleven at night ; unluckily I could
not go, and Mme. de Witt caught a bad cold yesterday and I fear
will not be good for much to-day. Caen had to be given up
because of all the comings and goings last week, so my Norman
experience is solely of Val Richer, where it seems Thomas a
Becket once came and spent some time, and there used to be an
old man who kept up the tradition of the place where he used to
pray, but the old buildings are all gone now, except some of the

SOLITUDE 253

barns where we went yesterday to see the enormous casks of cider
and of brandy. M. de Witt takes out a license, makes brandy of
cider and sells it, but there is a heavy excise duty, and the poor
people cannot understand at all his not choosing to do it sur-
reptitiously. Such enormous barrels, big enough for twenty men
to get into ; Julian did get into one by the little door, like an
entrance into a cavern. The hay is all stored in lofts and barns,
haystacks being unknown. There is little to tell about the day ;
we took a long pleasant walk in the woods, and had a great hunt
for the green frogs — beautiful fellows, bright grass green with a
yellow line down their backs, and black and gold eyes and
marblings on their legs. They really are the sort that are eaten
in the south, and they hop tremendously. We asked if they had
stag beetles, and it appeared that not only they had and called
them cervalons, but that when M. Guizot was a baby one got hold
of his nose, and had to have its pincers cut off before he could
be released. I had a very interesting talk with Mme. de Witt
about various matters. She had been asked to write for the
International Magazine that is setting up with a view to woman's
rights, in which she is a believer, and we went on to a good many
things. There is very little governessing in France, but if girls
are troublesome they are sent to convents, or if not they get their
education entirely by lectures, hke the Queen's College system.
One girl she knew who was married out of a convent into a very
intellectual family had never read a whole book through in her
life, and for three years her husband kept her continually studying
to be on a level with the rest of his family. M. Guizot, she says,
is all aUve to everything that goes on, except that he lets himself
rest from politics. Indeed we touch the less on our own that
Miss Martin is very radical indeed, so we don't want to fight our
own battles, but one day we had a talk without her about his view
of us, and I got further at his opinions from his daughter, and
they are anything but Gladstonian. It is said that the House of
Lords have raised themselves immensely in Continental estimation
by their behaviour and speeches on the Irish Church matter. I
think some blunder must have befallen our newspapers, for the
Saturday Review is the only one that has arrived, and that M.
Guizot eagerly snapped up, but a scrap from Mr. Wither tells us

254 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

that Anne Collins reports Dr. Moberly to be Bishop of Sarum, so I
am writing to Mrs. M., which brings this letter to an end. I suspect
for the future you will get more hurried ones, with more events.

Our evening amusement was bits from Vitrd's Scenes Historiques
of the Conspiration d^Amboise, where Conde (ist) is made to be
smitten with Mary of Scotland, which M. Guizot says is historical,
and certainly is very likely. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Val Richer, August 13.

My dear Marianne — Here is our last morning here, at least
so I hope, for I ended the day yesterday by a collapse, and instead
of spending the evening with M. Guizot, had to lie on my back in
my room all the evening. However, I am much mended, and
hope to be in thorough repair before we start at 12 o'clock.
Madame de Witt's cold was very bad yesterday and she only came
out at meal times, but I had a walk with the old gentleman and
a very interesting talk, in which you would not have at all agreed
so far as our English affairs went, being that he thinks Lord
Salisbury {N.B. — he was always rather a hero to me) the best
hope of England. About the state of reHgion in France, he says
that there is a great revival among the upper classes — Pbre
Hyacinthe and Montalembert forming round them what he called
a bande d'Uite (?) which he said was sure to be the sign of a great
step in religious influence. The bourgeois are the worst, being
hostile to Christianity, and the peasants are in the old style,
everybody going to mass, and learning the Catechism, but for the
most part with little intelligence, the priests not instructing them
much except in the letter, though with occasional exceptions, such
as the good Cure of St. Roque, who by the way came to call
yesterday morning, looking very spruce and unlike what he was
when dusting his church, and talking over the people like an
English clergyman. The point is the getting the Sister for the
ragged school, but as there is only room and maintenance for
one, the Superiors make a great difificulty about sending one alone,
and M. Guizot has written to the Bishop to beg him to iind him
one. The Bishop of Lisieux is a strict good man, about forty-five,

SOLITUDE 255

with about 1000 clergy under him. Catechisms and fasting-days
vary with the diocese ; this being a strict one, they fast on Fridays
and Saturdays, a fact brought home to us by the garden paths
being strewn with mussel shells. Six sous of mussels will dine
fifteen people. The Norman peasants are perfectly honest and
faithful, but Us n'ont pas de la delicatesse ou la morale. Thanks to
Gertrude for her letter. M. Guizot has a son who lives in the
south of France, and has such a memory that he can repeat any-
thing after once hearing it. Once he took in a poet who had
been reciting a new composition by pretending to have heard it
before, and saying it right off. Also the other daughter married
another de Witt. The two de Witt brothers, Conrad and
Cornelius, were left orphans and brought up by three old aunts,
the last of whom came to live here with them, and was nursed
till she died about a year ago.

The expedition to Falaise seems to have been delightful, but
Frances is very tired and headachy this morning. All I have
gathered is that the castle is perched on a dolomite rock, with
another opposite to it, just like the Round's Nest (a grand rock
rising up like a wall near Puslinch). Also that they saw the
horse-fair, which was of chevaux de luxe that day, the fair having
begun on Sunday. Altogether this visit has been a great enjoy-
ment, and memorable in many ways.

I hope to write to-morrow and tell you how we get to Paris. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Hotel Castiglione,
12 Rue Castiglione, August 14.

My dear Marianne — We broke up from Val Richer with
many regrets. The Falaise expedition had turned out very well ;
they had a splendid scramble upon a magnificent steep rock, with
a deep ravine between it, and such another rock, and the castle
in tall, round towers, one of which they climbed up to the top,
and were very stiff all day after it, and the roof was covered with
zinc, sloping down all round, and no guard round it, which made
me thankful that I was not there. They were shown the window
where Robert of Normandy was said to have seen Arlette, and

256 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

the room where William the Conqueror was born, which is turned
into a sort of office for the builders, who are restoring the castle.
Also they saw the grand view from the top of the tower, grey ups
and downs to a vast extent, giving the idea of the sea, though
there is really no sea to be seen from it. The most diverting
part of the fair was over, but they saw a great many fine horses,
and were very much amused by a story M. de Witt told them of
the way in which it came to pass that the citizens of Falaise have
or had always to carry about a light with them at night. " Quand
on venait k la garde — ' Qui va la ? ' ' Bon bourgeois de
Falaise.' ' Oil est ta lanterne ? ' 'On n'a pas dit.' ' On va
t'en dire.' Et la nuit prochaine quand on rencontrait la garde —
' Qui va Ik ? ' ' Bon bourgeois de Falaise.' ' Oil est ta lanterne ? '
' A la main.' ' EUe n'a pas de chandelle.' ' On n'a pas dit.*
' On va t'en dire.' Et la nuit prochaine quand on rencontrait
la garde — ' Qui va Ik ? ' ' Bon bourgeois de Falaise.' ' Oti est
ta lanterne?" 'A la main.' 'Oh est la chandelle.' 'A la
lanterne.' ' N'a pas fuse ou bout.' ' On n'a pas dit' ' On
va t'en dire.' Et voila I'histoire de la lanterne du bon bourgeois
de Falaise." So it is written down from Julian's dictation after
hearing it from M. de Witt. We started at 12.15 yesterday,
drove to Lisieux, and there had our railway carriage to ourselves
all the way, a glimpse from the train at an old tower and fine
church at Conches, the beautiful cathedral at Evreux, and the
church at Mantes, which does not look quite as it did when
WiUiam the Conqueror's horse danced upon its ruins. I have
seen only a tower or two that looked to me like Norman archi-
tecture, it has all been very pointed, but Julian saw a beautiful
Norman doorway at Falaise. After Mantes we came among vine-
yards, the vines trained about as high as raspberry bushes, and
all the grapes growing down at the bottom of them. It was
copsy country, with low hills, and at Confleurs a great deal of
wood, where I believe the Emperor hunts. An omnibus belong-
ing to the hotel met us at the station, and here we are very com-
fortably lodged in a regular suite of rooms, and a street with
about as much noise as a moderate London one. The ia&le
d!hdte was at 6, and we were in time for it, though late ; there
were a merry Irish lady and gentleman there, who seem to make

IX SOLITUDE 257

this their abode at present. Afterwards we took a turn under the
arcades that run all along this street and a great deal farther on,
opposite the Tuilleries gardens, but it was raining a little and we
could not go much beyond them, and we only looked in at the
shop windows. M. Guizot has given us a letter to the prefect of
police to give us orders to see everything that we want.
We are just going out. — Your most affectionate

C. M. Y0NGE.1

To Miss Yonge of Puslinch

(On Anne's Deatli)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 5, 1869.

My dearest Mary — Thank you so much for that kind letter,
and for your message this morning. But I do find that I am not
fit to come, I am so much knocked up to-day, having before not
quite recovered the effects of hot journeys and strange food.
And I would not give you the care and trouble of a breakdown
just now.

How are you all passing through this Sunday ; I seem to
have seen Newton Church more than our own all this time ; this
is a Sunday I have so often been there, and the hymns are her
choosing and the same. And her hand was the first on our
harmonium, and her voice the first in the new beginning of our
choir. And now, oh ! surely she is among those that follow the
Lamb whithersoever He goeth. It is all so like —

Comes rushing o'er a sudden thought

Of her who led the strain,

How oft such music home she brought.

But it is a blessed thing for the rest of our lives that it is in
our times of praise that we shall meet her above all.

1 After reading these delightful descriptions of foreign life, one cannot but
regret that Charlotte never had another glimpse of it. Perhaps the sad news
which met her return and evoked the next letter, helped on her dislike lo be
absent from home.

S

258 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Some day when you can, you or Charlotte will tell me how
you have gone through this Sunday, and whether Duke had any
help. I am thinking John Morshead may be able to come. —
Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, Septeviber ii, 1869.

My dear Mary — My thoughts have verily been with you,
waking and going to bed, and at that twelve o'clock, when I could
see the place and almost hear the bell and think of you all. It
is a great comfort to hear of Uncle Yonge's peace and brave
resignation, and to read his letters so thoroughly himself in all
ways. I am always thinking of those words over James's and
Charles's tablet, and how blessed and beautiful a thing it is for us
to see even here below what it is to be trained by great tribu-
lation. I believe it was a more than commonly close link that
united our dear Anne and me, though I always knew that as one
of several sisters she never could need me as much as I needed
her, and I was wont to turn to the knowledge of her feeling and
opinion many a time when nothing passed between us, being
sure that one day I should be with her and talk, after the time
began when writing letters was an effort to her. How much the
recollection of those ways and thoughts of hers should be with
me, and guide me still, having lived with them for more than
half a life-time, and written to one another ever since babyhood.
The last I had from her was a note before I went away, the
greeting return which you say she intended was not written. I
am quite well again, thank you, it was only Sunday and Monday
that I was out of order. It is always being brought before me
that there are sorrows far more dreadful.

Little Helen has been very nice and good and anxious to
save me trouble; I think she will always remember. She has
grown much wiser in many ways than when you saw her; I
think my Frances is really well and strong now.

I shall not see Ernest ^ for some time, as I think the extra

' Anne's godson, Ernest Morshead.

SOLITUDE 259

week covers St. Matthew's day. To him the loss must be
most great, there was such a love between them. — Your most
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

To Miss Dyson

{On Sir J. Coleridge's "Life of Keble")

RowNHAMS, February 11, 1869.

My dear Marianne — Here I am in the heat of the weather,
with a copse before my eyes where the " grey blossoms twinkle "
more like " a bright veering cloud " than I ever saw anything do
before, but they are the silver buttons on the withies. Maria
had a talk with Mr. Siddon, who expressed the most unqualified
delighted approval of the book, but in general I think people
regret that it is more the history of a friendship than a life, and
think there is too much about the Judge himself. It is odd to
see how the remark comes in from so many quarters, but I think
there is a strong Coleridge personality that must show itself in
whatever any Coleridge does. The other regret is that more
letters to other people were not given as showing more the
breadth and scope of the nature.

(Opening of Keble College^

Wantage, yime 7.

My dear Marianne — We have had a very successful time, so
successful that I have had no time for letter-writing or anything
else, but I have been most enjoying myself. I did just shake
hands with Dr. Pusey, in his red doctor's gown, and moreover
heard him speak about the Palestine — no, the Sinai exploration.

<^th. — There, I wrote on Monday, and not a bit of time have I
had to write since, but I am enjoying all things. I think the
eager life here just suits me, from the wonderful unflagging feeling
about it. It is so much the sparkling, hurrying stream.

I know it is a delusion to hope to make this letter longer, so
I shall not try. — Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

26o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

(Enthronisatton of Bishop Wilberforce)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, December 16.

My dear Marianne — Well, we have our Bishop, and I feel
we really have. I never saw a Bishop in our throne, and I
never saw the Cathedral like what it was to-day. I really think
some parts of the day were among the best delights of my life.
To see that dear old Cathedral which in some respects is one
of the things I love above all, doing as it ought to do, and
ringing from everywhere with its voice, and overflowing with
white robes, was something precious and delightful beyond all.

That whole space where the boys sit was one mass of clergy,
and the effect was beautiful, the flow of the stoles and the hoods
was so graceful. But that was not the best, the swell of voices
in the Psalms gathering up the notes from the choir was so
wonderful, and at the end the Hallelujah Chorus, sung by all
who could sing, was magnificent. The anthem was that piece
of St. Peter that ends with the grass withereth, etc. At first
it rather startled me, till I thought of St. Swithin and William
of Wykeham, and Beaufort and Fox and Andrews, and all
coming and being enthroned and passing away, and the Te
Deum and Creed and Psalms and all the rest keeping the same.
There was no sermon, indeed the service lasted from 11.30
till 2. I was very well off for seeing — in that seat where I
think I took you last time we went together, just opposite the
throne, but certainly ecclesiastical functions take a good deal
out of one, I have not been so tired I don't know when.
Happily this fierce rain did not come on till the procession to
St. Lawrence was over. The old Dean did everything, and
was at the Mayor's dejeuner when 1 came away from the
Deanery. I just shook hands with the Bishop.

SOLITUDE 261

To Miss Dyson

{On the Death of the Rev. George Harris.,
Vicar of St. Luke's, Torquay)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, May 7, 1874.

My dear Marianne — You will like to see poor Aunt Jane's
(Mrs. Harris) letter about dear George,^ who has done more in
his thirty-seven years than most people in twice the time. There
must be a most fearful blank at St. Luke's. Only think of his
having led to the building of three churches, with most energetic
constant services. I hope those two little children will grow up
worthy of him. What does Miss Poole say of M. Guizot ? We
hear by side winds that what has really broken him down was
the finding that his son had allowed the Emperor to pay his
debts ; he tried to return the money, but the executors could not
take it, and now he is said to be in a lethargic state. I thought,
the last note I had from Mme. de Witt was a very unhappy one ;
she said "il a trop souffert," and hoped he would be better when
she got him into the country. No time for more. — Your most
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

{On the Death of Mr. Gibbs of Tyntesfield)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, April 6, 1875.

My dear Marianne — I heard this morning that good old Mr.
Gibbs is gone — on Friday night — his flowers fresh in our church.
We had a very successful day, and no doubt Amelia ^ has told
you about it, the Confirmation afterwards, thirty-five of our
children, the girls led off by Helen, Amy, and Gerty and six of
the school-girls with such sweet solemn faces, and a Cranbury
man who had been baptized on Easter Sunday. Afterwards
fifty-four mothers had tea in the school, and Mr. Ashwell made

1 The Rev. Prebendary Harris, first Vicar of St. Luke's, Torquay, son of
K ev. Dr. Harris. Miss Yonge wrote a short memoir of him of much interest.

2 Miss Amelie Leroy, best known as Esme Stuart.

264 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap, ix

Is it conceivable that a woman like Miss Yonge should
write in this humble way to a quite ordinary person ? And yet
it was not aped humility, it was because it was to her clergyman's
wife she was writing, and the wife knew, and understood and
honoured her for it.

When I started the idea of having a May Queen, no one
could be more interested and delighted than dear Miss Yonge,
and great were the discussions as to who should be chosen,
both of us trying hard not to be influenced too much by good
looks. She certainly loved her school-children, and when my
dear husband died and I came to live in Winchester, she used
frequently to write to me about them, because she knew that
I loved them too in a different way. Children were not afraid
of her, as many grown-up people were ; my own children were
perfectly at their ease with her, and one adventurous spirit
used to write stories (very ill-spelt) and send them to Miss
Yonge, when an unfailing reply came, generally the same
evening, telling some other story in return. Her nature was
reserved and shy ; it was rarely that she " got on " with
strangers, though sometimes, to please me, she would come to
meet some one who particularly desired to know her. Although
it was public, there was one occasion when she really did
enjoy herself, and that was at the meeting at the High School,
Winchester, when the Bishop and other distinguished people
were on the platform, and a vote of thanks was given her for
founding the " Charlotte Yonge Scholarship."

Interesting speeches were made, and tableaux were afterwards
acted illustrating Miss Yonge's books. The room was crowded
with happy girls and others, who clapped and applauded to
their hearts' content. The whole ceremony was of a most
enthusiastic character, ending with the presentation of a beautiful
and artistic basket of daisies emblematic of the Daisy Chain.
With this basket in her hands, and looking very delighted, she
drove back to Otterbourne, and that is the time I like to
remember her best, surrounded by friends and admirers and
with a happy smile on her face.

CHAPTER X

MISSIONARY INTERESTS

In August 1 87 1 Bishop Coleridge Patteson of
Melanesia was put to death by the islanders, in
mistake for the wicked traders, who, when they
sailed among the islands on slave-taking errands,
had been in the habit of dressing up a figure like
the loved and trusted Bishop, to induce their victims
to come on board their ships. The Bishop's sisters,
Joan and Fanny Patteson, invited Charlotte to
undertake the task of writing his life, into which
she threw herself with great enthusiasm.

Her own letters tell all that it is necessary to
know about the projection and course of the work ;
but it seems as if this was the place to speak more
fully of that side of her life which was devoted to
the work of missions. I hardly think it would be
too much to say that her greatest enthusiasm was
for the spread of the Christian Church in heathen
lands, and her feeling about it was so unlike the
usual and conventional one that it will be well to
put it fully forward.

Missionary enterprise was to her a splendid

265

266 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

romance, a crusade in which subjects were won
to Christendom as well as souls to Christ. She
could not imagine dulness in connection with it.
Missionary travels were full of adventure and
missionary achievements of glory. It is known
that all the profits of the Daisy Chain and part of
those of the Heir of Redclyffe were devoted to
the cause, but she gave a great deal more to it
in money than can now be traced, and far more
in time and in prayers than any one can ever
realise.

It was not to the credit of High Church people
that mission work had seemed to belong greatly
to Nonconformist and partly to the Evangelical
side of Church teaching. Charlotte did a great
deal, we must say, to popularise — though she
would have disliked the word — the mission cause
in the Church of England. She was in a very
true sense a champion of Christendom. The
feeling shines out in her writings from first to
last, and is well shown by the following extract
from a little tale called New Ground about mission
work in South Africa, which she contributed to
xh.^ Magazine for the Young in 1863. Two sisters
are talking together.

" It is the work I know, Agnes, it is the work that you long
for. I have not forgotten how you and I used to lie awake
together in the summer evenings and scheme how we would go
out and help to teach the natives. And how we talked of our
first church that was to be built of bamboos with plantain leaves
over it."

MISSIONARY INTERESTS 267

" Yes," said Agnes, " and how we loved to read the Mission
reports that told how useful women could be in teaching the little
children, and showing the women how to be civilised."

" And oh ! the heartache of looking at one of the great maps
of the world, where the spread of diiferent rehgions is marked,
and seeing the great dark cloudy region all heathen ! "

" Yes, but then to remember ' The earth shall be filled with
the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the
sea.' What a comfort that is ! "

" Then the thrill of remembering that the actual work is doing
in our day, and by persons like ourselves ; and to imagine that
in time we might be one of those persons ! " — New Ground,
chap. ii. (1863).

These words may be taken as showing the
feelings of one whose creations were truly exten-
sions of herself. It never wavered or cooled, and
therefore it may be imagined with what pleasure
she accepted the task of writing the life of her
kinsman, the martyr bishop.

" What a mixture of crush and triumph the
thought of dear Coley is ! " she wrote when the
news of his murder came.

A great many letters written to his family
while the work was going on have been preserved,
asking for information and reporting progress, but
those relating to the actual proposal seem to
have perished. The choice by the sisters of a
biographer did not meet with universal approval.
Some of the friends and relations, the Bishop's
uncle. Sir John T. Coleridge, among others, seem
to have thought that the work ought to have been

268 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

undertaken by a man. However this may be, it
seemed to many others that the hand of one able
to conceive and reproduce character did set forward
a vivid personaHty, and the honour and joy of
missionary enterprise was never more fully realised.
She wrote as she felt. She was not alone in
feeling that sharing in the tie of kindred to such a
hero of the Church's Empire was a joy and an
honour in itself

To Miss Frances Patteson

December 8.

My dearest Fanny — Somehow I did not feel as if I could
write to you before I heard from May how you and Joan were,
and till I had in a measure realised the crush to one's feelings
on the one side, and the glorious crown upon the other.

There was something in the set-apart life, and the freedom
from all our common heats and strifes and turmoils that seemed
to remove him into the world where such things are. You know
I had only twice seen him, once at our stay at Feniton, and once
when he dined at Deerpark from Alfington, and so he has always
seemed to me like the saintliness one believes in and gives
thanks for. I don't mean that knowing him more intimately at
home would have made this less, I believe it would more, but it
would have been more mixed up with common life. I can only
think of

His spirit calmed the storm to meet,

Feeling the Rock beneath his feet,

And tracing through the cloud the eternal cause.

Such a life does seem truly to meet its appropriate close in
that witness which above all wins the white robe and crown and
palm. How little we thought who next after Archbishop Darboy
was to be the martyred Bishop. It cannot be but that you
personally both of you feel the present light of joy and interest
gone out of your lives, but how perfect the radiance when you
look up ! I think if prayers — as of course they do — do cause

X MISSIONARY INTERESTS 269

comfort, much must be wafted to you and Joan, so many must
be praying for you.

The Mission Field went at me to do a short notice, and as I
knew I could not do it for that, I wrote (to get off) one that I
could do from my heart of those vague In Memoriam things for
the Literary Churchman. Things ought not to be done when all
is so fresh, but people will crave, and will ask, and one gives into
them. I hope you will not dislike anything in this paper, at
least it came from my heart. With much fove to Joan. — Your
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

To Miss Dyson

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, December 30.

My dear Marianne — I have had a beautiful letter from Lady
Martin, which I think you must see as well as Mrs. Moberly's
equally beautiful comment on it. The palm and the white
garment and the crystal sea seem to come like music back in
answer to the " Who knows " in the Lyra Innocentium ! I have
been living in it a great deal with the Wilsons who were at the
Park, their hearts full of it. The Bishop of Lichfield has written
me the kindest of notes to ask me there to look at their letters,
and talk over the life, and I have offered myself for Monday the
6th, although I cannot stay over a Sunday in the change of
school-mistresses. I think a week now may do more than a
longer time when he has less leisure. Would Miss Palmer be so
kind as to tell me her way of getting there — through Oxford, is it
not ? — and which are the most amiable trains.

The Hursley acting was grand. She Stoops to Conquer first, and
then from Midsummer Night's Dream all the fairy part and the
play, only Arthur had adapted it so as to put the play itself
instead of the rehearsal. He and Elhe had painted a most
lovely scene, with a moon and a bank. He was Oberon and she
Titania, and the other fairies were twins and Youngs. The
beauty of the thing was wondrous, Charlie was Bottom, and had
sjtch an Ass's head, and Wall, Moonshine, and Lion were splendid.

Mr. Wilson is looking for a careful manservant for Dr. Pusey,

270 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

who has had two deaths in a week in his house, one of the
servant who looked after him and managed opening the door to
people who want interviews.

I had a talk about P. Pusey's letter, not that I have ever
found it. We did not get to bed till one o'clock, and though I
did not get up till 8.30, I am stiff with sleepiness and stupidity
to-night. Here is a woman dying (I fear) in the village of a
brain attack. She sent for Mr. Elgee yesterday, but all her talk
was verse, and this morning she said Mr. Wither had been at her
bedside all night, praying for her. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

In September 1873 Mrs. Julian Yonge's youngest
sister. Miss Gertrude Walter, moved from Otter-
bourne House to Elderfield and took up her abode
with Charlotte. Miss Walter suffered from a severe
form of rheumatism, which made her extremely lame,
besides obliging her often to lead an invalid life.
But she was a clever sympathetic girl with kindred
tastes to Charlotte. Space at "the other house"
was increasingly required by the children, and the
arrangement came naturally about, and lasted till
Gertrude died, after long and severe suffering, just
before the Queen's Diamond Jubilee in 1897. She
and Charlotte were warmly attached to each other.
She called herself playfully " Char's wife," as she
played the part of helpmeet in her work. She was
a person of great courage and of many interests,
making collections of shells and dried flowers,
cataloguing them even when she could only write
with her left hand, drawing and reading. She acted
as confidant and critic to Charlotte's subsequent
stories, kept all the reviews of them, sorted and

MISSIONARY INTERESTS 271

arranged all the autograph letters received from
famous people, and in short for many years gave
her friend all the companionship which so genial
and sympathetic a person required.

There is no doubt that her presence did much
for Charlotte's happiness, and her help and affection
were repaid by the tenderest devotion. Nothing
of course could prevent the presence of serious
illness being often a great strain, as Gertrude's
sufferings increased and her powers diminished.
The necessities of an invalid life took up much
room in the small house, so that Charlotte for
some years was not able to receive her friends,
except by providing sleeping accommodation for
them in the village. This was a loss to her, and
a still greater one to others. No doubt also un-
willingness to leave her house -mate alone helped
to keep her from visits and outings, but it was
by no means the only reason. Partly from habit,
partly from the vividness of her village interests,
and partly I think from the weakness of the heart
of which she often speaks, which made bustle
and anything like hurry-scurry distasteful to her,
she did not like travelling, and never seemed to
feel the need of change. Her friends have often
regretted that she went about so little, was so
rarely in London, paid comparatively so few visits
to her friends, and have assigned one and another
cause to the fact. But in the long run, people
depend on habit and temperament, and lives work

272 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

out as they are meant to do and in accordance
with people's capacities.

In the early seventies Miss Finlaison came to
reside in Otterbourne, and being a person of con-
genial tastes to Charlotte, she assisted her for some
years as sub-editor of the Monthly Packet, and also
shared heartily in her parochial interests.

To Miss Dyson

(On a Visit of Miss Wordsworth, Principal of Lady
Margaret Hall [undated'\)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, May ii.

My dear Marianne — It seems a long time since I have written
— in fact Miss Wordsworth hardly let me do anything for talking.
I have not taken to a person so much for a great while past ; she
is so good and so sensible and, what I was far from expecting, so
funny, and her fervent love and devotion to her father are so very
charming, and her last evening she made such a sweet outpour to
me of her Bild worship of him, and her happy home, which has
never had a sorrow on it in thirty-two years, and I suppose she
took to me, for she ended by saying she never thought she could
get to love any one so much in four days. She carried off lots
of wild flowers to the Westminster Hospital. Wednesday we
dressed the church for Ascension Day, when, as evening church
was late, we had time for a most exquisite drive through Hursley
and Ampfield, all the oak woods being the most marvellous colours
of gold and red, and yesterday we went to St. Cross. So I hear
Stephen Lovelock is to take care of the Elgee pony. Miss Poole
and I read Sintram up to his storm to-day, but as Gertrude does
two pages a day at Storringham she will beat us. She comes
here the very day I come home from you, and Miss Roberts on
the Monday after. — Your affectionate C. M. Y.

In 1875 Otterbourne and Hursley were divided,
and Otterbourne was made into a separate parish.

X MISSIONARY INTERESTS 273

It was Charlotte's intention and her great desire to
give a large sum of money for the endowment of the
new parish to which she was so much devoted ; but
about the time when this was in contemplation,
there occurred the failure of a company in which
Mr. Julian Yonge had a considerable interest, and
serious money losses were in consequence incurred
by the family. Under these circumstances Mrs.
Gibbs,^ of Tyntesfield, provided the sum necessary
for the endowment of St. Matthew's, Otterbourne,
and I have' heard Charlotte say that since the
interests of the parish did not suffer, she had only
rejoiced in being able to devote her earnings to a
yet nearer and dearer claim.

It seems, however, right that her original in-
tention should now be mentioned. Both in her
writings and in her practice she always regarded
family claims as the most sacred of all, they were
the nearest to her heart ; but after these it was
to the welfare of the Church, to missions, and to
religious education that she loved to devote the
proceeds of her labours. Her own pleasures were
considered last of all, but her nature was so fresh

1 Mrs. Gibbs was one of Charlotte's greatest friends, and her visits to
Tyntesfield, with its congenial atmosphere and beautiful chapel, was one of
her greatest pleasures. The In Memoriam notice of Mrs. Gibbs in the
Guardian was from her pen.

Mrs. Gibbs was the daughter of Sir Thomas Crawley Boevy, of Flaxley
Abbey, and in August 1839 became the wife of William Gibbs, already a
connection of the family, and one of those great merchant princes of whom it
may truly be said that " their merchandise and their hire is holiness to the
Lord."

Mrs. Gibbs died on the 22nd of September 1887. — M. A. M.

T

274 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

and vivid that she never lost her interest either in
great causes or in small daily events. It has been
much more difficult to construct anything like a
record of these quiet later years, because with the
early years of the seventies the almost autobio-
graphical letters which have enabled her to tell her
own story cease. Anne Yonge was dead, Miss
Dyson's health was failing and she preserved the
letters less rigidly ; those to Miss Coleridge have
all been destroyed. Those to other friends show
her thoughts on many important subjects, but do
not deal much with her daily life, as to which indeed
there is little that is fresh to be said. In 1881 the
sudden death of Mr. Elgee was a great loss to her,
though his place was well supplied by the Rev.
Walter Brock, and there was no break in the kind
of teaching given. In 1881 began the series of
stories which reproduced the old characters of her
earlier books — Two Sides of a Shield, Beechcroft at
Rockstone, Strolling Players, The Long Vacation,
Modern Broods.

For the contemporaries of her earlier books,
these later ones were like visits to old friends, full
of interest, even if the young people seemed
inferior to their mothers and aunts. Hardly a
week passed without a letter from some old reader
begging for more news of the old favourites.

These stories, though they contain many clever
character studies, notably that of Jane Mohun, who
develops from the inquisitive girl in Scenes and

MISSIONARY INTERESTS 275

Characters into the valuable and active church -
worker and manager of other people's business, and
who is as familiar and as real as a relation to
the inner circle of readers, these stories could not
appeal to a new and younger public. They were
too allusive, took too much previous knowledge for
granted, and did not really represent, in spite of
much effort at fair play, the girl of the eighties and
nineties. They are family chronicles compiled for
the elder generation rather than works of art.

Independent novels with much of the old charm
appeared at intervals, and every year from 1887
onwards she wrote for the National Society a story
suitable for the elder classes of elementary schools.
Some of her best work is in these books ; the
historical ones have all her old charm and grace, and
those dealing with the working classes are admir-
able. No one ever described well-cared- for village
life, the good refined mother, the nice young
servant, the worthy but by no means ideal young
man, with so much truth, and these tales might
well serve as a corrective to many pictures, pathetic,
pretty, or pessimistic, which spring from a supposed
realism, but often show no knowledge whatever of
the real conditions of modern village life.

The Carbonels was perhaps the most remark-
able of these tales, and shows the old conditions
from which village prosperity and civilisation was
gradually evoked by the efforts of good squires,
hard-working clergymen, and enthusiastic ladies.

276 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

It and its sequel, Founded on Paper, form an admir-
able study of what the Church of England did for
the agricultural classes from 1830 to 1890.

And here a word may be said of the books
written in " collaboration " with others. These were
undertaken half in joke and entirely for pleasure,
and though I do not know that they added largely
to the fame of any one concerned, writing them was
the most delightful of games, and reading them at
the time gave pleasure.

The Miz-Maze, a story by nine authors, rose
from a remark as to the likeness of letters supposed
to be by different persons when written by one
hand. The outline was Charlotte's, the final polish-
ing up Miss Frances Peard's. The letters were
after all surprisingly like each other.

Astray was invented on a delightful picnic, when
Miss Yonge, Miss Bramston, Esm6 Stuart, and my-
self all went astray in the New Forest, and evolved
the story in memory of the day. Miss Bramston
was its real author, and Miss Yonge's part in it was
a comparatively small one. The story of Strolling
Players, which she wrote in collaboration with
myself, was hers originally. The two sets of char-
acters did not perhaps combine very well in it ; and
they certainly would not have done so in real life.

In all this collaboration she was the most delight-
ful comrade, workfellow, or playfellow, as it may be
regarded, with interest ever fresh and eager, and
full appreciation of every one's part in the work.

MISSIONARY INTERESTS 277

In 1882 the papers entitled "Womankind"
began to appear in the Monthly Packet, from which
they were afterwards republished in book form.
They embodied the author's views of the principles
that should influence women, and the practices that
should result from them. The rules laid down,
and the practices condemned or advocated in
them, hardly, so to speak, fill up the title ; for
they were adapted almost entirely to the need
of girls and women of some wealth and position.
" Ladykind " would have better expressed their
scope. Even in their own day they only applied
to the few. But the spirit embodied in them
showed all the enthusiasm tempered by common
sense, the combined delicacy and brightness, that
marks all her writing. They contain some fine
and thoughtful passages, notably the two last
chapters about " Growing Old." I am sure we
were all much the better for studying them, and
that they left behind them an aroma of refinement
and cultivation too rare in the days that have
followed.

But the old public was growing older ; taste was
changing ; still more, the conditions of the book
trade were rapidly altering. The Monthly Packet
was confronted by many rivals ; cheap magazines
sprang up in every direction ; the old negative
principle of excluding from a magazine, intended
for young women, everything that could be thought
less than perfectly suitable for them became more

278 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

and more difficult to carry out, and perhaps some
things were excluded which it would have been well
to admit.

Also methods of editing had become much more
stringent ; in the old days the Packet came out on
the day it was ready, and, if more space was
required, pages were added to a number. Contribu-
tions from popular authors were declined rather
than sought for, and no attempt was made to court
popularity.

Under all these circumstances, and from far
other and wider causes, the circulation of the
magazine began to decline, and it was thought
that a younger co-editor, more in touch with young
girls, might be able to work it up again.

When I was chosen as the most congenial
helper to the old editor, I never myself expected
that the experiment would succeed. I knew too
well how entirely the Monthly Packet was the
expression of Charlotte Yonge's personality, and
the extension of her influence, to suppose that
another could supplement it for her own public,
and the conditions were not such as to attract a
new one. No one had a free hand, and the various
ideals clashed with each other. It was, however, a
choice between the immediate death of the old
Packet and some change of management, and it
was carried on till 1899 under the new conditions,
and its final cessation was brought about by causes
over which neither she nor I had any control, and

MISSIONARY INTERESTS 279

which had no connection with either of us. Its
good day's work was done, and it will never, on
the same lines, have a successor.

It cannot be supposed that the arrangement was
welcome to her, and some of her old friends and
admirers did not make it easier for her, but she
accepted it thoroughly, and behaved to her helper
with a generosity and loyalty, the difficulties in the
way of which I did not at the time fully understand.
It was a joy and an honour to help her, and the
inevitable differences of taste and judgment involved
never brought a cloud over the relations between
us. She continued to contribute frequently to it,
and really controlled its contents to the last much
more than was commonly supposed.

In 1 88 1 Mr. Brock left Otterbourne, and the
living was given to the Rev. Henry Bowles, who
had married Alethea, Mr. Julian Yonge's second
daughter, so that Charlotte had the great pleasure
of having a niece and nephew at the Vicarage, and
of finding new interests in their little children.

CHAPTER XI

THE LAST YEARS

There is very little to say of the last years of
Charlotte's life. Mr. Yonge sold Otterbourne
House to Major Scarlett in 1885, and his death
followed almost immediately after his removal to
London, after a long period of ill-health. Charlotte
felt the loss of the home of her childhood very
keenly, but she said little on the subject, and
accepted the consideration shown to her by the
newcomers in the same spirit in which it was
meant, rejoicing in their interest in the church
and parish, and finding the neighbourly intercourse
pleasant and cheerful.

She went less from home than ever, and
continued to take all her old interest in the
Sunday and day schools, teaching there regularly
till within a fortnight of her death.

Her friend Miss Finlaison was a daily visitor,
and shared in all her interests, while her niece.
Miss Helen Yonge, became more and more a stay
and support to her. There was also the pleasure

of having her niece, Mrs. Bowles, at the Vicarage,

280

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O

THE LAST YEARS 281

and the children there were a great delight to her,
and saw a great deal of " Aunty Char."

Miss Walter's health failed more and more, and
in 1897, just before the Diamond Jubilee, her long
life of suffering ended. It was the loss of a long
and congenial companionship, and also the cessation
of a great anxiety and of a sympathy for constant
suffering, which could not but be felt as a strain.

It became possible once more to receive friends
in the house, and Charlotte's friends enjoyed the
delight of her society. She still wrote and talked
eagerly of her writings, still noticed every bird,
insect, or flower that came in her way, and though
her walks were curtailed in length and she moved
about with some difficulty, it was still a yearly joy
to visit all her favourite places and see them in
spring, summer, or autumn beauty.

Above all, she retained her interest in the
schools, and continued to teach in them twice a
Sunday, and every week-day morning, taking the
boys and girls alternately in their Scripture lessons.
She also often examined the children in their
different standards in the afternoon.

There were two public events, so to speak, which
gave her great pleasure during these quiet years.
Before her seventieth birthday some of her
friends organised a shilling subscription among
friends, readers, and subscribers to the Monthly
Packet, to be presented to her with the signatures
of the subscribers on her seventieth birthday.

282 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

The idea was taken up with enthusiasm ; local
secretaries undertook the work, papers were sent
round for signature, and the total sum obtained
amounted to ;^200.

The signatures included many names of import-
ance and interest, and were all bound up together
with an address in a handsome volume and presented
to Miss Yonge, with the sum collected, on her
seventieth birthday, August 13, 1893.

The secret had been wonderfully well kept, and
the surprise gave her real and keen pleasure. She
devoted the chief part of the money to building a
lych-gate for Otterbourne Churchyard, and, as it
was particularly requested that she would get
something that she would constantly use herself,
she bought a pretty little table and equipage for
afternoon tea, which she continued to use every
day for the rest of her life.

Another undertaking testified to the honour and
esteem in which she was held. A collection was
started for the purpose of presenting her with a
sum of money to found a scholarship in connection
with the Winchester High School for Girls, to be
held at one of the women's colleges at Oxford or
Cambridge.

The heavy labour of conducting this enterprise
was chiefly borne by Miss Leroy (Esme Stuart)
and Miss Anna Bramston, and after an immense
deal of hard work the large sum of ;^i8oo was
collected from all parts of the country, and was to

XI THE LAST YEARS 283

be presented to Miss Yonge at the Winchester
High School on the i8th of July 1899.

It was one of the most splendid of summer days,
very hot, but most beautiful in every way. There
was a great diocesan gathering of Sunday School
teachers at Winchester on the same day — the date
had, I believe, been chosen for the convenience of
the Bishop. Charlotte would not allow this function
to be set aside on account of any ceremony intended
to do honour to herself, and after the luncheon at
the Bishop of Guildford's she went to the Guild
Hall, and sat in a corner listening to the addresses,
and testifying in her own person that, as she said,
"she regarded herself even more in the light of
a veteran Sunday School teacher than in that of an
author."

However, the feelings of others had to be
considered besides her own fatigue, and she was
persuaded out of attending the Cathedral service
for Sunday School teachers, and conducted back to
the Close, where afternoon tea was in progress, and
various promoters of the scholarship fund who had
come from a distance to see the presentation were
awaiting her, among them Miss Ireland Blackburne
and Miss Eleanor Price. Then we repaired for a
second edition of tea to the High School garden,
full of friends and neighbours and pleasant-looking
girls in summer frocks. There were many intro-
ductions, and Charlotte bore herself bravely, and
smiled and talked her best.

284 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Presently the Bishop of Winchester came to
conduct her into the great schoolroom gaily decor-
ated with daisy chains and heartsease, and two of her
old " goslings," Chelsea China and Bog Oak, walked
after her hand in hand, and with speeches elsewhere
recorded, the presentation was made, and she replied,
in spite of some emotion and nervousness, in well-
chosen words of pleasure and gratitude.

Afterwards the girls of the High School ex-
hibited some pretty tableaux taken from Charlotte's
historical tales.

Elderfield, ya^y 20, 1899.

My dear Miss Mowbray — I am afraid I did not thank you or
any one else for all your kindness to me. I had no notion of all
that the function involved, and I fear I have never outgrown
ungracious shyness, which I am often sorry for, and I am afraid
stood in the way in the many introductions. But nothing could
have been better managed or more gratifying than the whole, and
I can only thank you and your staff and your white band of
maidens for one of the prettiest and pleasantest recollections of a
lifetime. — Yours sincerely, C. M. Yonge.

It was a very happy day, and it gave her, I am
sure, unmixed pleasure and satisfaction.

But although her lively mind retained its-
interests, and her sight and hearing were un-
impaired, her strength was not what it had been,
and in the spring of 1900, while I was staying
at Elderfield, she had a severe attack of illness
resulting from a chill. She recovered from this,
and the habits even of ordinary old age, still less
of invaHdism, seemed almost impossible to her.

THE LAST YEARS 285

It was very difficult to make her take any care of
herself, and her Sunday of church-going and school-
teaching would have frightened most younger women.

In September I came to pay another visit,
and found her bright and well, able to plan out
stories, and ready for much intimate and interesting
talk. Still, there was a sense of farewell. One
lovely dewy morning in October I went for a
walk by myself through Cranbury copse and out
into the park beyond. The turf was silvered with
dew, the sky the loveliest pale blue of autumn,
the little birch -trees golden yellow, the beech
leaves lay red on the ground, and great dark
sepia -brown masses of bracken added to the
wonderful beauty of colouring. There was a sense
of that "calm decay and peace divine" on which
she loved to dwell, and as I thought of her intense
enjoyment of such natural loveliness, her profound
love for the home where she had dwelt for her
whole life through, it seemed to me that if I never
stayed in the old way at Otterbourne again I
should never forget that heavenly morning.

It was felt that it was not well to leave her long
alone, and as Miss Helen Yonge was abroad, her
cousin Miss C. Fortescue Yonge came and paid
her a long visit when I went away. She had bad
colds and was not well several times during that
winter, but her letters came as usual, and in March
she wrote to me and asked me " to come and meet
the daffodils."

286 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Alas! rdid meet them, but they lined her
grave. I was at Winchester with Miss Bramston,
just preparing to go on to Otterbourne, when
she was taken suddenly ill with bronchitis and
pneumonia.

She had had the joy of her niece Helen's return
about a fortnight previously, and her last illness
was "very brief, with no farewells, and hardly any
full consciousness after the danger was once
declared. She received the Holy Communion on
the day before her death, and on the Sunday
evening, after a very few days' illness, she passed
away in peace, with friends around her, and amid
the tears of the whole village, to whom the loss
of her familiar figure from their midst seemed an
incredible thing.

Letters and tributes of flowers came from all
quarters — from church societies, from unknown
readers and admirers, and old scholars — till the
church was filled with their fragrance and beauty.
She lay surrounded with the flowers of her own
village, the daffodils and primroses which she
loved, with a beautiful smile of kindness, and the
look of the peace which passeth all understanding
on her face.

The funeral was to be on Friday, and on
Thursday evening the coffin, followed only by
relations and connections, was carried to the church,
where a great gathering of friends and neighbours
awaited it. As we passed the school, with a dull

THE LAST YEARS 287

grey sky and a light snow falling, the poor
children whom she had loved so well swept down
behind us in two long black lines, and for the
last time followed their best friend and teacher
into the church whither she had so often led them.
The church seemed full of flowers and light.
The vespers for the dead were sung, and after-
wards through the night friends and neighbours
watched in the church by turns, while psalms and
appropriate hymns were sung by the choir.

In the early morning the Holy Communion
was celebrated, amid the glittering whiteness of
hoar frost and light snow, for the beauty of which
she had a special love. The actual burial was at
two in the afternoon in alternate sunshine and
snow, and no one who was there will forget the
sight of the choir in their white robes grouped at
the foot of the cross erected to the memory of
her friend and guide, John Keble, the school-
children all in black behind them, the flower-
lined grave, and the sense of peace and glory
through all the loss and grief

It seemed to those in Otterbourne who had
shared in her teaching and lived in her presence
as if the religious life of the place would fail and
break to pieces without the one who had done so
much to uphold it for so many years. But, although
the space she left can never be filled, it would
have been a poor tribute to her memory if this
had been so. Her work, her influence, neither

288 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

at home nor abroad, could die with her, but will
do honour to her memory for years to come.

There seem no more appropriate words with
which to conclude than some which were very
dear to her, which she would never have applied
to herself, but which cannot but recall her to her
friends —

" The path of the just is as a shining light, which
shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

From Mrs. Sumner

The Close, Winchester.

Dear Miss Coleridge — It is a great pleasure to respond to
your request that I should write some of my recollections of
Miss Yonge.

In my early married life I had known her for many years as a
great personality in our neighbourhood, where we met her often
at Dr. Moberly's, Sir William Heathcote's, Farnham Castle, The
Deanery, and many other houses, but owing to her remarkable
shyness and reserve, I never felt as time went on in the least more
intimate with her. She had a very cold and unapproachable
manner, so I was content to admire her from a distance, and
there was no difficulty in doing this. She was at the zenith of
her celebrity as a novelist ; people crowded to be introduced to
her ; she was the central attraction in every party at which she
appeared, and it must have been difficult for her to decline the
urgent invitations which she received to be the lioness of a
London season, and to take her place as one of the popular
authors of the day.

I heard a great deal about the pressure put upon her to come
up to town and allow herself to be feted as a celebrity, but this
she steadily refused, and it seemed to me that personal admira-
tion and adulation was peculiarly distasteful to her at all times.

She was kind and polite enough to receive the compliments

THE LAST YEARS 289

of her admirers with a little jerk of her head and a slight smile,
but the moment it was possible within the limits of propriety she
turned herself away and spoke to some one else.

Nothing was more marked in her characteristics than her
humility and indifference to public opinion. There was a special
time in Miss Yonge's life when she became eminently handsome.
It was when her hair assumed a lovely grey tinge, and she some-
times allowed herself to be clad in most becoming garments. I
have seen her look splendid, and people exclaimed at her beauty,
while on the other hand her ordinary costume in daily life in the
village and in the garden was absolutely regardless of the canons
of taste. She evidently spent but little on dress.

I admired both of these outward versions of this most interest-
ing woman ; it was a study of character, and in this and so many
other ways she was greater than her sex, for she seemed absolutely
devoid of vanity.

It was in the year 1890 that I approached her with the
request that she would do us the kindness of becoming editor
of Mothers in Council. This proposition was made in fear and
trembling, for I dreaded a refusal, knowing the value of her
name and editorship, but the response was immediate and
gratifying. She accepted the office of editor to this new venture
without any hesitation, and with confidence in its success. From
that date until the time when her work on earth was ended, she
gave unfailing thought and care to this publication, and through
it we became fast friends. The ice was broken, and I was
allowed to know something of her noble and unselfish life.

I felt astonished that amid the ceaseless work she was ever
carrying on, literary, domestic, parochial, social, philanthropic,
ecclesiastical and devotional, she was able to find time for the
constant correspondence and extra business of this new periodical.
She had a great faith in our cause. It appealed strongly to her,
and she was eager to do all in her power to awaken attention to
the importance of its three objects. The Bishop and I had then
come to live in the Close, at Winchester, and she was settled in
the village of Otterbourne, in her old-fashioned, dearly-loved home
of Elderfield about four miles from Winchester, across the beautiful
rolling downs. How many a time have I driven over there un-

U

290 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

expectedly at all hours of the day to see her, and consult and
discuss various points concerning the Mothers in Council.

Never, in all these multifarious visits, have I ever received the
chilling " Miss Yonge is engaged and can see no one." On the
contrary, she always made me welcome, and was never hurried
in manner, or apparently pressed with work. It was simply a
delight to be in that well-known drawing-room with its litter of
books and newspapers and correspondence, her writing-table a
chaotic scene of apparent confusion, and she herself throwing off
all appearance of work and ready to enter into any subjects pro-
posed by her guests with a freshness and zeal which was amazing.
She must often have had to leave off at a moment's notice her
own literary employment, but it was done without noticeable
effort. When the business was over and all queries had been
answered, her conversation, her stories and hearty laugh made
the time spent with her quite fascinating. She was so eminently
natural, spontaneous, and merry, with the mask of shyness all
gone and nothing but charm remaining. I shall never forget my
visits to Elderfield, they struck me so greatly. In all my inter-
course with her, the thought was impressed on my mind that she
was devoid of womanly failings in a very remarkable degree.

She had no vanity, as I have already noticed, no love ot
criticising other people, for I never heard her say a severe thing
of any human being ; no nervous excitability, no impatience or
hurry in her work or manner, no contempt for dull, stupid people.

She had a quiet, cheerful, healthy, well-balanced mind ; she
was wonderfully well read and well informed, and her memory
was extraordinary. In conversation she was clever and humorous,
and her laugh was quite infectious. Such was the Charlotte
Yonge I had the happiness to know. The only trait in her
character which astounded me was that painful shyness which
consumed and transfigured her in the presence of strangers, and
gave a shock of disappointment to her enthusiastic admirers.

I recollect introducing a young girl to Miss Yonge, who had
conceived a passionate admiration for her through the Heir of
Redclyffe and the Daisy Chain. There was a nervous alarm on
Miss Yonge's face, and as she shook hands with the girl she
said nothing, she only uttered the slightest sound without words,

THE LAST YEARS 291

gave a little nervous jerk and smiled, and the interview was at
an end.

There is no doubt that she required to be well known to be
appreciated and admired as she deserved to be. Her platform
speeches at meetings were disappointing from the same cause ;
she always read them, but she never seemed to know them or to
be able to decipher her own handwriting. The time to enjoy
her speaking was when she took her share in a debate and was
absolutely among friends ; she was then quite at her ease, and
would get up and give her opinion on any point which interested
her concisely and clearly. Miss Yonge was a great personality in
the Winchester diocese, and her presence at meetings was always
a gratification to the audience. She was honoured and respected
by every one, and from a national point of view she has left us
an invaluable inheritance.

She has bequeathed to the English nation a wealth of good
and wholesome literature, which has touched and influenced many
of our greatest thinkers ; " she never wrote for purely literary ends,
but always directly or indirectly for the promotion of Christian
truth," and a great part of the proceeds of her works was
dedicated to missionary purposes at home and abroad. Upon
herself she expended next to nothing.

May we not show reverence to her memory by persuading
children of all ages to read her admirable books and stories from
the Little Duke, the Lances of Lynwood, the Dove in the Eagles
Nest, to the Heir of Reddyffe and the Daisy Chain ?

They offer a pure and beneficial change from the modern
exciting, sensational, and unwholesome stories which give young
people a distaste for good literature, and lower their minds.

Miss Yonge will ever live in our hearts and in our memory,
not only for her writings, but for the example of her beautiful
steadfast life in its high standard of simplicity and rigid dedica-
tion to duty. — Believe me, yours sincerely,

M. E. Sumner.

292 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

From Miss Anderson Morshead

My dear Christabel — My first real sight of Charlotte Yonge
was when I formed one of a group of eager, merry schoolgirls,
who almost lived on her works, who knew Landmarks by heart,
and adored Ethel and Norman May, and were hanging on the
issue of the Trial then coming out month by month. Miss
Katharine Buller then had a school in the " Mount Pleasant " of
the Autobiography (where her grandmother, Mrs. Duke Yonge,
had lived), and one day she announced that Miss Charlotte
Yonge was lunching in the Crescent with Dr. Yonge, and would
come in to see us. We were nearly speechless with enthusiasm,
and I armed myself with a small stone, extracted from a table
in a Berkshire garden, on which King Charles I. had once dined.
Alethea Pode and I were Charlotte's cousins, and she unbent and
laughed and talked to us, and after a little discussion I per-
suaded her to do homage to the absurd little stone by kissing
it, after which the relic had double value. She was tenderly
attached to King Charles, as her histories prove, and proud of
her descent from the first vindicator of the royal authorship
of Eikon Basilike.

When I went to the Cape in 1868 to work under Bishop
Gray, she was one of those who most encouraged me, and gave
me all her books as a Library for St. George's Home. I used in
her letters at that time to hear a great deal of her friendship
for Anne Mackenzie, the Bishop's sister. I don't know how it
began, but it was chiefly, if not entirely, after her return from
South Africa in 1863. Anne Mackenzie described to me how she
stayed at Elderfield when Charlotte was writing New Ground,
the proceeds of which, I believe, went to the Mackenzie Memorial
Mission in Zululand. Miss Mackenzie would he on a sofa at
one end of the drawing-room, while Charlotte wrote at the other,
and would help her with the right trees, flowers, and customs
necessary to the story. She wrote dutifully at it for one hour
daily, and would then seem rather relieved, as if task-work were
over. There were constant letters and occasional intercourse
down to Miss Mackenzie's death. She was a good friend for

THE LAST YEARS 293

Charlotte, clever, capable, and very sweet, with all her pretty
Scotch ways.

Of later years Charlotte and I worked a good deal together in
the Girls' Friendly Society and the Society for Higher Religious
Education. She made me join both societies. I know Mrs.
Harold Browne was always proud of having attracted Miss
Yonge to the Girls' Friendly Society in its earliest days. It was
not so much with the girls themselves that her value lay, as in
guiding the counsels of the Society. She stayed more than once
at Famham Castle to discuss it. And at the Winchester diocesan
councils her place was rarely vacant, her voice always heard with
respect. She saw the absurd side of a point very quickly, and
often saved us from a too rigid resolution. She often said a
thing on the spur of the moment that she would have been shy
of saying with premeditation, and she never was cut and dried.
You could not tell how she would view a thing, and to the very
end her advice was always wise, and she was usually " up to date "
in the Girls' Friendly Society, as you must know by her con-
tributions to Friendly Leaves.

The Higher Religious Education Society she helped from its
beginning, being on the council, and thoroughly enjoying the
little meetings at Canon Warburton's or elsewhere (he and his
family being friends of long standing), when they would set the
questions for examination, or arrange next season's subjects.
Charlotte gave several sets of Church History lectures, the sub-
stance of which was admirable and the style life-like, but owing
to rather indistinct vision latterly her delivery was not good, for
she always read her lectures. Several of the occasional papers
are from her pen, and she frequently looked over and class-listed
the examination papers, in which I sometimes helped. She was
very quick in seeing when a person, in spite of mistakes in
details which I usually pointed out, had got a grip of the subject.

A walk and talk with her was like a tonic — and a very nice
tonic. It braced one up, and one's wits had to be " on the spot "
with her. I have never known any one humbler or readier to
listen to others, though I am sure she truthfully knew her own
powers. She was much interested three or four years ago in
Dean (now Bishop) Paget's sermon and essay on " Accidie," but

294 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.xi

having studied the subject, she suddenly looked up, smiling, and
said, " I don't think you or I are much troubled by the sin of
Accidie ! "

It is a great pleasure to be able to say something of her to
whom I owe almost more than to any one of the highest, best,
and loveliest influences of my life. — Your afifectionate

A. E. Mary Anderson Morshead.

CHAPTER XII

LETTERS FROM MISS YONGE TO VARIOUS FRIENDS

To the Heathcote Family

To Mrs. Cooke-Trench ^

Otterbourne, Winchester,
February i6, 1859.

My dear Caroline — I shall like very much to send a pound
towards your window ; shall I send it to you at once by a post-
office order ? I hope your diaper will be as beautiful as some of
those patterns of the Cologne windows of which we used to have
a great sheet, and I always longed to see in glass, thinking that
they would be better than bad figures.

Miss Keble's illness was a very bad attack of bronchitis, just
at Christmas. Mr. Sainsbury was in great alarm about her at the
very time of poor Keenie's death, so that Mrs. Keble could not
have left her even if Mr. Keble had been able to get away. I
have not seen them since Tom Keble came, for it has been so
wet that the road was a perfect river, and Mr. Wither had to wade
in going to see a horse that Mr. Payne lamed and left at Hursley
to recover. Lady Heathcote was here on Monday to wish good-
bye, so I fear it will be long before we see any of your people
again, but she was so kind as to ask me to make a short visit in
London after Easter, so I shall be able to write to you from
thence. Some of the Moberlys spent the day with us yesterday ;
it is quite sad to see how grave Emily has grown,^ she seems to

1 Formerly Miss Heathcote.
- After the death of her brother, George.

29s

296 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

me more altered than any of them, and to have turned at once
from a very fine child into a very thoughtful woman. I suppose
this will shade away in time, as the house recovers its tone, but
it is very remarkable now. Yes, Friarswood is mine, and Paul
Blackthorn is a portrait of a poor boy who came here at the time
of the last Confirmation out of the Andover Union. All about
him and the village boys, up to the end of the chapter you will
have in March, is quite true, except that the farmer is worse than
William Smith was. The further part is, I am sorry to say, all
embellishment, for the real lad enlisted, and we knew no more
about him. Alfred was a boy in Devonshire to whom Jane
Moore used to go constantly, and who thought of her as very like
a sunbeam. He used to look so beautifully fair and pale, with
such blue eyes, and his feelings about his younger brother were
much what I tried to show them. I hope you will come in Jane's
way, I think she is the most winning person I ever knew, except
perhaps her mother, and she has such a depth of unselfish good-
ness and serious thought as one would hardly suspect from her
very droll manner and way of talking. I was so glad to like
Captain Moore so much, for I had intended to think no one
good enough for Jane. I am glad you liked the white horse. We
have What will He do with it? in hand now. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Otterbourne, Winchester,
November 3, 1859.

My dear Caroline — I find mamma is answering your questions,
and leaving me to tell you what I know you will wish to hear
about our loss. I do so wish you could have seen our dear
little William, with his large dark, soft eyes, and his merry smile,
he was such an unusually intelligent and pretty creature, I
suppose too much so, as if marked from the first for a brighter
home. Somehow I am half glad, though grieved, that my father's
name and Mr. Keble's godson should be safe from any stain or
dimming. It was well for mamma to be spared the two nights
and one day of his sinking, just kept up by wine as long as he
could swallow, and then six hours of fading away, the last two
upon Frances' lap. They brought him home to us, in his little

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 297

coffin looking so smiling and pretty, with violets in his hands,
and on Monday we laid him at his grandfather's feet. Mrs.
Keble made his little white pall, and put a cross of myrtle leaves
with arbutus flowers and holly berries. Frances is so good and
sweet and gentle that it is beautiful to watch her, and Julian too,
he feels it very deeply, for the little fellow was very fond of him,
and always wanted his notice. Mr. Wither too has been very
much grieved by it, he was so fond of the baby, and used to go
down on the floor to make him laugh, as he lay upon his
cushions on the floor at breakfast-time.

I believe many people thought him very delicate, but he was
a happy little thing, and we hardly realised how frail was the
tenure. Julian and Frances go to her uncle's on Saturday for a
fortnight ; it is a sort of second home to her, and will be very
cheering, she hopes. — Yours affectionately, C. M. Yonge.

(C« the Death of her Mother)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, October 8, 1868.

My dear Caroline — It did indeed seem to be bringing sorrow
upon sorrow when that account came of your dear father, and one
recollected all that he was to us in 1854, and indeed ever since, and
the accounts since have been a great cheer. It is strange that
scarcely any of our own specially near and dear friends who were
round us fourteen years ago were either left or at hand, Dr.
Moberly even out of reach, and Mr. Wilson also for the time,
and then came the heavy tidings from Malvern to press all more
sadly. But then I think the relief of a respite is always a help in
other things, and the better tidings were very brightening.

I think Mr. Wilson must have told you something of how it was
all last spring and summer, no disease, no suffering, no aberration,
but a universal enfeebling, more like the description in the Book
of Ecclesiastes than anything else, every month, almost every
week, carrying some strength with it, but without any pain,
or the least care or even discomfort except occasionally from
restlessness. The chief seats of weakness were the legs, and
the speech. She came from leaning on one arm to needing two,

298 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

and then to being carried. And unwillingness to speak was one
of the first symptoms, and gradually came to almost entire loss
of power of speaking, though she understood all that was said to
her, and smiled and responded up to the last. The smile never
failed, nor the patience, but latterly the weariness of great
weakness came, and I think she felt like one drifting away, for
she seemed always wanting to hold by my hand, or have me in
sight, and was distressed to see any of us go out of the room.
You know how little caressing her ways were compared with
others, but now she seemed to cling to caresses, and Frances's
pretty, tender, fondling ways were a great solace and pleasure to
her. I do not think she ever really mistook any one, though she
always called me Alethea after her sister.

She had been out for a long turn in a donkey chair on
Saturday, and really seemed refreshed and revived, and on the
Sunday she had two turns round the field, and would have been
out longer but for the rain ; it was rather a good day with her,
but was followed by a restless night. However her smile was
ready in the morning, when I told her that Anne Yonge was
coming that day. Alice Moberly was most kindly staying till she
could come. That was the last smile I saw. The getting partly
dressed and the breakfasting went on as usual, and we had just
begun the day's sitting with her, when a convulsive attack came
on, and from that time there was no consciousness even for a
moment. I do not think it was very violent, for the thing, but
I was kept out of the room through the earlier part of the time.
Afterwards there was nothing but a silent, still unconscious
breathing away of the life, and she was gone about five hours
from the first attack. St. Michael's Eve Mr. Wither read the
collect, and surely the angels did succour and defend. On Friday
we laid her where I think she always thought of her home. The
real companionship had gone so long before that I do not feel
any sudden loneliness as yet, and I have Anne Yonge with me
for a month ; I think I shall go back to Puslinch with her, but
return about Advent. I want to have faced the emptiness of the
house. Shall you be coming over in the course of the winter ?
I should be so sorry to miss you.

You must have been much helped by having Mr. Wilson with

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 299

you during those days of suspense. Is he with you still ? If so
give him my love, and tell him I did not answer his letter because
I was not sure where to find him, but I shall be very glad when
he is near again. — Your very affectionate C. M. Yonge.

To Sir William Heathcote

(On Sir J. T. Coleridge's " Ufe of Keble ")

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, February 28, 1869.

My dear Sir William — I am not quite so audacious as to sit
down in cold blood to review Sir J. T. C, but you are quite
right that many of the expressions were mine. The fact was
that the editor of the Literary Churchman, Mr. Ashwell, who
has been a very kind friend and helper, asked me to tell him
what chiefly struck me with a view to his paper, and he has put
many of the words in from a letter I wrote to him a few days
before I saw you, but he has given them the setting of his own
peculiarly lucid and sober language and with much of his own
besides. He always seems to me one of the clearest-headed
men I know. He has quite revived the Literary Churchman
after its decay, and this year there has been a great influx of
subscribers ; I do write in it a good deal, but chiefly of light
literature such as is wanted to enliven it. I hope you will take
it in, for there are often very valuable papers.

If you wish to be disgusted you should read Dean Stanley's
paper on Mr. Keble in Macmillan, where all in kindness he
finds his own latitudinarianisms all through the poetry. It is
much worse than any real enemy — open enemy I mean. I hope
to bring home the number of the British Critic on Saturday when
I return from a few days in London — I go to-morrow. Lady
Seaton was very sorry she had not a spare copy of that
photograph; her son Graham has some and promised to send
one when he went home, but as he never remembers anything
except by accident, I am afraid he has forgotten.

I have had a most kind invitation to stay with M. Guizot
and his daughter in Normandy next August or September; I

300 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

hope Julian and his wife will go with me to Paris, and see what
we can there, but I do not think we shall get any further. It
will be a great holiday, and I assure you I mean to make it so.
I hear from Mary Coleridge this morning that her father wrote
to Street, but they have not heard again, so they suppose him
satisfied.

I did not mean to trouble you with so long a letter, but your
kindness led to it. — Yours ever affectionately,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterboukne,
Winchester, August 2, 1870.

My dear Sir William — I hope it is not very presumptuous
to follow my impulse of not exactly congratulating you, but
expressing my great pleasure in the award of this mark of
honour 1 to you, coming, it seems to me, in an especially
gratifying manner, as being so entirely free from all connection
with party and at a time when I suppose it cannot be as a
matter of course, but as showing how high real merit and desert
can stand above politics.

I do not know whether this is all my ignorance, but the
feeling that the tidings gave me could not but long to express
itself, more especially when I seem to see again the look of
intense happy emotion that it would have brought into my
father's eyes.

Forgive me if I have said what I ought not, I really could
not help it. — Yours affectionately, C. M. Yonge.

Palace, Lichfield,
January 10, 1872.

My dear Sir William — Your letter has come on to me here.
I came on Monday to be instructed respecting Bishop Patteson's
life, which I am to try to draw up from the very full materials
that his family and Bishop Selwyn can provide. I hope to
return on Saturday.

' He was sworn of the Privy Council.

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 301

Thank you for letting me see Mr. FaithfuU's decision ; I think
he is wise to give his name, and so obtain the subscriptions of
all his friends. I daresay in this way he will obtain a good
deal of pleasure out of it himself, and I hope some benefit to
the hospital funds. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, _/'(j!?7«arj 30, 1872.

My dear Sir William — Many warm thanks for sending me
Mr. Austen Leigh's kind comment on the Daisies. I believe I
enjoyed them most, which is the best way to make a thing
prosper. I am afraid the moral is not good, but I have always
found that what one likes best one does best. As to the cray-
fish, I did not know that they were so local, having always
associated them with rivers, and they do not proclaim their
presence like nightingales. But the criticism has come happily
in time to expel these same crayfish from a feast given by Felix
Underwood after he came into his property, which was in the
same neighbourhood. Altogether it is such a story of young
people and chatter that it always especially amazes and pleases
me when such judges care for it.

Some day next week I hope to drive over and see if I can
find you at 5 o'clock tea ; I have been wanting to come for some
Httle time, but opportunity was wanting.

The Pillars of the House are written to the end, by which I
do not by any means mean finished, but they will not be all out
in the Monthly Packet till the end of 1873, ^t which time I
suppose they , will be published, so all corrections and annota-
tions before that time will be most thankfully received.

Mr. Faithfull has sent round his papers to ask for subscriptions
to his poems. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, April %, 1872.

My dear Sir William— Would you be so kind as to look at
page 9 of the " Gleanings " at the beginning of the Musings on the
Christian Year, and tell me whether you have any recollection of

302 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

telling Mr. Keble anything about your opinion of King Charles's
truth ?

There is a new edition called for, and Miss Dyson wants me
to take it out. Her letter coming while I was at Salisbury, I asked
whether it was there thought that I ought, as it was not accord-
ing to my impression lightly thrown out, and I put it in because
I thought it disproved blind admiration, while showing the real
tenderness.

The Bishop advised me to ask whether you remembered
having said anything of the kind to him — if you did, to leave it ;
if not, to take it out. So I am acting by order in troubling you
about it. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Eldbrfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, April lo, 1872.

My dear Sir William — Thank you greatly, 1 thought just as
you do that it was rather a needless question since I was quite
sure of the fact of what Mr. Keble said to me, and I should not
have asked you if it had been any one else who advised me, but
having asked him it seemed wrong not to do just what he
told me.

Miss Dyson is a devoted lover of King Charles, and had been
vexed to see any words of Mr. Keble used against him. Besides,
she said, and truly, that Mr. Keble's chance conversational sayings
did not always reflect a deliberate opinion, and the point was
whether this did or not reckon as an opinion thought out and
considered, which is my decided impression. — Yours affectionately,

C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, April 2.t„ 1872.

My dear Sir William — I am always bothering you about some-
thing, and now I want to ask if you would give me a sentence.
I want one describing the remarkable and peculiar merits collect-
ively of the Bench of Judges in the Patteson and Coleridge days.^

1 This opinion is incorporated in the Life of Bishop Patteson.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 303

I cannot well take it out of the mouth of a Coleridge and a Judge,
and I do not think I can do it rightly myself. I want to make
as full a picture as possible of old Judge Patteson, for he ought
to be remembered, and he went for very much in the formation
of his son.

If you would put, as you would in a letter, your view of the
high stamp of men who were Judges from about 1830 to 1855,
it would be what I want expressed. I do not know any one else
whom I should like to see doing it but Sir Roundell Palmer, and
I do not know him enough to ask. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

To Miss H. Heathcote
{On the Death of Sir William Heathcote^

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, August 19, 1881.

My dear Ellie — I have just heard of mat having happened
which for years I have feared to recollect must come some day.
I don't know how to dwell on it or how to think of it. I think
what comes before me oftenest is selfishly the sorrow for not
having seen more of him this last year, especially this spring.

There are some friends that one looks to like a sort of
father, and he was especially so to me. And it is selfish to talk
of oneself, but my mind goes back to what he was to me when
trouble came to me, and all I can say is that at such times one
gets to feel that it is precious to begin with "Our Father. "^ —
With much love, your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbohrne,
July 25, 1899.

My dear Ellie — Thank you for your loving little note. Did
you see in the Hants Chronicle a little bit of what I said after
the speeches, of the Bishop of Guildford and Mr. Warburton?
I could not help, when they said I had made clergy and good
men seem real, almost murmuring that my good men were not

304 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

ideals, but I had really known their equals (and superiors) in
reality. Mr. Warburton was so pleased that he sent after
the reporter to have it added. I am sure your father was
one of those in my mind, though not on my lips ! I had no
notion of what the affair was going to be, and my answer did
not^^, as I had to write it beforehand, for want of a ready
tongue. But it was very overwhelming and all turned out well.
The tableaux were very pretty, and httle Eustacie almost acted
in them.

I am going to Hursley on Thursday, and trust to see Bella.

The worst of all the day was that one felt it so untrue not
to be able to say how one fell short of one's books and ideals,
and so swallowing it all ! There is nothing for it but to believe
that all this being so, these writings have been meant to be
instruments —

To our own nets ne'er bow we down.

I am going to Dorking from the 9th to the i8th of next
month. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
November 4, 1 899.

My dear Ellie — Thank you for your letter. We have heard
nothing more, and hardly look for anything, and indeed there
had been only one letter from him since he joined Baden-
Powell, but that was enough to leave us no doubt that it is
himself.^ I am so glad he had that year at home after the
Matabele War.

He was very much loved here. There was to have been
a " Social Evening," but the people begged to put it off for they
could not enjoy it. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

1 Her nephew George, killed at the Limpopo River.

xii LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 305

To the Family of Dean Butler of Lincoln

To Dean Butler

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 6.

My dear Mr. Butler — I have two kind letters to thank
you for, first about the T and secondly about the war — I wish
the authority for the former was more direct and conclusive, it
is so very beautiful.

The Monthly Packet of October will be quite German enough
to please you, having the journal of a lady at Homburg
and a translation by Miss Sewell of " Der Wacht am Rhein,"
but I confess that I have not personally been able to get into
the stream of sympathy with Prussia, for Bismarck's policy does
seem to me that of the ambitious conqueror, and I never could
forgive him for Holstein. German unity does not seem to me
a rightful cause, though I can perceive that it may so seem to
Germans themselves, who have a sort of fanaticism for that
Vaterland of theirs. Of course the last offence was given by
France, but was it not the result of the long course of aggression
against which the stand had to be made ? Actually I suppose
that the last cause of quarrel was like Jenkins's ears, only a
pretext, but that put the French in the wrong. My first feeling
when war was proclaimed was that I could not wish much for
victory for either side. Now sympathy chiefly goes to poor
Strasburg and Phalsbourg, but on the whole the French nation
have shown very little improvement. One account of the camp
at Chalons reads just like a modernisation of the scene in King
Henry V. in the dauphin's camp the night before Agincourt, and
the description of the riotous scenes at the stations in France
are in wonderful contrast with the weeping, grave, earnest
Germans.

But is this present deadly stroke to bring out that nobleness
that France, or at least an individual Frenchman, is capable of,
and is this to be the beginning of better things after ninety years
and two Bonapartes — or is it still to be the "house divided
against itself " ?

X

3o6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

How much there is to talk over when you and Mrs. Butler
come to the Congress. I hope I shall see you on the loth of
October, and on the nth we may take our choice of the sermons
of your Bishop and him of Salisbury. — Yours affectionately,

C. M. YONGE.

Thank you much for Von Moltke to add to my book of
distinguished people. It is a fine face, but with more shrewdness
and power than greatness.

To Miss Barnett, Sister to Mrs. Butler ^

Elderfield, November 12.

My dear Lizzie — . . . Yes, I saw the Spectator on Chantry
House, but indeed I did not put in the ghost for the sake
of variety or sensation, but to work out my own belief and
theory. I could tell you things I quite believe that chime with
it. One I must tell, not that it is a ghpst probably, it is so
curious. The poor people in the Torquay outskirts think a
thing walks in the few remaining woods of the Abbey which
they call a Widdrington.^ Now Miss Roberts has hunted up
that the last Abbot was accused before Henry VIII. of having
murdered a monk named Widdrington, whom however he
produced safe and sound. Don't you think the live man must
have been seen after he was thought dead and so left his name ?
— Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, April 2.

My dear Lizzie — ... I see in the paper the death of a
third Sumner within a few months ; I hope our Archdeacon
won't be the next. His virife was a Heywood, and is very valuable.
They have given up Alresford and come for good to the Close,
and are very useful. Christabel Coleridge has been here. The
Princesses give great satisfaction at Torquay, where they walk

' I have thought it best to leave these undated letters as they are, without
endeavouring to guess the dates.

2 I have never come across this belief. — C. R. C.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 307

about with their governess and shop. "And," said one man,
" Miss Maude would carry home her own galoshes."

Christabel and I wrote Mothers in Council together, each
writing a speech in turn answering one another ; I wonder what
you will think of it, but it can't come in May. She is writing a
very good story, out of Torquay experiences, on the plunge of a
gardener's family from a favoured country parish into a town full
of rival churches and schools. I want people to write and exhort
the poor people whose children go to board schools to supply
catechism. .But though board schools are few in these parts
(none at Winchester) hardly a new child comes here who knows
it, almost never beyond " the duties," and we have had a good
many. It is funny to see our children poke out their heads to
see how far the new ones will go. One very nice little pair of
sisters immediately bought a prayer-book and learnt three
answers of themselves, and said their name was N. or M. We
are overwhelmed with new cottages just now, and quake lest we
should be swamped with strangers. I hope the young gentlemen
may lead the young ladies. But there is a much larger amount
of people who don't come in contact with University folk than
there was in our time, and C. R. C. mentioned too as one
disadvantage to the modern girl that the curate, instead of being
her hero, is often her inferior in social standing.

I hope your De Wints will keep. It is much warmer to-day,
and the daffodils are a glory ! — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

I never congratulated you on Grace's little daughter. The
great girls will be like her maiden aunts !

Elderfield, Easter Eve.

My dear Lizzie — Things are coming all right ; Mary Coleridge
will be ready for me on the 2 9th, so I shall have the week before
for sights of the dear people.

Here am I writing letters instead of decorating, for I have got
laid up with an attack of shingles; however, as it began on
Sunday, though I did not know what it was, I hope it will soon
finish off.

3o8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

I wish some one (not a woman) would put it with authority
that it is frightful that we, " whose souls are lighted " by the
inspired tradition of thousands of years, should listen to the
German critics who have no church, even if they believe at all,
and who talk as if Hebrew was their mother tongue. It seems
to me letting the devil in. Have you seen Mr. Rosenthal's
lecture on Isaiah, which shows how one really bred to Hebrew
scholarship disposes of the twofold idea ? — Your affectionate

C. M. YoNGE.

Elderfield, February 27.

My dear Lizzie — . . . It is no use to debate about W. E. G.
You know even dear M. A. and I had to avoid the subject, so
I am not likely to be more convinced now of anything but that
he deceives himself most of all, and takes love of power and
popularity and hatred of Conservatives for love of right.

I have the outline of a story for the Xmas number (begun
before your letter about High Arts, etc.) about a girl who
abandons her mother to study it. I don't know if it will come
to good, for I am slipping behind the modern world. — Your
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Do you remember Mr. St. John Tyrwhitt about the Greek per-
fection of form in Art, and the Christian ideality of countenance ?
Do not girls who outrage their feminine instincts throw away all
hope of that higher thing ?

{0?i the last Illness of Miss Dyson)

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 22, 1878.

My dear Lizzie — Beatrice Morshead wrote to me on Saturday,
so that I had her letter at the same time as yours. I had heard
from Miss Bourne the day before this change. Beatrice's letter
seemed as if there was a little more revival, and it seems now to
be possible that there may be more vitality even now than we
thought. But one cannot wish for aught but rest. There was

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 309

something so sad in the way she said, after being with her doctor
last time I was there, " I think he was sorry for me." Yes, she
has been one of the great influences of my life (I am sure I
have been a " companion of the saints," whatever I am myself,
something I fear much more like "him who lacks the martyr's
heart"). That first time I saw her in the garden at the Nest
has been one of the landmarks of my life ; and next to my
father and Mr. Keble, she turned the course of my mind.
What numbers would say the same of her in different degrees.
I think she will bring her sheaves with her. — Your most
affectionate C. M. Y.

{On the Death of Mrs. Gibbs of Tyntesfield)

Elderfield, St. Michael.

My dear Lizzie — Thank you for your kind letter. This is the
dear Mrs. Gibbs's burial day, and I have been prevented from
keeping it properly by Mr. Brock suddenly knocking up this
morning with neuralgia and sick headache. If it had only begun
yesterday he would have got help on such a great Saint's day ;
but that is not to the purpose. We knew what was coming for
nearly a month ; Mrs. Gibbs herself had found something wrong
in the spring. She would not, however, let her sons know till
her eldest son and his wife came back from being in Scotland,
and by that time in August dropsy was setting in. I do not
think there was much acute pain till towards the end, and then
it was allayed by morphia, and up to the last three weeks she
was able to be taken to her beautiful chapel, which stands on
arches so as to be level with the upstair rooms. There was
restlessness and oppression, but exhaustion came on, and she
sank in about a week, always sensible, and having thought of
everybody and everything, quite happy and peaceful. I certainly
never saw her like in many respects, there was such a conscien-
tious humility and wisdom in all her largeness of heart, and such
a grace and exquisite taste, together with self-denial. That
beautiful house was like a church in spirit, I used to think so
when going up and down the great staircase like a Y. At the

3IO CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

bottom, after prayers, Mr. Gibbs in his wheeled chair used to
wish everybody good-night, always keeping the last kiss for " his
little maid," Albinia, with her brown eyes and rich shining hair.
She went a year before the old man — now fourteen years ago—
but the dear Blanche did revive wonderfully, throwing herself into
all her good works, and making her house such a place of rest
and refreshment. Last time I was there it was with Fanny
Patteson, the Mother of St. Peter's, Kilburn, the Bishop of
Bedford, and Mrs. Walsham How ; now three out of the six are
gone within a few months.

Have you read Mgr. de Merodes' Life 1 It is very curious ; he
was so entirely the chivalrous soldier all the time he was the
devout priest and Pope's almoner, and he behaved so well about
the dogma, and the poor old Pope was so fond of him. I had a
little visit at Crookham just at the end of the hot weather, and
found Miss Bourne very well, but her heath sadly burnt up. —
Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, November 19, 1887.

My dear Lizzie — I trust you will neither find London in a riot
or in a fog ! I came through it yesterday, and could not see
sixpences from half-sovereigns till I was over Waterloo Bridge,
when it became less dense.

I was coming from Hatfield, where I have had three very
pleasant days, but the first was so beset with fog that I could not
see nearly as much of the outside as I could have wished, though
I paid my respects to the oak Elizabeth was sitting under when
the news came that her sister was all but dead. Relic-hunters
have all but killed it, and it has only one spray at the top. It is
bolstered up with concrete, and fenced round to keep' them off.
There is another, much older, mentioned in Domesday, quite
well though shaggy, because it has been let alone. Is it not odd,
when the Queen and Prince Albert were there just after they were
married each planted an oak — his has died, and hers has thriven ?
I brought home an acorn of the Queen's. The very old oaks
bear acorns, but they won't grow. The best thing I saw was the
Little Gidding book made for King Charles, Dutch engravings

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 311

cut out, and the chapters they belong to pasted in below, in most
beautiful condition. Mr. Maxwell Lyte of the Record Office was
there, so that it was a grand opportunity of having MSS. and
letters explained. All Robert Cecil's commonplace book is there,
and most curious letters of course.^

I wonder if a fog will be good for that mob. The anxiety
seems to be that there are a good many foreign socialists about,
who really do know how to do mischief, and will. One curious
person to meet was the Italian ambassador. Count Conti. He
told me he had tried living on his estate in Lombardy, but could
only stand ten days of country life !

Poor Crown Prince ! He could only speak in a whisper at
the Jubilee. I daresay it will be warmer soon, but I wish you
were safe at Lincoln.— Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, yawzMry lo, 1890.
My dear Lizzie — I can't help sending you this letter, it is so
curious. The man appeared here last summer to pick up
incidents about Miss Austen. I could' not tell him anything
but dear old Sir William Heathcote's recollection of her as Mrs.
Candour at a Twelfth-day party. They use her for a classic at
one of the American Universities, and examine in her ! It must
be fun to hear them ! By the bye, I have had two letters from
a Hindoo Professor, one Guopna (I think), asking elucidations
of some bits of slip-slop in Golden Deeds, which it seems is a
class-book at Bombay and posed the poor professors. To have
one's bad grammar come round in that way is a caution ! Do
you know, when it was fresh. Dr. Neale wrote to thank me for
Guy, for making him not only so good but so real. Well !
M. A. D. and Mr. Keble were at the bottom of Guy, so no wonder.
You know how M. A. set me to write the contrition of a good
man who had not shot any one by accident. I have just finished
the story of Sabinus and Eponina I told you I was doing, or
rather of their slaves, a Gentile who is born and bred a slave,

1 This visit to Hatfield was arranged in order that Miss Yonge might see
some original records of Mary Queen of Scots, at the time when .she was
writing Unknown to History.

312 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

and a highly educated self-satisfied young Jew, caught in Galilee.
The Gentile becomes a Christian, and the Jew despises him, and
thinks he can be as good without. They are both caught and
tortured to tell where to find their master. The Gentile is
silent and dies of it. The Jew speaks hardly.^

Elderfield, y»«« 7, 1892.

Dearest Lizzie — Here am I writing to you out upon the lawn
under the pleasant shade of the berberis. There ought to be a
nightingale singing, for one lives at the corner, but he is a lazy
bird, and year after year always is nearly silent after the first
fortnight, though yesterday I not only heard but saw his fellow
singing with all his might in a young oak, making his tail and
wings quiver.

I had your letter just as I was starting for Amport where
Emily Awdry had asked me to come for her G.F.S. festival — a
quiet little parish excellently worked, and it was a happy visit,
though saddened by Mr. Chute's death. I think you know all
about that almost ideal family in their historical old home, the
Vyne. He has had heart complaint for years, so it was not
unexpected, but he went about and was a most helpful church-
man. His family called him their Saintly Chaloner. He had
just had the pleasure of his eldest boy getting into college at
Eton with only his preparation. He is a very great loss.
Mr. Brock still has heard nothing from Government about his
father's living, though as all Guernsey has begged for him, there
seems no doubt that he will go, and he thinks he can deal with
the people as no one can whom they do not already care for.
It is an anxious time, but in the main we are in safe hands. ^

My old frail house has had to be shored up and Gertrude had to
be moved into the drawing-room, bed and all ; she goes back to-
day, but the demenagement will last for another week at least,
and then I go to London for the G.F.S. week. After her last
year's experience I suppose Emma will not encounter it again

1 The Slaves of Sabinus (Nat. Soc).

2 Rev. W. Brock, Vicar of Otterbourne, succeeded to his father's living in
Guernsey.

xii LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 313

this time. My old Harriet is to meet me there ; she has been
visiting her nieces, and there a great dog bit her; she was
feeding it, and it thought she was going to take away its dish of
water. It was only a graze, but it swelled so much that after
ten days she can only just put her foot to the ground. She is
on the whole much better.

I am glad to hear of the two more volumes of Essays ; we
have been reading the Blackwood ones, also that very striking
" Pharaohs and Fellahs.'' You will like C. Coleridge's N. S. story,
a German chivalrous one.^ — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, August 21, 1893.

My dearest Lizzie — We had found all your names among the
5200 in the wonderful book all bound with daisies down the
back, which came as a great surprise, two Moberlys leaving it
and Queen Margherita at the door, and then whisking off so
that they were not recognised or followed up. However, I have
had a few days with them in their home at Salisbury and heard
all the ins and outs and how it began. The old and present
scholars here, 300 of them, gave me a present too. They
ranged from seventy-two years old to five ! Queen Margherita
signified about it to Lady Sophia Palmer. It is a most lovely
face in her photograph.

We had a nice cool garden at Salisbury where we sat most
of the time I was there. I must tell you that one pleasure there
on the 1 5th and 1 6th of August is that just at sunset the sun-
beams come in from a west window in the north transept, and
weave a parting crown on the Figure on the Cross in the central
compartment of the Reredos. It was exactly there on the 15th
as the clock struck seven, then it rose up as the sun went down,
and was gone in about two minutes. It came on the i6th, but
though brighter not so well in the centre at the time, and was
gone on the 17 th. It was curious that the first time the
Moberlys saw it I was with them, ten years ago. I believe
Canon Gordon found it out first.

1 Max, Frits, and Hob.

314 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

( On the Death of Dean Butler of Lincoln)

Elties.¥1ei,X), January 17, 1894.

Dear Mr. Maddison — How shall I thank you enough for
writing to me much that I might never have known, though Miss
Barnett promises to send me some of the letters she has had.
Poor thing, the tower of strength is gone, and she has lived in
and for those two so long that I cannot think that her frail
body will stand such a shock. I am glad you told me that she
does not know of the anxiety for her sister, for I had a short note
from her this morning speaking of her as bearing up so calrnly,
and " more than resignedly.'' Indeed Mrs. Arthur Butler told me
in the autumn that she did not know the full extent of the illness.

To me it is another of my lamps gone to be a star, and at
seventy-one has hardly any left on earth.

The friendship personally dates about forty years ago, and
seems to me to be even older through the having heard of the
family party constantly through the Dysons of Dogmersfield, who
had a wonderful faculty of bringing friends together. The Dean
was almost one with the " Mighty three." Indeed, as Mr. Dyson's
pupil, he was almost of their generation in thought and inde-
pendence of sentiment, such as made him especially wise and
original. I am afraid you did not know Wantage in those bright
days of progress, when it was such a wonderful home of high
spiritual atmosphere and training, mixed with all that was in-
tellectually bright. I enjoyed it so deeply, and shall never forget
our joyous expeditions and deeper, more memorable talks — one
day in especial, when there was a drive to see the Fairford
windows. I always hoped to come and see them at Worcester,
and again at Lincoln, but there are ties at home and I never
could manage it, and now it is too late.

I had read half through the review of Dr. Pusey when your
letter came and made me read it as last words, and recognise the
hand, especially in the little touches about Hursley. Did you
know that he gave anonymously the beautiful carved font cover
there ?

The Dysons used to tell that when he was presented to
Wantage he wished he could keep one old wise curate, not to

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 315

work but to be consulted, a wish so unlike most young vicars
one cannot help remembering it. Wantage was almost a
theological college. Then many men were trained there, and
how widely has the influence reached ! How many he has
formed. — Yours truly gratefully, C. M. Yonge.

To Mrs. Lewis Knight

Elderfield, December 12, 1896.

My dear Emma — I may write a Sunday letter to say how
much it has been to me to read such a record of the good old
days of Nest, and all the wonderful "go" there was at Wantage.
It was like the sparkling stream, and the clear, still, reflecting pool,
both equally pure, but one full of ripples, broken but bright, and
the other silent and meditative. And what a development !
Certainly prayer and grind do turn the wheels ! I wish Dr.
Pusey could have been done so as to leave a clearer, stronger
impression ; I am afraid his life does not give a sense of attractive-
ness, partly from the brunt of the battles so falling on him, and
partly from the sadness of his home life. The Wilsons used to
speak of cheerful breakfasts, but how far was that Mr. Wilson's
own cheeriness diffused? I never knew him, only shook hands
with him once, at Mr. Keble's funeral. And I don't think he was
a judge of character.

told me that "one of the most saintly women she

knew " was one of those who could not teach O. T. I don't
think saintship could exclude full faith ! There is a horrid
book. Womanhood in the Old Testament by Dr. Hodder, which
I wish Arthur or somebody would cut up. It divides the
narratives up, as by the J, E, or P writers, and then goes on upon
the women, Sarah, Rebekah, and all, as if they were Shakespeare's
heroines, patronising and admiring the skill of the author, and
finally saying that the book Esther is the same sort of thing as
Peter Halkett or Marcella.

Much love to your aunt and Mary. The former will be glad
to hear that though Helen goes home this week, I shall have a
nice young cousin here for Christmas. — Your affectionate

C. M. Yonge.

3i6 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

To Miss Florence Wilford^

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 20, 1869.

My dear Florence — Thank you for your kind note ; I am glad
you are at St. Cross again. I will try to come and see you as
soon as I can. My dear cousin Anne had not been strong for
many years, but was quite in her usual health till forty-eight hours
before the end. Then as she was going upstairs at night a
dreadful attack in the head came on, just what several of the
family have had before, and it was very soon quite hopeless,
and after the first few hours there was no apparent consciousness.
Of course when the first letter had reached me all was really over,
though I had one day of preparation — I cannot call it suspense.
It is the loss of my very earliest and greatest sister-like friend,
and would have been much harder to bear if I had not seen
much reason last year to fear for her much suifering in health and
spirits.

Her father has three left out of his ten children ; he is bearing
up beautifully, and so is his great mainstay, his daughter Mary,
but it is such desolation to the house really that I can hardly bear
to dwell on it. I had been at home not quite a week, having enjoyed
the journey very much, and I shall greatly like to talk it over
with you, and to hear what you have been doing in the mean-
time. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 28.

My dear Florence — The constituent parts of the New Barnacle
don't come in fast, but I know there are a few more to come for
vol. xvii. If enough do come in to be worth binding, I think I
must leave it in your charge. I send you what I have already
come in for it, and please keep it to see whether there comes
enough in addition to use. If there does, I will write about it.

If you go away before we come home, please leave the papers

1 Miss Florence Wilford was the author of Nigel Bertram^: Ideal, Vivia,
and many other tales much admired by Miss Yonge.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 317

with Katie Johns to keep for me. I wish we could have come
to see you, but it was quite impossible the day we went to the
Johnses, and if we had, our old white horse would have dropped
down very ill at your door instead of deferring it to ours. So it
was lucky for all parties that we did not stop. She is better.

Oh, if you could have seen a little pretty chit march into this
room as upright as a dart, and as much at ease as — I don't know
what, a creature about fifteen, who proceeded to shake hands
with me. "Good morning, Miss Yonge, I'm an American, I
came to thank you for your books.'' And presently, " I came to
thank you for writing so much for the Church. We value that so
in America.'' I assure you she did it like the U.S. personified !

Direct to me (with my Christian name) at Puslinch, Yealmp-
ton. — Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Eldbrfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, July 23, 1873.

My dear Florence — Miss Mackenzie met Frances Peard a few
days ago at Tyntesfield, where she must have been staying at the
cottage with Mrs. Doyne, so I suppose Mrs. Baker will hear of
her soon. I have heard nothing of her but one card while she
was in Scotland.

Our hearts are indeed very heavy for our Bishop, for the
charm and delight of his manner come before one, and that
matchless voice in the Confirmation addresses. The last time
I saw him was in my own drawing-room after our last Confirma-
tion on Tuesday in Holy Week. The sense of personal friend-
ship he has left with so many and many must be unequalled for
number. And oh, the future ! If he did disappoint one some-
times, there were points where one was secure of him. I suppose
it will be a translation to this grand See, and that that will make
room for Archdeacon Bickersteth, who is as good a man as can
be, but without full strength for work. The Bishop of Oxford
has no fault but being a Radical, but I don't see how he could
take this, with nowhere to put his large family. I met him at
Mr. Wither's last week ; never was anything so full of heart and
spirit as that church opening, and the meeting after it. That

3i8 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

corner of Buckinghamshire is a desolate place as to clergy, and
Mr. Wither seems to have been a wonderful stay to the Arch-
deacon, and to be immensely valued and looked up to. It was
an odd visit, for I was the only lady in the house, and there
was the Bishop for one night, the Warden of New College and
two other old Fellows thereof. However, all but one of them I
had known for many years.

Let me know your comings and goings. I do hope you will
come to Winchester ; I want to say come here at any rate, but
I don't at this moment see my way between Miss Mackenzie and
Gertrude, who is now at Southsea, and is to come to me when
she returns, I can't tell exactly when. — Your afifectionate

C. M. YONGE.

ELDERFlELD,ya««ary 27.

My dear Florence — As next Tuesday is a Saint's day, perhaps
I had better say that the boy would not find me at home, as the
first Tuesday in every month there is a meeting of the High
School Committee. On all Thursday afternoons till Easter I
have to be at the mothers' meeting, and indeed we are so eaten
up with preparing for the examinations that I can answer for no
afternoons in February or early March. It does seem very
ridiculous, but having Monday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday
always engaged, the other two afternoons get everything else in
them, so that I am not very likely to be in the way. So I think
he had better not try to find me till after the first fortnight in
March, when I suppose the stress of preparation will be over.
I never feel as if I had any time when the mothers' meetings
go on, from October to Easter ; Thursday is so much the most
available day of the week, and it is the one the women like best.
By the bye, I have lent Tender and True to Mrs. Wickham of
Compton, who says her mothers are delighted with it.

I am glad to hear what you say of young ladies now; I
suppose there are very different sets ; I went by various things.
I knew of several cricket matches, and one poor girl wrote to me
to ask how to manage about one where gentlemen were to play.
I heard also the letters of a girl who came out under her sister's

xii LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 319

(a Countess) auspices this spring, and who could hardly get out
of reading bad sensation novels because of the talk about them. I
hear also of rompings, in high life chiefly, I am sorry to say. And
one reason why I wrote the letter was because I had a piteous
one from a clergyman's wife at a big smart place, because the
young ladies acted as I described, and she could hardly keep up
her Sunday school. G.F.S. too has shown the difficulties of
servants, because their young ladies lie down after Early Celebra-
tion and dress for luncheon, preventing them from church-going.
Miss Bramston has written a short paper in defence on the
independent side, but she owns to their saying "beastly" in
confidential moments. Of course I know plenty of nice girls,
and of more also, but I think the general run is deteriorated.
I should like a further defence on another side. I want a
discussion to strike out sparks.

I don't think I have been hospitable to your boy, but it is a
pity that he should come when I am out, or still worse so that I
should have to say I must go. So I think he had better wait
for a less hurried month. Certainly the roads have not been
favourable to bicycles or anything else of late !

Your writing looks as if your arm was well, but I suppose you
have been quite shut up in this snowy time. — With love to Emma,
yours affectionately, C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, October i, 1878.

My dear Florence — I am glad you have finished your journey
prosperously, and I hope you have brought home a store of
strength for the winter and for the trials.

How one sometimes wishes that one's people may never have
another worry, and yet I suppose it is all right ! I have just
lost my most good and wise friend Marianne Dyson. For more
than a year she had been in so utterly feeble and broken a state
that one could only dread further loss of faculties, and there was
a good deal of weariness though not acute suffering, so that it
was really thankworthy to know that rest had come on St.
Michael's morning. I have known her thirty-five years, and she

320 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

has been a great help and blessing throughout my life. Scarcely
a story of mine but has been read and discussed with her, and I
don't know any one I owe so much to after my father and mother
and Mr. Keble. Anna Bramston was there, being a friend of
her companion Miss Leroy. Mary Bramston spent last evening
here, her farewell before going to Truro ; Gertrude is better, but
cannot walk at all now. I am so glad you are able to " take up
your pen," as poor people's letters say. I hope the ideas will
flow if you do not call them too hard. — Your aifectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, y«/y 2, i88i.

My dear Florence — It is a very good story, but I wish it had
not been about an election, for I have another election story
which I cannot throw over. It is by my poor old friend Fanny
Wilbraham, who is so nearly blind that it is a wonder she has
written it at all, and it is really very good. It is the conduct of a
Cheshire peasant the other day, but she has put it back 100
years, and considering all things I think you would not wish me
to put hers aside. She is so good that I know she would say
the same, but somehow I think, as she is the oldest and the
blindest, and the most broken altogether, I must give her the
preference, and I am sure your story will easily get in anywhere,
for it is very spirited.

Our new vicar is a total abstainer ; he is a capital man and a
thorough churchman, and the place is taking to him much. Our
poor schoolmaster had been devoted to Mr. Elgee, and died in
less than a week after Mr. Brock came ; there was illness enough
to account for it, but the crisis had come, and it seemed as if he
might have lived if he had only had energy to strive for life, and
try to take food. But the beauty of his goodness was something
remarkable. He came from Clevedon, where Mr. Saxby says he
first knew him as a blameless choir-boy always able to quiet
disputes among rougher lads. The first gains of his work as a
schoolmaster he spent on a little print of the Crucifixion for the
choir vestry at Clevedon, and since his death we have found that

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 321

all his life he gave away a third of all that he had ! Our boys
were in a very naughty state when he came, but he made them
behave better than ever they did before, at home as well as at
school. He would have been quite ideal if he had been a httle
cleverer and brisker, but then he might not have been as good.
I think we have a nice youth who came to help while he was ill,
and all hke.^ I am glad the General is better, and that you
are all able to have a change. Gertrude is at Dr. England's,^ as
some repair was wanted in her room, and elsewhere and the
house not habitable for her. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, October lo, 1890.

My dear Florence — I am very glad to hear of you again, and
I hope the touch of frost will not be felt at Bournemouth ; it has
spared all our flowers as yet. I waited to write because Christabel
was coming to make up our plans for the new volume. We will
try to put in " Purification " poem for February, but I am afraid
poems do not get much payment. I wish I could put more
work in her way. I forget whether you know Miss Hill, who
stays with the Jones Batemans sometimes ; she is lame from old
hip cornplaint, but gets about on her crutches. She is sister to
Mr. Rowland Hill. I am afraid the Newbery Magazine is a
tardy affair, as all magazines are, unless they begin by being hard-
hearted and summary. I don't much like what I have seen of it.
Christabel asks to be remembered to you. She is my original
old Gosling, and she and I have been going over our old brood,
and what a remarkable set they have been, for good, and alas !
sometimes for the reverse, but there are a good many that I am
proud of.

I am hurried and must finish. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

1 Mr. Rolfe, the present schoolmaster.

2 Dr. England was the family physician. His son attended Miss Yonge
in her last illness.

Y

322 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Cazenove

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, September 21, 1875.

My dear Annie — I believe that the fact of having the renewal
of the baptismal vow united in our branch of the Church with
Confirmation has very much tended to confuse people's minds as
to what it really is.

A Sacrament it surely is in the sense, as you say, that it is an
outward sign of an inward grace, and there is no reasonable doubt
that it is Apostolic. The laying on of hands by St. Peter and
John at Samaria after the baptism by St. Philip the deacon was
clearly confirmation since it could not be ordination, as it was
general and immediate, evidently supplying what had been left
wanting from baptism, and so again at Ephesus (Acts xix. 6)
it was plainly the ordinary lay Christian on whom St. Paul laid
hands. What was done by apostles in the days immediately after
Pentecost is evidently of divine appointment, and there is no lack
of proof, from the manner in which they mention it as " the Seal "
and the Unction, that they considered it as necessary to salvation
as giving us our share as a royal priesthood in Christ's anointing,
and also as marking us off, by the seal of the Holy Spirit, to be
saved in the Great Day. The Greek Church still calls it the
Seal. I worked it all out as much as I could some years ago,
and I send you a little book about it, as doing so will save me
writing it out, and it seems to me to tell what you ask. — ^Yours
affectionately, C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
March 30.

My dear Annie — These are such deep, wide questions that
one cannot answer them off-hand. The Three analogy goes much
further in nature and in grace. For instance, three parts of our-
selves : body, soul, spirit. Three primary colours : red, blue
yellow. Three pioneers of the sun's rays : light, heat, actinism.
Three kinds of life : angel, man, brute. Three animal orders :
beast, bird, fish. Three natural kingdoms : animal, vegetable,
mineral. Three orders of ministers : bishops, priests, deacons.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 323

The three covenants are, I think, right, but Marriage and the
Commandments, to abstain from murder, are universal as moral ;
I should put them as divine institutions belonging to the universal
law, the ten Commandments to the second covenant. Christian
rule to the third.

Then the Christian rule divides, as you say, into Christ's direct
law, the Apostolic (ruled by the Holy Spirit, bringing His prin-
ciples into practice) and Ecclesiastical, which is defined in the
twentieth Article.

I think the Lord's Day is more divine than apostolical if you
remember the discourse in John v., but I do not think you can
say that corruption was only in ecclesiastic ordinance. The
whole system of adoration of the Blessed Virgin and the Saints
transgresses a divine command, as does much of the teaching
about Masses for special souls in Purgatory, Indulgences, etc.

I think you confuse a little about the ranks of the clergy ;
the only necessary and universal ones are the three orders. The
Archbishop or Metropolitan is only primus inter fares, a sort of
chairman to the rest, introduced for convenience sake ; you know
the American Church simply gives the precedence to the Senior
Bishop, so the Archdeacon (who used to be really a deacon) is
really only the Bishop's officer, and his special duties are peculiar
to our branch of the church ; Canons ought to be the Council of
the Bishop round his Cathedra or chair. Dean is the ruler over
Ten, ten canons ; when a rural dean ten parishes. These are only
officers, not ranks, and are not in the least essentials. Did you
ever read Mrs. Mercier's Our Mother Chicrch, or meet with Dr.
Hook's Church Dictionary ? I think those would clear up a good
deal for you.

I am afraid for the teaching of the Church about a person
dying in known unrepented sin, one can only turn to the teaching
of the Head of the Church about the rich man in the intermediate
state. The Church judges no individual except by her inter-
diction of the burial service to the excommunicate and suicides.

Your odds and ends are useful, and shall come in some time
or other. I have no time for more. — -Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

324 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

To Miss Annie Moberly

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
April 12, 1894.

My dear Annie — I am very glad you have had such a peace-
ful soothing time, and that Mrs. Cazenove and her daughters
have had so much comfort. It is very good for you to be with
your good friends. Tottie sent you a book yesterday, which I
hope may be sent on.

Thank you for so kindly receiving what I ventured to say.
I have written sharply to the editor of the Church Illustrated
for putting in commendation of the book. When one recollects
that every word in the Gospel is sacred, and that the history is
the direct Inspiration of God the Holy Ghost, it seems to me
too terrible to twist them into suiting a person's own ideas of
a tragedy.^

I do not think you quite understood what I said about the
effects on oneself. I did not mean that I thought you believed
it. But I will give you an instance. It does not signify what
I think about the death of Julius Cssar, but whenever I read
the history of it there occurs the question, did he really say
"Et tu, Brute," and was it to Marcus Brutus or to Decimus
Brutus ? and all the Shakespeare scene.

This is no harm of course, but would not something like it
occur when one wanted to concentrate mind and soul on the
great crisis of our Redemption, when one wants heart and soul
to be full of the reality and the infinite spiritual meanings of
every word and deed ?

I know people differ about the reading of " doubtful books."
I did consider it once, as you say, for the sake of other people,
for you know questions are asked me, and I have to write
letters. Dean Butler decidedly told me I need not, and I will
tell you why I think it is a questionable thing for women to do.
I do not mean if one was asked distinctly to read and give an
opinion on any one book seriously ; then I suppose one must
do so, but to read popular undesirable books for the chance

^ I think this must refer to Barabbas, by Marie Corelli.

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 325

of discussion seems to me not good for one's own mind, and
very doubtful for others' sake.

Clergymen may and must do it. They have greater safety
than a woman can have, being trained in theology, the history
of opinions, and in logic. Now we women hardly ever get
such training, and for want of logic do not see the ' danger of
proving a truth by an insufficient proof, which can be over-
thrown. We cannot take in all the bearings, and it is apt to
come simply to likes and dislikes in the main. Then too,
without upsetting one's faith, I do believe that the tone of one's
mind is hurt by reading such things. And I do think that a
woman produces more effect by what she is than by a thousand
talks and arguments. You may show what I say to Canon
Jelf.

The lame child goes to the Orthopedic hospital on Saturday.
— Your affectionate C. M. Yonge.

{On Mr. Keble^s Views on some important Matters^

{^Undated, but after 1893.]

My dear Annie — I can only be quite sure that Mr. Keble
never taught me at my Confirmation anything about Fasting
Communion. When he first came monthly celebrations began
here at mid-day the last Sunday in the month, his idea then
being that he would come over and assist. So Hursley was
fortnightly mid-day first and last Sundays ; Ampfield began on
the third. Then it was begun at Hursley early on the inter-
mediate Sundays, and I remember its being said that the poor
women could come to it then.

I am sure he never commended Fasting Communion to me,
nor lamented the omission, though I have a dim idea that once
when talking about the expedience of the presence of non-
communicants, which he deprecated as a rule, he mentioned
the wishing to fast as a possible reason with some, but I am
not sure. Early celebrations were certainly never insisted on
in this church in his time, but Mr. Wither's refusal to me when
I proposed it was after his death — I do not think it was thought
of before. I cannot tell about his own practice, the only time

326 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

I spent a Sunday at Hursley being when I was very young.
Jimmy Young would know better. It is quite possible that his
habits grew more strict as time went on, but I am quite sure
he did not teach me to practise it, and that he deprecated the
attendance without communicating as a rule (for I discussed
it with him), only wishing for it for children as part of their
immediate preparation for First Communion. — ^Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Note. — Miss Yonge always told me that Mr. Keble's views on
this subject were those expressed in this letter. — C. R. Coleridge.

To THE Lady Frederick Bruce

Elderfield, November 23.

My dear Lady Frederick — Gillian ^ was very naughty, rather I
think from want of knowledge of the world than anything else,
besides spirit of opposition. I am glad you like Jane, somehow
she has erected herself to me into the heroine. I find myself
living in sympathy with my old people rather than the young.
But I really do shrink from bringing Dr. May and Ethel on the
stage again, he must be grown so old. I have not finished the
last chapter to see whether I dare to make a great family
gathering.

I am glad to have the opportunity of writing to you, as we
have had a grand M. U. Council, and have modified the con-
stitution. All the married, whether ladies or poor women, are to
be members ; only ladies are paying members, and a proportion
are to be enroUers (hke the G.F.S. working associates). All the
unmarried helpers are associates, and the members are all to
have the same card, which we freshly worded to suit mothers of
all ranks, and I think improved it much. There is also to be a
quarterly magazine at a penny, edited by Mrs. Jenkyns, South
Stoneham, Southampton, who takes orders for it, and begs that
the money may be advanced with the orders, so as to give her a
start.

' In Beechcroft at Rockstone.

XI. LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 327

It is to have advice and anecdotes, and a little direct religious
instruction for the very ignorant mothers, in the form of question
and answer. I have been writing that, but it was to be sub-
mitted to the Bishop. — Yours very truly,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, February 27.

My dear Lady Frederick — I am afraid I cannot give you
more than a week, and that the 6th must be the last possible day.
I believe I am going to look over the MSS. with Mrs. Sumner
and send them off on the i st, but we can add your report at the
end. I hope you are really recovered from the influenza. People
are having it at Winchester, but rather slightly.

I always thought vaguely that the Mays lived somewhere
between Malvern and Wales, but I was called to account for
having put crayfish into their rivers. I am always a little afraid
of specifically localising unless I know a place intimately. Nor
am I sure where Bexley was (did I say Swindon for the junction).
I meant the watering-place to be on the Dorset or Devon coast,
and Rock Quay had Torquay in its eye. I am sorry to say my
coadjutors think it will not do to return thither in the Packet.
There are not enough kind old friends like you to make the
publishers approve. So when I have time I must finish it singly,
but I am hurrying up a National Society story, and I want to do
a mother's meeting set of readings on the services of the Sundays
of the year. Mrs. Sumner's energies are going into the school-
boy education subject. — Yours sincerely,

C. M. YONGE.

To THE Rev. Vere Awdry

Elderfield, November 29.

Dear Mr. Awdry — I can quite believe that humble words of
Mr. Keble might be misunderstood, misreported, and exaggerated,
and if called on to defend every single line in the Christian Year,
he might have spoken of it as a man, growing in grace, at sixty
years old might speak of his utterances at thirty.

328 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

But I can distinctly declare that he never repented of the
book as a whole, nor regretted its publication, and that it is quite
a mistake to suppose that he ever did so.

I knew he disliked in his " selflessness " to have conversation
about the book, so that if I wanted explanation I referred to his
wife or sister, and I know that he was always in the same mind
about it. We often observed how his sermons chimed in with it
not intentionally, but showing the same bent of thought.

I can believe, however, that he may have expressed that some
parts might have been improved by a more matured mind.
Every one so feels I imagine, and I think he felt that if he had
known what its popularity would be, he would have been more
guarded, if I may say so, in some expressions.

But I am sure he never changed as to its doctrines. He once
said to me, "A successful book may be the trial of one's life,"
but that was in the same sense as " Praise be thy penance here."

But it is impossible to make some people understand such
humility. — Yours sincerely, C. M. Yonge.

To the Family of Mr. Bigg- Wither

April 28, 1897.

. . . But I must tell you of something that has given me the
greatest pleasure. About two years ago a lady belonging to the
Mission at Calcutta wrote to me that a Hindu student had been
so much impressed with the Pillars of the House as to accept
Christianity, and that he was going to be baptized. So I sent
out one of those illuminated cards that are given at baptisms
(Henry Bowles finding me one not adapted to a little baby, as
most are !). By the time it arrived he had drawn back, though
they were so good as not to disappoint me by telling me. But
he has now come all right, and has been baptized.

His friends have sent me this thankworthy letter of his, which
I am sure you will like to read. Please return it. It makes
one's heart glow. I am sending him out a photo of house and
garden. — Your very affectionate C. M. Yonge.

The oak-trees in Cranbury Park are surpassingly lovely in
tints.

x,i LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 329

Elderfield, May 20, 1897.

My dearest Marianne — Raby will have told you that my dear
home companion's long patience has ended.

She was really dying ever since last evening, though the end
did not come till one o'clock to-day, holding my hand, and asking
Henry's prayers all the time till consciousness was gone, not many
minutes before the end. I do not think in the relief I feel the
difference it will make to me.

Your strawberries were really welcome to me — one of the few
things she could take. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

11,^ iS9».

Dearest Marianne — I have the sketch-book still (only it is at
the bottom of some dusty hoards, which I have not time to
irritate to-day) with all our party on Bishopstoke Hill. Dear
Marianne, it is much to be thankful for to have a real friend of
one's youth on into " hoar hairs," and friends and household
do all they can to make it a bright day. Emily Awdry comes
for two days to-day. She will be in time to see those lovely
pancratiums in their glory. My flowers were gathered and
made up yesterday ; they are not so beautiful as yours, but they
have the merit of lasting.

Do you remember that Amaranth on the lucus a non lucendo
principle was Mr. Wither's New College name ? I have a bunch
that has lasted on a whole year. (Botanically I know these are
not amaranths.)

Yes, my dear Charles Yonge, gone now fifty years ago, had
the same birthday. I have been routing out the record of old
scenes at Puslinch, which delight Helen greatly, and bring back
old faces long gone. — Your most affectionate

C. M. YoNGE.

Here the series of birthday letters^ seems to
end. When August ii, 1899, came she was able to

^ Her birthday.
^ She wrote on her birthday regularly to Miss M. A. Bigg-Wither.

330 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

drive in to Winchester to see her old friend, and
that year the intercourse by letter seems to have
been very brisk. Mr. William Bigg- Wither had
long been failing, and died at Easter, and there are
almost daily notes to him, his sister, or the nieces
who were nursing him.

March 17.

I had not heard for a fortnight, and had just made up my
mind to write to ask Raby whether you knew anything, and
when I saw your writing I knew how it must be. This gradual,
gentle sinking is the most merciful way of going one can think of,
though I hope that there may not be the restlessness that belongs
to weakness and is so very distressing. I shall ask Henry Bowles
to pray for him, especially on Sunday when the people are there.
I hope it is peaceful sleepiness, and that your niece or one of
the nephews can be with him. The last letter I had, now more
than a fortnight ago, spoke of going to church at eleven and
preaching from his chair.

To Mrs. Harcourt Mitchell

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, _/«/)/ 31, 1899.

My dear Mrs. Mitchell — Thank you for your conversation. It
reminds me of what I tried to impress on some of the promoters
of Lady Margaret Hall, that the Old Colleges began with train-
ing for the church the first object, and the secular work a sort
of appendage, the Christian training running through. And I
tried to shadow it out in that drawing of Geraldine's in the
Pillars of the House, of the Christian School of Athens. If you
happen to have the book you will see the ideal.

I think the Talbots would have been glad to have such a
college, but times are too strong, and Elizabeth Wordsworth and
Anne Moberly at St. Hugh's do make their colleges in many
respects training for the Church. — Yours sincerely,

C. M. YONGE.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 331

To Miss Anderson Morshead

Jamiary 19, 1869.

My dear Mary — Thank you so much for your long letter and
history of all your doings.^ I am sure if usefulness makes a
happy life this ought to be one, and you must have much of
kindness and of the sense of a living Church round you to fill
you with energy. I do not know whether you have ever felt a
sort of sense of the absence of the whole salt of life in being
with people who had not gone on to the energetic influences of
the Church. I don't quite know whether I am writing sense, but I
do remember such a weary flat feeling at one place I stayed at,
where the people were highly cultivated, but their energy and
interest in Church matters seemed to have died out. I told
F. W. that you had been saying her verses about the Tree to the
Bishop, and she only hoped you remembered that some of them
were a quotation from Dr. Neale. I shall be very glad if you
can send me a paper on Church work, but in general I had made
it a rule to leave missionary papers to the Net, because they do
get so frittered and dispersed among too many magazines, but I
do not think that Church work in Cape Town exactly comes
under this category, and there is no harm in making an
exception sometimes. The Illustrated News is so good as to
say that but for its sectarian character the Monthly Packet
would take a high rank among magazines, and I do not wish
to diminish that character, though I do not wish to increase it.
How do you get on with your Dutch ? It looks as if it must be
like speaking very broad Somersetshire. You will have heard
how Anne and I went into Devon together ; I saw your mother
and all your sisters. What a very nice face Beatrice's is. But
they were not at home when I called with Elizabeth Colborne.
Reginald and Frank Colborne are come to Winchester to be in
the same house with Ernest Morshead ; it must be a tremendous
change for them, coming so suddenly too. I am staying away
from home for a few days, and so getting time to write my letters.
I fancy I shall make a good many little excursions this year,

1 Miss Anderson Morshead was working under Bishop Gray in Cape Colony.

332 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

including one to Normandy, but you had better always write to
me at home, as a letter there will be sure to find me. The
Goslings are come to life again, and I am expecting a flight of
answers in a few days, indeed the very day when I hope you
will be seeing Bishop Macrorie consecrated. Archbishop Tait's
appointment pretty thoroughly settled that matter. I hear that
the building of Keble College is getting on very nicely and that
Mr. Edwin Palmer is talked of for the head. Fernseed and I
hope to stay at New College together in the first week in June.
Will not that be most delightful? I am afraid this is a very
stupid letter, but you will write to me again I hope, and tell me
how you are going on, and what your work settles into. — Your
affectionate cousin, C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, October 8, 1869.

My dear Mary — It seems as if all of the letters one wrote to
you began with sorrow, for now six weeks nearly after that great
blow at Puslinch,^ it still seems as if it had but first happened.
I thought of you at once, for I think you were one who very
much loved and looked up to her, and to whom she had put out
a great deal of her power of sympathy, as I am sure you took up
a great deal of her thoughts. What a comfort it is that one can
give thanks for those departed in faith and fear ; one feels it more
when so many of those one mentioned^ in early life are gone
"behind the veil." Miss Arthur has sent me your letter of
introduction, so I wrote to her that I hoped she would let me
know if she was coming to Miss Mackenzie, but Miss M. is from
home now. You will have heard of her begging for extracts
from your letters, they have been so kind as to copy out some
from the Net. Tell Edith Crawley that I am going to Tyntesfield
next week, and the week after to Church Crookham, and then I
go to London for a day to see Dr. Moberl/s consecration. We
are very happy in some of our new Bishops, our own selves
especially and Oxford. I wish I knew any ladies to send you,

^ The death of Anne Yonge.

^ Mentioned in prayer. This letter shows the extreme reticence in religious
expressions which was a note of her tone of mind.

XII LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 333

but everybody seems to have some work of their own, or else is
not allowed.

I am printing the Catechism from the monthly paper separately,
but I had not thought of the lessons for small children. I
believe it is a bad time for publishing, it is difficult to stir
printers up to do anything one wants. Since my last letter to
you I have been seeing Paris ; I found my preconceived notions
upset, I admired Notre Dame a great deal more than I expected,
the solemnity of the five aisles is so great, and the Ste. Chapelle
disappointed me — I think it has never been reconsecrated since
Marat had his orgies there, and though it is splendidly repainted
there is no altar, and it is only used for Gape Seed. The grand
St. Michael at the Louvre, and Marie Antoinette's cell at the
Conciergerie were the two things that I cared for most. So
much of the old is taken away that there are few really historical
bits, even the place where the Swiss Guard fought is gone,
though at Versailles we did see Marie Antoinette's balcony, and
the door Madame Anguier defended. Versailles oppressed me
like a great terrible tragedy, between the guilt there and the
doom upon it. Your letter came while I was abroad, I found
it on my return. — Your affectionate cousin,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, April 30.
{Undated, many years later. 'X

My dear Mary — This is Mr. C.'s paper; please return it as
I want to keep the Hursley papers. I did not see the original
articles, nor have I read the horrid book,i but the day that the
Church Times had its article came one of A.'s letters admiring
it. I wrote strongly to her on the danger of being fascinated
with such books, and the horrid irreverence, and I also wrote
to the Ch. T. saying what you see. Then they put in
what you also see, and there followed on Saturday this clergy-
man's defence. I wrote and sent yesterday pretty much what I
had said to Annie of the shocking irreverence of "flights of

1 This was Barabbas, and her letter was not an attack on the book, but on
a certain review of the book. — M. A. M.

334 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

imagination " and " inaccuracy " in dealing with inspired writings
and the Death ; I durst not say more for fear of betraying my not
having read it. And all this did settle Annie, also finding the
Thompsons had been shocked from the first, and she gave in
nicely. I dwelt too, both to her and in this letter of yesterday,
on the evil of fictitious narratives coming into one's head on
Good Friday ; but, as my letter went yesterday, I don't like to
add what you say to go by the next post in the same writing.
Only I think it would be very good for all concerned if you
would be so good as to write a letter to the editor putting in
what you have said to me and anything besides. Of course the
editor must have your name, but you need not sign it in your
own. There must be a fascination in the book ; I believe she is
a woman given to spiritualism, perhaps on her way to better
things. Dear old Mary comes on here after Sidmouth ! Milton's
minor poems seem to have been written at intervals all through
his better days. Thanks for these emendations ; I think the
papers must have been misprints. — Your affectionate

C. M. Y.

Please do this to the paper; it ought to be assailed on all
sides. They say the Guardian commended it. It was some
time ago, and my impression is that it treated it slightly, as not
so bad as it might be. Mr. C. ought to know he has done a
shocking thing in recommending such a book ; the more censure
he has the better.

Elderfield, November 3, 189-.

My dear Mary — I send you the Melanesian paper; would
you do as the Bishop asks, and send him your address and two
stamps, and so get the paper regularly sent to you ? Partridge
sends me a terrible number, and now they are not to be gratis to
subscribers. We have told them to send in their names to Bishop
Selwyn ; it is getting rid of a good deal of bother.

Moreover, the Monthly Packet has turned me out except as a
contributor. It has been going down, Newbery and Atalanta
supplant it, and the old friends are nearly all gone, and the young
ones call it goody-goody. So the old coachman who has driven

x„ LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 335

it for forty years is called on to retire ! They are very civil about
it, and want me to be called Consulting Editor, but that is non-
sense, for they don't consult me. It is not Christabel's fault, but
A. D. I. wants to be modern, though still good and churchy, and
I don't like to be scolded ^ for what I have not sanctioned, so it
is a relief in that way. It is property, and no wonder Mr. Innes
views it as such, and not as a thing pro ecclesia. Don't withdraw
your questions, they want to go on with them, and they do good,
and above all, don't speak of my withdrawal as ill-usage, but only
as Anno Domini, which it may be more than is in the nature of
things that I should understand, for I think I am as much to
the fore as ever. Only most of my old friends have passed; and it
is not the same. I go on with cameos and perhaps with stories,
certainly with some conchology.

I am reading your book, and will mention it. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

To Miss Helen Yonge
(On the Death of Mr. JuliaJi Yonge)

Elderfield, October lo, 1892.

My dear Helen — Mr. Brock brought me in both the telegrams
and was very kind. Of course what all knew must be sooner
or later could not be a great shock, but all my letters were going
with accounts of his having borne the journey so well. It is
better for mamma and all of you to have had no lingering, and
no associations for the new house. I hope she is keeping up
well ; I don't write to burthen her. You can tell me what I can
do for you, but I suppose we cannot hear till Tuesday.

Poor Harriet has been saying how he used to sit on her
knee and kiss her when he was a tiny child. Well, he was very
faithful and very loving, though we are all reserved, and it is
another link with where our hearts should be. Poor Gertrude's
leg is very bad. — Your most affectionate C. M. Yonge.

4.30. — George and Lucy have been here, and wish to
offer a bed if it is wanted.

1 The old readers often objected to inevitable changes.

336 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

Elderfield, April 27, 189-.

My dear Helen — Thank you for the £?>, which I found
safely on coming home from hearing the first day of the diocesan
conference.

Poor old Graf, it is not every dog who is buried by the parish
clerk, with me walking in solemn procession of one all down the
walk behind. I am glad you were spared the catastrophe, and
that mamma has Koko to divert her mind. I am afraid Mr.
Brock will go to Guernsey, so there is no end of the changes.

The Miss Jacobs are going to have Miss Finlaison's house
for the summer holidays, which will be pleasant for me. That
Mr. Eames who has bought Silkstead is beginning to build a house
on the Winchester road, and has put in a keeper at Silkstead who
warns people off the white violets on the bank at Green Undys.

It must have been very delightful seeing Mr. Beck's hoards
and hearing their history, — as good as a museum. My berberis
has just become beautiful, but it is very cold to-day. — ^Your
affectionate aunt, C. M. Yonge.

To Mrs. Julian Yonge

My dear Frances — We buried the poor old fellow with all
honours. Charles wheeled down the barrow, I followed, and we
put him where his predecessors are, coming on two of their
coffins before we found the right place. Poor old fellow, he
loved his own way, and it was well for all that he should not
grow old.

To Mrs. George Romanes

Elderfield, Otterbourne, April 29.

My dear Mrs. Romanes — I have been reading the book^
before thanking you for it, and telling you how grateful I am
for being allowed to see something of so beautiful a character.
Especially I had never understood that religious principles and
aspirations had been a thing of early days, so that it was truly
" our Childhood's Star again arising " after an eclipse which had

1 The Life of George Romanes.

xii LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 337

not been of the spirit and love of right and purity, but of the
intellect, bewildered by search into things visible and substantial.
I am sure it will be a great help to many who get lost in the
mist.

Of course I do not enter into those innermost scientific
researches, but I have loved and inquired into the out-works
of physical knowledge quite enough to enter into a great deal,
especially on the botanical side, and about instinct.

You must have found Oxford in its greatest beauty. — ^Yours
very sincerely, C. M. Yonge.

To THE Editor of the Guardian

Elderfield, Otterbournb,
December 3, 1896.

Dear Sir — I must write and thank you, and ask you to thank
the writer of the very kind and appreciative notice of my books.^

The balance of praise and detection of weakness (though
most kindly letting the former preponderate) is just what I have
wished to see. I think that what pleases me best is the full
recognition that the religious and conscientious men of the stories
had their actual counterparts, and though no doubt needing
more manly power to be thorough delineations, still by no means
the impossible monsters they are sometimes declared to be. It
was no small advantage and responsibility to have grown up
among good men and women j and to their influence and, in
earlier times, their actual criticism all that is best in my work is
owing.

It is an absolute pleasure, though not unmixed with regret
and humiliation, to have read such a criticism, and I should like to
thank both you and "M. E. C." for it. — Yours truly,

C. M. Yonge.

1 A notice which appeared in the Guardian, written by Miss M. E.
Christie.

338 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

To Miss M. E. Christie

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, December 8, 1896.

Dear M. E. C. — I feel strongly impelled to write to you
both to thank you for your letter and for St. Christopher's legend.
A German lady once sent me a set of photographs of frescoes of
his history, where he is going through all sorts of temptations,
including one by evil women.

I think I must tell you that the Daisy Chain was written
just when I was fresh from the influence and guiding of my
father. Not that he was in the least like Dr. May, being a
soldier with the highest chivalrous sense of nobleness and justice,
and moreover with a strong desire to see, and do everything in
the best way possible.

I remember his exclaiming, when Norman's health began
to fail, " You don't mean to kill him ? " and that seems to
me to mark how far I had gone on in that story. The Heir
of Redclyffe he had looked over and criticised with all his-
might.

Another advantage that the Daisy Chain had was, that coming
out in monthly parts there was a good deal of friendly, often
merry discussion of the characters, with such friends as Mr. and
Mrs. Keble, Miss Dyson, and Dr. Moberly (later Bishop of
Salisbury). So that external influence had much to do with the
developments.

It has always had the best sale of aU my books, yet when I
read both it and the Pillars of the House over, for the sake of
taking up the broken threads, as well as to see them with older
eyes, I found myself preferring the latter, as brighter, and on the
whole less pedantic than is the effect of Ethel in parts, and with
more of hope throughout.

I think I must mention that Guizot's public recommendation
of the Heir of Redclyffe led to the only thoroughly spiteful review
tliat ever befell me, in Household Words, written, I imagine, by
some blindly jealous admirer of Dickens.

Heartsease was the last book Lord Raglan read, I was told by
Admiral Sir Stewart who lent it to him. And Mr.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 339

Butterfield was said to be in search of Ethel for a wife. But
Mrs. T. Mozley had set the fashion of reading books on child
life. By the bye, I wish you would write a notice of the Fairy
Bower and Lost Brooch, also of Louisa, with their wonderful
cleverness and irony.

Grace and Mary Anne always remind me of Dr. Newman's
controversy with Kingsley about truth, the same which resulted
in the Apologia.

I have inflicted a long letter on you, but when I once began
I could not help going on. — Yours sincerely,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
Winchester, December lo, 1896.

Dear Miss Christie — I think I must lend you my Fairy
Bower. It was written, as you see, nearly sixty years ago,
before the Oxford Movement had become a visible fact, by
Mrs. Thomas Mozley, while her husband was vicar of Cholder-
ton. She was Harriet Newman, and though the little book is
quite in children's form, it was such as none but a Newman
could write.

A little girl, Grace Leslie, goes with her widow mother to stay
with a Christmas party. She is a very pretty picture of uncon-
scious cleverness, mixed with conscientiousness and refinement
of perfect simplicity. She is thrown with two families, one of
the suburban evangelical type, rather vulgar, and infinitely self-
complacent, despising their cousins as worldly. The elders talk
just enough to make you understand the situation, but the effect
is shown in the characters of the children, praise-loving (one
honestly, the other dishonestly), sentimental, or really quietly
good and despised by the self-righteous but really good sister.
The visitor Grace invents a pretty- decoration, the Fairy Bower,
and chiefly contrives the whole, but the honour of the idea is
tacitly stolen from her by one of the Puritan family, and her sense
of the shame of the discovery of the action to the poor girl leads her
to connive at leaving her the triumph, so that the difference between
truth and truthfulness is brought out. There is an unnatural

340 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

amount of sensation about such a matter among the elders, but
the touches of character are excellent. Some people cannot see
anything in the story, and one never can judge what another
person will think of it. The Lost Brooch continues the history
when the girls are grown up, and is more development of
character than story, though there is a good deal of that in the
sentimental girl's folly, and the Puritanical sister's persecution of
a servant girl, whom she supposes to have stolen the Lost Brooch.
The absolute inability to see truth or do justice runs through all.
If you are taken with Grace in the Fairy Bower, I can lend you
the Lost Brooch. My original copy was lent and lost, so this
was recovered from a second-hand bookseller. There was some
displeasure at Grace's reticence towards her mother, which was
hardly natural in an only daughter, though it might be in a large
family, and I really think both my Abbey Church and Miss
Sewell's Amy Herbert both came from the reaction.

I did not know Mrs. Mozley, and only saw her once in the
middle of a " function." A year or two later her health failed,
and when she tried to write again she collapsed entirely and
died. Mr. F. Palgrave once asked me to write a review of her,
but I think it was while my Fairy Bower was lost, and I did not
know what to do with such a paper.

Thank you for your paper on the Russian novelists, they are
strange productions of the civilised thought forced on by the
despotism.

I read George Eliot when it came out, but whether I am
thinking out of it, or out of a review by Mr. Ashwell long before,
I cannot tell. It seems to me that she could represent but not
create, and that when she had lived with a world she did not
really know, her ideals were absurd, as in Deronda.

Lewes, I believe, never let her see an unfavourable review,
which was a great mistake, they teach one much. But a real
review — not a mere notice — is so seldom to be seen in these
days, and I am the more grateful for yours.

I see what you mean about the want of focus in Pillars, but
I think I care for Felix and Lance more than Dr. May or Ethel,
though of these last I could not touch them really again and only
mentioned them in that last scene to satisfy "inquiring friends."

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 341

There are some people one feels to need further development,
others that it is better to let alone.

I should much like to know what you think of the Fairy
Bower, though I am quite prepared to hear that you are too
much of a different era to care for it. — Yours sincerely,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
December 1$ (? 1896).

Dear Miss Christie — If I could I would help you to an
autograph, but I have long ago given away such of Mr. Keble's
as were not too personal and precious, and I do not think I
have any left except some scraps of correction on the proofs
of hymns in the Child's Christian Year, such as you would hardly
care for.

• I well know the pressure of Guardian books, but as I am as
devoted to Sunday-school work at seventy as I was at seven I
am always sustained by the hope of finding something appropriate
thereto, and at this time of year this carries me through floods
of milk and water and spoon meat. It is much to come on one
really superior book in a batch.

No wonder you cannot read or write with a holiday boy to
"tackle," as our old women say. — Yours truly,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, Otterbourne,
November ig, 1897.

My dear Miss Christie — I had just been thinking of you,
being reminded of your work by the review of Mrs. Ritchie's
books, one which carries one along with it entirely, though I am
not sure that her power is not greater in sketches of character
in real life than in the construction of stories. Indeed she is
too true to nature to satisfy one always with poetical justice,
which, after all, one does love.

The sketch of Miss Mitford is specially good. I remember
a sense of disappointment as I drove through " Our village '' to
see how small and narrow it was, after what those rose-coloured
spectacles had shown.

342 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

I hope you are going to "do " Mrs. Oliphant in the same
manner. She is a person who always puzzles me, partly because
she can rise so much higher than what I suppose are "pot-
boilers,"' half of which I have never read. The Beleaguered
City seems to me the best of all her work — yet there she seems,
as I have heard it observed of her other works, to sit outside
and look at enthusiasm (often on the seamy side) and not share
in it. The shrewdness and ironical observation are charming,
but I could never love her books or people except the two old
people in Valentine. Those " Lookers On " in Blackwood are
some of her best writing, giving scope for her peculiar tone and
high principle. But she never understood English poor, and
though she could deal with Scotch servants, she always
made unpleasant pictures of the English poor when they are
needed by the story — nor is she generally good to clergymen's
wives.

About the Fairy Bower, I have been thinking a good deal
over it, and I think if you do not feel as if you had time to
undertake it that I should like to write a notice myself at some
length, as remembering something of the state of society and
thought at the time the books were written.

Like you I have to attend to what is sent me, but they keep
me a good deal on children and poor people's books, and I
don't complain, for I really want them for various libraries and
school gifts. But I get very frivolous about Christmas, though
really children's books are better to read than most novels of
the day.

Don't you think that throwing over dread of vulgarity has
had a good deal to do with the want of refinement of speech,
together with the relaxation of the strictness of Evangelicalism
which really made a conscientious life easier on the total
abstinence principle.

I have had a sorrowful year in the death of the invalid friend
who lived with me, and was my memory, and since that my
relations have given me a good deal of variety, hardly favourable
to work ! — Yours sincerely, C. M. Yonge.

x.i LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 343

To Miss C. Fortescue Yonge

{On the Presentation of the Scholarship^

Elderfield, /a/y 20, 1899.

My dear Lottie — I put off writing till the 19th was over,
for it really was a very interesting day, though I little knew
beforehand all they were going to make of it. About ;!^i8oo
was collected for the scholarship, and this was presented, with
a beautifully illuminated address, by the Bishop in the High
School, making a wonderful speech about having read the
Little Duke when he was a small boy, and all that had turned up
about the usefulness of the books. Also they gave me a
basket of flowers — daisies, heartsease and the like, with violet
ribbons to represent the violet, as of course there were none to
be had, and ropes of daisy chain hung all about. Afterwards
the girls made some very pretty tableaux from the stories, the
Little Duke, the Caged Lion, and the Chaplet of Pearls, and had
a daisy-chain dance in thin white frocks. It really was as pretty
a sight as ever was ; the pity was that I had none of my own
people with me, for Alethea's children have all been having
the measles, and are not out yet, and Henry is gone to Switzer-
land to meet his sisters, and have a good bracing holiday. Alley
will take the children to lodgings at Dorking or near it as soon
as they are safe, and I go to stay with Frances on the 9th
August. She goes in September to her sisters, and then I shall
have Helen for a little while. There is a Mr. Ffinch coming
for locum tenens for the month of August, to lodge at Miss
Finlaison's.

There has been a bazaar for Chandler's Ford Church, and
they made jQ^o, but I am afraid they are still a long way from
their church yet. I am sorry you have not a better account
of Emma to give ; I hope she will go from home . and get a rest.
How hot it is ! But the beautiful day was a great ingredient
in the success of yesterday, as a good deal was out of doors.

I am afraid the poor old Monthly Packet is coming to an end,
as Innes's affairs have got into a mess. It has not come
out this month, but it may revive at half the price. — Your
affectionate cousin, C. M. Yonge.

344 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE chap.

To Miss Christabel Coleridge

Elderfield, May 14, 1900.

My dear C. C. — No, you did not send me a notice of jRed
Pottage. I am thankful you did not, for that and Canon Lias
would have been enough to tear M. in C. to pieces. However,
he thinks too much fuss is made about the MS. in the brother's
house. Do you remember Edna Lyall subscribing to Bradlaugh
from Canon Crowfoot's house at Lincoln ?

But I think people with consciences ought to reflect on the
harm they do to morbid imaginations by dwelling on suicide,
and I do think that contemplation of sin is not the way to purity
of heart.

Rosina has had very good marks for all her R.U. work, once
100, once 99, never less than 70.^ The last on the Little
Treasure Book was 89, but I think it is rather hard to be censured
for not being long enough when there were orders only to use two
sheets, and every corner was filled. She was told she should
have paraphrased " The Bar," and there was no room to have done
it, though she explained and commented on it. The same with
a bit of Church history. Her writing is not small, so some may
have had room, but I think they must have compared B. with A.
She does not mean to try again as the writing takes too much
time, but goes on reading with me, and we have just begun
Sintram. — Yours affectionately, C. M. Yonge.

Elderfield, _/«^ 17, 1900.

My dear C. C. — Tory ^ is banished. Juliette fell in love with
him, so he is gone to Witham Close, a very good home for him,
and Vic. is left lamenting. The mother mews all over the place,
but as she did so before Tory went, I think it is from native
accidie, not maternal grief. Aimee brought Miss Price ^ to tea

1 Her kitchen-maid, whom she was preparing for the G.F.S. Reading
Union.

^ Vic. and Tory were two kittens, bom on the Queen's birthday.
^ Miss Eleanor Price, author of Valentine, etc.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 345

and sent Juliette, a little friend, and a sort of semi-governess to
picnic on the top of the hill. It was very pleasant.

Fancy the German hatred to the English so that an acquaint-
ance would not bow to Anna in the theatre ! Aimie tried to
explain the rights of the Boer War to a gentleman German, but
he would not listen for a moment. Of course they were very
happy at Ammergau. They stayed for the second performance
on Whit Tuesday for the peasants. Of course we could talk
only chiefly of the terrible China. I suppose there are many more
victims besides those given in the list of the Legation, and we
do not know how many of the other nations.

I suppose Tientsin is safe for the present, but Mrs. Bishop
tells of such splendid hospitals at Han Chow and Mukdin. One
English doctor has been there eighteen years. — Your affectionate

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, August i, 1900.

My dear C. C. — Does not your paper ^ want something more
of practical application, not that I quite see how it is to be done.
Maud and Lily are capitally described, but the upshot is that a
nice girl does not like to be mixed up with them. Also that
mothers should be exhorted to keep girls nice, and mistresses to
take care whom they take.

Would it be possible to bring it more to a point ? Suppose
I made an addition, if you don't. I was rather moved to write
a sort of comment on a rather silly paper in Macmillan, which
results in our doing without servants American fashion, and at
any rate seems to think them all the smart parlour-maid of twenty
or so, resenting want of liberty, and the edicts against fringes,
which the author thinks jealousy. Are you inclined to write a
little more, bringing it to some more of a point, or is it im-
practicable ? Or shall I make a sort of notes at the end ? !

Domum seems to have been very pleasant, though all in the
fields, for Miss Crawford, the Warden's sister-in-law, actually died
in the midst of the singing. I wonder they had it at all. They
did not have the ball Mary Morshead went in with old Miss

' A paper on servant girls for Mothers in Coutuil.

346 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Warenne and saw Tory in his new abode — also stepped on him.
"Vic lies curled up with his mother. I wonder what would have
happened if Tory had been added to your " feudal jars." The
Century has some charming Literary Cats. Reggie ^ comes home
on Saturday with a good character; his little sisters were all
running about the lawn yesterday with bare feet. I am enjoying
Mary Morshead. She is to give a lecture on G.F.S. to-morrow
at Twyford to the middle-class girls, who think it is only for
servants. We are to drink tea with Mrs. Hoets.

Young Walter Moberly, Robert's son, is keeping up the credit
of the family by getting medals. Annie comes to me from the
3rd or 4th of September to the 7th. — Yours affectionately,

C. M. YONGE.

Elderfield, February 26, 1901.

My dear C. C. — I shall be very glad to see you on the 7th
or 8th. I trust you will find Helen here, as her ship is due
before the end of this week. She sailed on the 13 th, and was
to take ten days, weather being good, and to look in at Cadiz
and Lisbon on the way. She will be able to tell you about
Ronda, etc.

You will find my good Bessie Pond just departing to be
married at Hartlepool to her iron-worker, to whom she has been
engaged these five years. May's old Ellen ^ is coming instead,
which is very good, but Rose does not mean to stay long after
Easter as she wants to learn more of her work, and she is really
too good for my work and wages. So I must look for a good
superior under-housemaid's place for her, and a good trainable
girl, an easier thing to find. By the bye. Wells Gardner sends
me the account of Chimes for the mothers. Only 57 sold
this year and 900 on hand. I never had a book that answered
so ill, I fancy it is too churchy.

My old cat has been in a gin and got a horrible paw. Her

1 Little Reginald Bowles, her grand-nephew.

2 Bessie Pond waited on Miss Yonge till her marriage. Ellen Misselbrook,
an old scholar, lived for many years with Miss Coleridge, and came to Elder-
field a. month before Miss Yonge's death.

xn LETTERS TO VARIOUS FRIENDS 347

son is a huge creature, but not so agreeable as was expected, and
Miss Fin's pretty white May has been poisoned, also two Jewel cats
(supposed), I fancy eating poisoned rats. — Yours aflfectionately,

C. M. YONGE.

To Miss C. Fortescue Yonge

Elderfield, February 26, 1901.

My dear Lottie — How are you getting on ; I am afraid there
is not much change any way and that your hands are full;

I believe Helen is somewhere either in the Bay of Biscay or
the Chops of the Channel ; she sailed on the 1 8th, and in a nice
cabin with her goldfinches, and after to-morrow I may have a
telegram any day to say she is in the Thames.

Christabel talks of coming on the 7th or 8th ; I will let you
know when, as you might be able to come over and see them.

Poor Reggie has never been well since he went to St.
Leonards ; Alethea is going over to-morrow to see about him and
bring him home.

Cordelia Steer was to come to her grandmother for good, as
soon as she has fully recovered on the Blue Mountains from her
fever. Charles and Ada are in their new house.

Fancy a girl writing to me for my autograph and saying she
had got Lord Roberts, and hoped to get General Buller when
she knew his address. I could not help telling her that I thought
it very impertinent to worry a busy General about a young
lady's fashion of collection. I wonder if she will heed. — Your
affectionate C. M. Yonge.

Mr. Hare's recollections are very entertaining, brimful of
Ghost Stories.

APPENDIX A

A FEW specimens of the many letters addressed to Miss Yonge
from strangers are here added, including one from Rev. Charles
Kingsley to her publisher.

From Rev. Charles Kingsley to Mr. John Parker

May Lodge, Maidenhead,
Jtdy 6, 1855.

My dear Parker — I have just read for the first time Heartsease,
and I cannot lose a day before telling you that I think it the
most delightful and wholesome novel I ever read. The delicate
touches, moreover, of character I could mention are wonderful,
and I found myself wiping my eyes a dozen times before I got
through it. I don't wonder at the immense sale of the book,
though at the same time it speaks much for the public taste that
it has been so well received. You should be proud, and I doubt
not are, that such a work should have come out of your house.
Never mind what the Times or any one else says ; the book is
wise and human and noble as well as Christian, and will surely
become a standard book for aye and a day. — ^Yours ever faith-
fully, C. Kingsley.

From the Governess of the Princess Margaret
OF Italy

Royal Palace, Turin,
November 28.

My dear Miss Yonge — You have become so very dear to me
through your books, that I must beg the favour of addressing you

348

APPENDIX A 349

in this term. 1 feel deep gratitude towards you for the pleasure
and real moral benefit derived from your books. My royal pupil,
Princess Margaret, too, owes very much to you, as it was first the
Daisy Chain that induced her to take pains with her English
lessons, to become able to read more of your delightful books.
With children, although gifted as my princess is, in a high degree
there must be some tempting inducements to make them study
more willingly.

My pupil owes to you, dear Miss Yonge, she having made in
one year so great progress in English, to be able to read by her-
self. The Lances of Lynwood is one of her favourites, and I
cannot tell you how often she has read it over and over again ;
she began to translate it in French that her brother, the young
Duke of Genoa, might enjoy it too, but till now only a few chapters
are done. Princess Margaret has inherited much of the high
chivalrous feelings of her ancestors. Middle-age and its romance
are her delight ; she prefers Bitter Geschichter to anything else,
but any book of yours is always of the greatest interest to her ;
one grows so fond of them that the publication of a new one will
be a most welcome event. For my own part, I found many good
indications concerning the training of the mind, the wahre Herzens
behrung, which is, or ought to be, the principal aim of education,
in your descriptions ; as you understand German, dear Miss
Yonge, I may use an expression of my own language in expressing
my deep admiration for die physiologische rustige durchfuhrung of
all your characters, and the experience you have of children, as
well as of their sayings and doings. In Italy, where education is
on the lowest scale, notwithstanding the brightness and intellectual
gifts of the nation, your books will have good influence if once
known ; prejudice and narrowmindedness are leide, vorherrscliend
flowerte. Whoever does not live in this country cannot form a just
opinion of its inhabitants, which are so entirely devoid of moral
sense particularly, and of education in general.

The bringing up of a child is always a difficult task, the more
so in circumstances which position, national habits, render
bindend, und freie fet, wicklung, hemmend, also I am convinced
and trust to the lieben Gott der doch vergeblich die Kinde verzieht,
yet I am very glad to learn from you, dear Miss Yonge, and tried

350 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

to become more scrupulous towards myself. As I am to intro-
duce myself to you, I venture to send you my photographs, but
should consider it a happy event in my life to evoke your sig-
nature.

Should you come to Italy, my princess hopes to tell you her-
self how much obliged she is for the pretty present you addressed
me, and which I delivered to her. We hope to represent one of
the dramas, they are really reizend. Princess Margaret begs you
to accept her best thanks : she treasures very much a little note
you wrote concerning the Lances of Lynwood (which was forwarded
through my friend, Mrs. March), and sends you her best love.
I have been writing you a long and rather selfish letter, but hope
you will excuse it, dear Miss Yonge, in favour of the sympathy
and true admiration I feel for you. Should I be so fortunate to
see you once, there will be many questions I shall have to ask.

Accept again my best thanks, and believe me most respectfully
and sincerely yours, Rose Arbesser.

From Margaret, Princess Reuss

Klipphausen, near Dresden,
Germany, _/«/[' 3, 1882.

Dear Miss Yonge — In the earnest hope ' that you will not be
too much worried by this letter, of which sort you have surely
already received a great many, I take the liberty to come to you
with a very great request. My sister and I have read several of
your books with the greatest pleasure, and among them with
especial delight the Heir of Redely ffe and Daisy Chain. I cannot
tell how much these books are to us ; it is not enough to say
that they are our favourite ones, because they are far more than
that, and cannot be compared to other books. As we have
grown so fond of the personages in them, we should like to
know so very much if they are or have been really living, or at
least like some living people, or else if they are imagined persons.
We are of the latter conviction, for such characters, as especially
dear Guy's and Amy's, are scarcely to be found on earth. You
would oblige us to the utmost degree by answering this question,

APPENDIX A 351

though I hardly venture to make that request, and to excuse the
foolishness of it I must tell you that I am a girl of seventeen.
So, if you would be so very kind as to tell us something more
about the personages in the Heir of Redely ffe and in Daisy Chain,
we should be thankful to you beyond telling. — With the greatest
respect, yours most sincerely,

Margaret, Princess Reuss.

' From Miss Beale, Principal of Cheltenham College

Ladies' College, Cheltenham,
January 15, 1 890.

Dear Miss Yonge — Thanks for your interesting letter, it will
give pleasure to Mrs. Emery, Miss Kilner's great-niece.

That is very curious about the Lectures. It is strange that
we found these books so fascinating when we were children ;
is it because the story of the development of a soul is the most
interesting thing even to little children, and these books, spite of
aU their erroneous methods, dealt with nothing else? Besides,
we all like a wholesome severity.

Your description of your mother's school reminds me of
Thackeray's description ; surely he must have seen the girls in
Russell Square. There was in those old schools an exactness
which was good, still there was not the thoroughness which looks
to principles in grammar. Those well-marked characters given
in Ince's Outlines were very curious.

The want of sufficient food, exercise and warmth of body,
mind, and heart, was the great want. There are opposite evils
now j the young are too often self-indulgent, they exercise them-
selves in things too high for them, and they are sometimes
sentimental ; still, schools now, with all their faults (and I know
there are plenty in mine), are more what they should be than in
our grandmothers' times, so I thank God and take courage. —
Yours sincerely, D. Beale.

352 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

A Specimen of the many Anonymous Letters received
BY Miss Yonge

Dear Madam — Please do not think me impertinent if I write
to thank you for letting us hear more of the Underwoods.
People say that continuations of a story are never successful,
but my feeling is this : the Underwoods and many more of your
brain-children are just like old friends, whom we meet again after
a long separation. They may be less beautiful than they were ;
they may say little that is striking or amusingj but they are them-
selves ; we see and hear them again, and that is sufficient pleasure.

You are the dear friend yourself of nearly all my life, and you
don't know how often I have felt impelled to write and thank
you, most especially on reading some sad New Year words of
yours in the Monthly Packet, but it seemed presumptuous, and
I refrained.

You don't know what an element you have been in the life
of thousands ; how we have laughed with you, and how little wise
sayings have helped in many a difficulty.

God bless you, dear friend.

From Professor Max Muller

Park's End, Oxford,
November 17, 1873.

Dear Miss Yonge — I have just finished your Life of Bishop
Patteson, and I hasten to thank you for your kind present.
Though I knew something of the Bishop, I know him far better
now, better than I could ever have known him if he had lived.

It seems as if we never could know the full beauty of a man's
character till he is gone ; it was certainly so with him, the most
humble of men, diffident, and utterly unconscious of the greatness
of his life. I hope your book may be widely read now, as the
life of a true saint. I cannot help feeling that it will be read
when thousands of other books shall be forgotten. — Yours sincerely.

Max Muller.

APPENDIX A 353

One of Many from Humble Admirers

8 Friar's Gate, Exeter,
February 13, 1883.

Dear Madam — Forgive a stranger in thus addressing you ; I
think you will not feel annoyed when I say I have been bed-
ridden forty years. I have yearned for a long time to tell you
how much you have soothed and cheered my isolated life in your
silent visits to me ; your books have brightened many a painful
day for me. Though I am too poor to purchase your books, yet
I feel you will not scorn my tribute of gratitude for the pleasure
and comfort your thoughts have conveyed to my heart.

I saw a copy of a photo of you in the Church Bells, and I
never can express the feeling of delight it gave me ; it was like
seeing an old friend.

Dear madam, you little realise what your works are to such
as I am, shut away from all the beauties of nature and art.

I feel I have taken a great liberty in addressing you, still I
beg your forgiveness ; you know not now what a blessing and a
comfort you have been, and will be to " God's prisoners.'' I shall
know you in Paradise and thank you there. — With all good wishes,
I remain, dear madam, gratefully yours, Susan Hooper.

From Miss Moberly, on the Book of Signatures

The Parsonage, Sydenham, S.E.,
December 22, 1902.

Dear Miss Coleridge — The sum put into Miss Yonge's hand
was ;^2oo; out of this she bought herself (with apologies!) a
tea-table, saying that she had long wished for one, and with the
rest she put up the lych-gate at Otterbourne Church. The scheme
arose in this way. Mrs. Romanes, wife of Professor Romanes,
when living at Oxford remarked to me that Miss Yonge would
be seventy next birthday. Knowing how much she dehghted in
C. M. Y., I suggested that she should write (I had already
introduced them) ; this Mrs. R. felt disinclined to do, unless
I did the same. We thought many would like to do the same,
but were resolved that the signatures should be really enthusiastic,
and not sent broadcast. I undertook the entire trouble, and

2 A

354 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

with my sister's help we made a list of obvious people and invited
them to take papers and ask for signatures from those who really
cared. Wishing it to be a real pleasure to C. M. Y., we went
for distinguished people in order to get valuable autographs. The
payment of a shilling from each person was an afterthought, and
was especially not to be pressed. The object was the greeting more
than the subscription. I think it was Sophy Palmer ^ who suc-
ceeded in getting something out of the Queens of Italy and
Spain ; of course they would not sign, but sent their photographs
instead. We were told too late that several members of the
Spanish and Italian courts would have signed gladly, but
they were not directly asked. About 10,000 signatures were
secured I think, but cannot exactly remember. Mr. Holgate,
Secretary to the Bishop of Salisbury, took great interest in it,
and procured special paper and had the book bound. We tried
to get a green binding powdered with daisies ; but I think that
was not possible as far as I remember. Mrs. Romanes' friend
(whose name I forget) illuminated some little views of Otter-
bourne in the frontispiece from some sketches done in old days
by my sister Edith — the originals are in the book you have;
she also illuminated the little address. When the day came
Edith and I went over to Otterbourne from Salisbury, carrying
the book, the money, and the Queens' photographs. We left the
parcel at the door anonymously, and crept away under the hedge
unseen (as we thought), but next day received a funny little card
from Miss Yonge which I turned up the other day. We had
great fun in talking over it later and telling her the very funny
reasons given by people for signing or not signing the letter.
We were much amused to find that some months after she had
herself asked the Archbishop (Benson) to write his name, evidently
taking it simply as an autograph book. The money was given in
notes in order that she might have no clue as to the channel through
which it came, but she declared that she was sitting at the end of
the drawing-room tying her shoe when the bell rang, and she ran to
the window without her shoe and saw the tops of our heads when
we were skulking under the hedge ; just then the maid brought in
the parcel. — Yours sincerely, C. A. E. Moberly.

1 Lady Sophia Palmer.

APPENDIX B

The Works of Charlotte Mary Yonge

Abbeychurch, or Self-Control and Self-Conceit. 1844. 8vo.

Reissued 1872, 8vo.
Scenes and Characters, or Eighteen Months at Beechcroft. 1847.

1 2mo. Mozley.

1850.

Henrietta's Wish, or Domineering : a Tale. 12 mo. Masters.
Kenneth, or the Rearguard of the Grand Army. 12 mo. J. H.

Parker.
Langley School. i8mo. Mozley.

1852.

The Kings of England : a History for Young Children. 7th

edition, Mozley, 1862. Reissued 1872.
Landmarks of History. Ancient History from the Earliest Times

to the Mahometan Conquest. 12 mo. Mozley.
The Two Guardians, or Home in this World. 4th edition,
1 86 1, 8vo. Masters.

1853

The Heir of Redclyffe. 2 vols. 5th edition, 1854, 12 mo.

Parker and Son. 17th edition pubHshed 1868.
The Herb of the Field. Reprinted from the Magazine for the

Young. i2mo. Mozley. Reissued by Macmillan 1887.
Landmarks of History. Middle Ages : from the Reign of

Charlemagne to that of Charles V. 12 mo. Mozley.
3SS

356 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

1854

The Little Duke, or Richard the Fearless. i6mo. Parker and

Son. Reissued 1857. Another edition, with Illustrations,

1 89 1. Macmillan and Co.
The Castle Builders, or the Deferred Confirmation. Edition by

Mozley, i2mo, 1859. New York edition, 1855.
Heartsease, or the Brother's Wife. 8vo. Another edition, 1862,

Crown 8vo. Macmillan.

1855

The Lances of Lynwood. Post 8vo. Parker and Son. Re-
issued 1857, i6mo. Abridged edition for schools, 1894,
Macmillan.

The History of Sir Thomas Thumb. With Illustrations by J. B.
Sq. Reissue, new edition, Sq., 1859.

1856

Leonard the Lion-Heart. i8mo. Ben Sylvester's Word. i8mo.

Mozley.
The Daisy Chain, or Aspirations : a Family Chronicle. 2 vols.

Post 8vo. 9th edition, with Illustrations, 1868. Parker and

Son.

1857
Dynevor Terrace. Edition by Parker and Son. Post 8vo.

1858. Reissued i860.
Tauchnitz Edition, "Vol. 392 of Collection of British Authors.
The Instructive Picture-Book.
Vegetable World. 4to. Hamilton.
Landmarks of History. Modern History : from the Reformation

to the Fall of Napoleon. i2mo. Mozley. 6th edition,

1882. W. Smith.

1858

The Christmas Mummers. i8mo. Mozley. Reissue, The
Christmas Mummers and other Stories, 1876.

APPENDIX B 357

Marie Th^rese de Lamourons, Foundress of the House of La
Misericorde at Bordeaux. A biography. Abridged from
the French [of the Abbe Pouget]. 12 mo. Parker and
Son.

1859
Conversations on the Catechism. 3 vols. 1859-62. i2mo.
Mozley.

i860

The Mice at Play. No. 7 of the Magnet Stories for Summer
Days and Winter Nights. 8 vols. 1860-65.

The Strayed Falcon. No. 2 1 of Magnet Stories, etc.

Hopes and Fears, or Scenes from the Life of a Spinster. 2 vols.
Fcap 8vo. Parker and Son. Reissued (i vol.) 1861.

The Pigeon Pie. 2nd edition, 1861, i8mo. Mozley.

1861

The Young Stepmother. Crown Svo. Longman.

The Stokesley Secret. 2nd edition, 1862, i8mo. Mozley.

1862

Countess Kate. Royal i8mo. Mozley. Reissued with the
Stokesley Secret by A. A. Innes and Co., 1892.

Biographies of Good Women. Edited by the author of the
Heir of Redclyffe. ist and 2nd series. 1862-65. i2mo.
Mozley.

Wars of Wapsburgh. 1 8mo. Groombridge.

1863

History of Christian Names. 2: vols. 8vo. Parker. 1884

edition, Macmillan.
Sea Spleenwort and other Stories. 12 mo. Groombridge.

1864

The Trial : More Links of the Daisy Chain. 4th edition, with
Illustrations, 1868. Reissued 1870, 2 vols., post 8vo.
Macmillan.

358 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

A Book of Golden Deeds of all Times and all Lands. Gathered
and narrated by the author of the Heir of Redclyffe. 1 8mo.
Reissued 187 1, illustrated by Frolich, 8vo, and in Globe.

Readings from Standard Authors in 1883. 8vo.

A ShilUng Book of Golden Deeds, selected from a Book of
Golden Deeds, was published 1867.

The Apple of Discord. 1 2mo. Groombridge.

Historical Dramas, ismo. Groombridge.

1865

The Clever Woman of the Family. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Mac-
millan. And vol. 768-69 of Collection of British Authors,
etc., 1 841. Reissued 1867.

The Prince and the Page : a Tale of the Crusade. 1 2mo. Mac-
millan. And vol. 9 1 7 of Collection of British Authors, etc.

1866

The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Macmillan.
And vol. 834-35 of Collection of British Authors, etc., 1841.
Reissued 1870. (Tauchnitz Edition.)

1867

The Danvers Papers : an Invention. Post 8vo. Macmillan.

And vol. 9 1 7 of Collection of British Authors, etc.
The Six Cushions. Post 8vo. Mozley. Reissued 1869.

1868

Cameos from English History. New edition, 187 1, 2 vols.,

1 2 mo. Macmillan.
The Chaplet of Pearls, or the White and Black Ribaumont.

2 vols. 8vo. Macmillan.
New Ground (Kaffirland). i8mo. Mozley.
The Pupils of St. John the Divine. Post 8vo. Macmillan.

Published in Sunday Library for Household Reading.

1868.

APPENDIX B 359

Historical Selections : a Series of Readings on English and

European History. Selected by E. M. Sewell and C. M.

Yonge. 2 vols. Post 8vo. 1868-70. Macmillan.
In this year Miss Yonge also wrote an introduction to Sketches

of Rites and Customs of the Greco-Russian Church, by

H. C. Romanoff. Post 8vo. Rivingtons.

1869

A Book of Worthies. Gathered from the Old Histories, and
now written anew by the author of the Heir of Redclyffe.
One of the Golden Treasury Series. 12 mo. Macmillan.

The Seal, or Inward Spiritual Grace of Confirmation.

Friarswood Post-Office. 5th edition. i8mo. Mozley.

Keynotes of the First Lessons for every Day in the Year. 1 6mo.
Published under direction of the Tract Committee [of the
Society for promoting Christian Knowledge].

In this year Miss Yonge also edited " Two Years of School Life "
[translated from the French]. By Elise de Pressens^.

1870
The Caged Lion. Post 8vo. Macmillan.

1871

A Storehouse of Stories. Edited by Miss Yonge. i vol.

i2mo. Macmillan. New edition, 2 vols., 1880, i2mo.
The Population of an old Pear Tree, or Stories of Insect Life.

From the French of E. Van Bruyssel. Edited by C. M.

Yonge. Post 8vo. Macmillan.
Pioneers and Founders, or Recent Workers in the Mission Field,

etc. Post 8vo. Macmillan.
A Parallel History of France and England, consisting of Outlines

and Dates. 4to. Macmillan.
Musings over the Christian Year and Lyra Innocentium,

together with a few gleanings of Recollections of the Rev.

J. Keble, gathered by several friends. 12 mo. Parker.

36o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

This year Miss Yonge also wrote a preface to the Journal of
Lady Beatrice Graham, by J. M. F. Smith; and edited
from the French the Life and Adventures of Count
Beugnot, Minister of State under Napoleon I., compiled
from his papers by his son, Count A. A. Beugnot. 8vo.

Scripture Readings for Schools, with Comments. By C. M. Y.

1 87 1, etc. ist ser. i2mo. Macmillan.

Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. Royal Svo. Macmillan. Pic-
tured by L. Frolich, and narrated by C. M. Y. 2nd edition,

1872. Another edition, 1881.

1872

P's and Q's, or the Question of Putting Upon.

Questions on the Prayer-Book.

In Memoriam, Bishop Patteson. Being, with additions, the

substance of a Memoir published in the Literary Churchman.
History of France. Part 8 of Historical Course for Schools,

edited by E. A. Freeman. Reissued by Macmillan 1879,

i8mo.
This year Miss Yonge also edited translations from the French of

Dames of High Estate, by Mme. H. de Witt, and Beneath

the Cross, by Florence Wilford.

1873

The Pillars of the House, or Under Wode under Rode. 4 vols.

Macmillan. Another edition, 1875, 2 vols., post 8vo.

Macmillan.
Aunt Charlotte's Stories of English History for the Little Ones.

1 6 mo. M. Ward. School edition, 1876, 12 mo. M.

Ward.
Life of J. C. Patteson, Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian

Islands. 2 vols. 8vo. 6th edition, 2 vols., 1878.
Also edited from the French, Recollections of a Page at the

Court of Louis XVI., by the Count d'H^zecques. 8vo.

Hurst.
Lady Hester, or Ursula's Narrative. Post Svo. Macmillan.

APPENDIX B 361

1874

Questions on the Collects. i8mo. Mozley.
Questions on the Epistles. iSmo. Mozley.

187s

Aunt Charlotte's Stories of Bible History for the Little Ones.
1 2 mo. M. Ward. School edition, 1876.

Questions on the Gospels. iSmo. Mozley.

My Young Alcides : a Faded Photograph. 2 vols. Post 8vo.
Macmillan.

Memoir of G. C. Harris. [With his Sermons.] i2mo. Mac-
millan.

Also edited from the French, The Recollections of Colonel de
Gonneville. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Hurst.

1876

The Three Brides. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Macmillan.

Aunt Charlotte's Stories of Greek History for the Little Ones.

i6mo. M. Ward.
Eighteen Centuries of Beginnings of Church History. 2 vols.

I vol., post 8vo, 1876-79. Mozley.

1877

Womankind. 3 editions. Crown 8vo. 1877-80. W. Smith.

Aunt Charlotte's Stories of Roman History for the Little Ones.
Sq. i6mo. M. Ward.

Also edited from the French, A Man of other Days : Recollec-
tions of the Marquis Henry Joseph Costa de Beauregard,
selected from his papers by his great-grandson. 2 vols.
Post 8vo. Hurst.

Aunt Charlotte's Stories of German History for the Little Ones.
Sq. i6mo. M. Ward.

1878

The Story of the Christians and Moors of Spain. 12 mo.
Macmillan.

362 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

The Disturbing Element, in Chronicles of the Blue-bell Society.
[One of the Blue-bell series of Original Illustrated Tales,
1878, etc.] i2mo. M. Ward.

1879

Burnt Out : a Story for Mothers' Meetings. 2 editions. i2mo.

1879-80. W. Smith.
History of France. i8mo. Macmillan. One of History

Primers edited by J. R. Green, 1875, etc.
Magnum Bonum, or Mother Carey's Brood. 3 vols. Crown 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.
Novels and Tales, illustrated. 1879, ^^^- See page 368.
Also edited from the French, The Youth of Queen Elizabeth,

by L. Wiesener. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Hurst.

1880

Love and Life : an Old Story in Eighteenth-Century Costume.

2 vols. 8vo. Macmillan and Co.
Bye-words : a Collection of Tales New and Old. Post 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.
Verses on the Gospels, for Sundays and Holidays. 32mo.

W. Smith.
Also the Preface to Gold Dust: a Collection of Golden

Counsels for the Sanctification of Daily Life. Translated

and abridged from the French by E. L. E. B. 48mo.

Masters.
Cheap Jack. [A Tale.] 1882. i8mo. Walter Smith.

Lads and Lasses of Langley. i8mo. W. Smith. 2 editions.

1881-82.
Aunt Charlotte's Evenings at Home with the Poets, etc. Marcus

Ward and Co.
How to Teach the New Testament. [One of Religious

Knowledge Manuals,i88i, etc.] i2mo. National Society.
Practical Work in Sunday Schools. [One of Religious Knowledge

Manuals.] National Society.

APPENDIX B 363

Frank's Debt. 1882. iSmo. W. Smith.

Wolf. [A Story.] 1882. iSmo. W.Smith.

English History Reading-Books, adapted to the requirements

of the New Code. 1881-83-85. National Society.
Also edited from the French, Catherine of Aragon, and the

Sources of the English Reformation, by A. du Boys.
Questions on the Psalms. i8mo. Hurst. 2 vols., post 8vo.

The Instructive Picture-Book, or Lessons from the Vegetable

World. Fol.
Given to Hospitality. W. Smith.

Sowing and Sewing : a Sexagesima Story. i8mo. Smith.
Talks about the Laws we live under, or At Langley Night-School.

W. Smith.
Unknown to History : a Story of the Captivity of Mary of

Scotland. 2 editions. 1882-84. Macmillan.
Langley Little Ones. Six stories. i8mo. W. Smith.
Pickle and his Page-Boy, or Unlooked For. i8mo. W. Smith.
Historical Ballads, edited and annotated by C. M. Y., arranged

to meet the New Code of 1882. Schedule IL English.

1882, etc. i2mo. National Society.
Behind the Hedges, by H. de Witt. Edited from the French

by C. M. Yonge. 64mo. Masters.
Sparks of Light, by H. de Witt. Edited from the French by

C. M. Yonge. 64mo. Masters.
Also a preface to Whispers of Love and Wisdom, by A.

Cazanove. 3 2 mo. Griffith.

1883

Landmarks of Recent History. Fcap. 1770-1883. W.Smith.
Aunt Charlotte's Stories of American History, by C. M. Yonge

and J. H. Hastings Weld. i6mo. Marcus Ward and Co.
Langley Adventurers. 1883. i8mo. Smith.
Stray Pearls : Memoirs of Margaret de Ribaumont, Viscountess

of Bellaise. [A Tale.] 2 vols. Macmillan.

364 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

English Church History, adapted for Use in Schools, etc.

i2mo. National Society.
Shakespeare's Plays for Schools. Abridged and annotated by

C. M. Y.
The Miz-Maze, or the Winkworth Puzzle : a Story in Letters by

Nine Authors. (F. Awdry, M. Bramston, C. R. Coleridge,

C. M. Yonge, F. M. Peard, etc.) 8vo. Macmillan and Co.

1884

The Armourer's Prentices. 2 vols. Post 8vo. Macmillan.
Preface to Bible Selections. English. Charity, Faith, Hope,

Mercy and Peace.
Memoirs of Marshal Bugeaud, by Count H. d'Ideville. Edited

from the French by C. M. Y. 2 vols. 8vo. Hurst.

1885

Higher Reading-Book for Schools, Colleges, and General Use.

Edited with introduction and notes by C. M. Y. Post 8vo.

National Society.
Nuttie's Father. [A Novel.] 2 vols. 8vo. Macmillan and Co.

New edition, 1886.
The Two Sides of the Shield. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Post 8vo.

Macmillan. New edition, 1886.
Pixie Lawn, in Please tell Me a Tale. Short original Stories

for Children. Sq. i6mo. Skefifington.

1886

Astray: a Tale of a Country Town. By C. M. Yonge, M.

Bramston, C. Coleridge, E. Stuart. Hatchards. 2nd

edition, post 8vo, 1888.
Chantry House. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Post 8vo. Macmillan

and Co. i vol. edition, 1867.
Little Rickburners. i6mo. Skefifington and Son.
A Modern Telemachus. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Crown 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.
Teachings on the Catechism for the Little Ones. i2mo.

W. Smith.

APPENDIX B 365

Just One Tale More. By J. B. Gould, C. M. Yonge, etc. A second
collection of stories, being a companion volume to Please
tell Me a Tale. Sq. i6mo. SkefEngton and Son.

1887

The Victorian Half-Century : a Jubilee Book. Post 8vo. Mac-

millan and Co.
What Books to Lend and What to Give. Post 8vo. National

Society.
Under the Storm, or Steadfast's Charge. Post 8vo. National

Society.
Also edited Chips from the Royal Image. Fragments of the

Eikon Basilike of Charles I., by A. E. M. A. Morshead.

32mo. Masters and Co.

Deacon's Book of Dates : a Manual of the World's Chief Historical

Landmarks, etc. Post 8vo. C. W. Deacon and Co.
Beechcroft at Rockstone. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Post 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.
Nurse's Memories. 4to. Eyre and Spottiswoode.
Our New Mistress, or Changes at Brookfield Earl. National

Society.
Preparation of Prayer-Book Lessons. Post 8vo. W. Smith

and Co.

1889

A Reputed Changeling, or Three seventh Years two Centuries

ago. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. Macmillan.
The Parent's Power : Address to the Conference of the Mothers

Union. Warren and Son.
Neighbour's Fare. Published in Skeffington and Son's series of

new and original Tales for Boys and Girls from six to fourteen.
The Cunning Woman's Grandson : a Tale of Cheddar a hundred

years ago. Post 8vo. National Society.

366 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

1890

Life of H.R.H. The Prince Consort. Published in the States-
man Series. Edited by L. C. Sanders.

More Bye-words. [Tales and Poems.] Post 8vo. Macmillan
and Co.

The Slaves of Sabinus, Jew and Gentile. [A Tale.] Post 8vo.
National Society.

1891

The Constable's Tower, or the Times of Magna Charta. Post

8vo. National Society.
Westminster Historical Reading-Books. National Society.
Old Times at Otterbourne. 2nd edition. Post 8vo. Simpkin.
Two Penniless Princesses. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Crown 8vo.

Macmillan.

1892

The Cross Roads, or a Choice in Life. A Story, etc. Post 8vo.

National Society.
An Old Woman's Outlook in a Hampshire Village. Post 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.
That Stick. [A Novel.] 2 vols. Post 8vo. Macmillan.

1893

Aunt Charlotte's Stories of German History for the Little Ones.

M. Ward and Co.
Aunt Charlotte's Stories of French History for the Little Ones.

M. Ward and Co.
The Girl's Little Book. i8mo. Skefifington and Son.
Grisly Grisell, or the Laidly Lady of Whitburn : a Tale of the

Wars of the Roses. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. Macmillan.
Strolling Players : a Harmony in Contrasts. [A Tale.] By C.

M. Yonge and C. R. Coleridge. Post 8vo. Macmillan.
The Treasures in the Marshes. [A Tale.] Post 8vo. National

Society.

APPENDIX B 367

1894

The Rubies of St. Lo. [A Story.] 12 mo. Macmillan.
The Story of Easter. [A Child's Book.] M. Ward and Co.
The Cook and the Captive, or Attalus the Hostage. Post 8vo.
National Society.

1895

The Long Vacation. [A Novel.] Crown 8vo. Macmillan and

Co.
The Carbonels, etc. Crown 8vo. National Society.

1896

The Wardship of Steepcombe, etc. [A Tale.] Crown 8vo.

National Society.
The Release, or Caroline's French Kindred. Crown 8vo.

Macmillan.
Also an Introduction to Sintram and His Companions and

Undine, by De la Motte Fouqud. i6mo. Gardner and Co.

1897

The Pilgrimage of Ben Beriah. [A Novel.] Crown 8vo.

Macmillan.
Lady Georgiana Fullerton, Mrs. Stretton, Anne Manning,

in Women Novelists of Queen Victoria's Reign. Hurst and

Blackett.
And a Preface to the History of the Universities Mission to

Central Africa.

1898

Founded on Paper, or Uphill and Downhill between the Two
Jubilees, etc. [A Tale.] Crown 8vo. National Society.

John Keble's Parishes : a History of Hursley and Otterbourne.
Ex. crown 8vo. Macmillan.

The Patriots of Palestine : a Story of the Maccabees. Crown
8vo. National Society.

1899
Scenes from Kenneth, etc. Crown 8vo. E. Arnold.

368 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

1900

The Making of a Missionary, or Day Dreams in Earnest.

Crown .8vo. National Society.
The Herd Boy and His Hermit. Crown 8vo. National Society.
Modern Broods, or Developments Unlooked For. Crown 8vo.

Macmillan and Co.

1901

Reasons why I am a Catholic and not a Roman Catholic. Wells
Gardner and Co. Svo.

Novels and Tales, new editions, crown Svo. Macmillan.

1879-80 : —

Caged Lion. Lady Hester.

Clever Woman. My Young Alcides.

Daisy Chain. Pillars of the House. 2 vols.
Dove in the Eagle's Nest. Seven Heroines.

Dynevor Terrace. The Trial : More Links in the Daisy

Heartsease. Chain.

Heir of Redclyffe. Three Brides.

Hopes and Fears. Young Stepmother.

Periodicals edited by Miss Yonge

Mothers in Council. 1890. [Still in progress.]

Monthly Paper of Sunday Teaching, No. 1. 15 vols. i8mo.

1860-75.
The Monthly Packet. Edited by C. M. Yonge. 30 vols.

i2mo. 1851-65.

New Series. 30 vols. Svo. 1866-80.

Third Series. 20 vols. 1881-90.

New Series. Edited by C. M. Yonge and Christabel

R. Coleridge. 1890-99.

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371

IMPORTANT DATES IN MISS YONGE'S LIFE

Born August 13 .

• 1823

Otterbourne — first school built

1826

Julian born .....

1829

Mr. Keble came .....

. 1836

New church begun

1837

Confirmed ....

■ 1838

Church consecrated, July 30

1839

James Yonge died ....

• 1839

Edmund Yonge died

• 1847

Father's death . ...

• 1854

Brother's marriage

■ 1858

Gosling Society .....

• 1859

Move to Elderfield ....

. 1862

Death of Mr. and Mrs. Keble

. 1866

Mother's death

1868

Tour abroad ....

1869

Death of Anne ....

. 1869

Rev. W. Elgee came ....

1871

Miss Walter came to live with her .

1872

Otterbourne made a Vicarage

1875

Death of Miss Dyson ....

1878

Rev. Walter Brock ....

1881

Rev. H. Bowles

1890

Autographs presented ....

1893

Scholarship presented . . . . .

1899

Death, March 24

1901

372

APPENDIX C

Specimen of many Conversations recorped by Miss
yonge in her early days

Judge, Lady Coleridge, John,i Henry, Mary, Alethea
Coleridge, Miss Seymour, Mr. Meyrick, Edith Coleridge

Ottery, September 8, 1844: Dessert

Ale. Charlotte, why should Hazleby be spelt bies in the
plural ? ^

Char. Is not ies the plural of y ? How do you spell lady in
the plural ?

Judge. But a proper name ?

John. The plural of Mary is Maries.

Mary. Is it ?

John. Yes, certainly, I have often seen it " the Maries."

Char. Yes, in Mr. Williams' books.

John. And people who wish to be very correct write it with
an ie in the singular.

Mary. Then I suppose I ought to do so ?

Char. Oh no, pray do not, you would make it French.

Henry. And do you consider the plural of Henry to be
Henries ?

Char. I am sure I have seen it in some book where it was
speaking of the Kings of England as the Edwards and Henries.

Mary. But Henrie must have been the old way.

1 John, afterwards Lord Chief Justice Henry, afterwards Father Coleridge,
S.S.J.

2 This refers to Abbey Church, Charlotte's first published book.

373

374 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Henry. Then I wish it was so still.

Char. I do not think any old words are spelt with y, and 1
suppose they keep their old plurals.

Judge. Very well, but proper names.

Char. Why, I do not think any English word will allow a
y to stand with an s after it.

John. Atys.

Henry. Fleur de lys.

Char. Pray do you call those English words ?

Judge. But Charlotte, here is an example ; we all know there
is such a name as Newman, now in the plural would you speak
of Newmen or Newmans ?

Char. Newmen changes the sound of the name, so that you
might not know it again ; now the ies preserves the correct spell-
ing and the sound of the name.

Judge. It must be Major Hazelbie in the singular with an ie,
if you mean to be correct.

Ale. Well, I never saw anything like it, and I know when we
were at Dogmersfield all the Dysons remarked it. Nobody
could help thinking how odd it is as they read it.

Judge. Well, I must confess that I read it all through without
remarking the ies.

Mary. Well, it ought to be altered in the second part.

Lady C. And pray when is the second part to come ?

Char. Oh, I am sure I do not know whether it is to come at
all. No one ever likes a second part.

Mary. People always say they are disappointed in it, but
then they are very anxious to read it.

Char. Yes, but then they always look upon the conclusion
as a crime. Do not you remember yourself saying, " If there
is another part it must be a regular novel " ?

Mary. Oh, but I was young and foolish then, do not bring up
all that against me.

John. Well, I am never easy unless the people are all happily
married and settled. There is nothing else to do with them.

Lady C. Unless they die.

Ale. I always think Grace will die in the next part of the
Fairy Bower.

APPENDIX C 375

Mary. Oh no, I do not think she will, she has much too
much to learn.

John. I should be sorry to marry Miss Grace, she had some
rather dangerous qualities — that talent of versifying.

Char. I should not wonder if Ellen died.
John. And Grace will marry George.

Ale. No, I do not know that.

Char. Campbell is intended for her, I think.
John. Oh, I do not like Campbell. He is one of the good
ones, is not he ?

Char. And I cannot bear her name to be Duff.

Mary. No, that is very bad.

John. And Emily, who is there for her?

Char. Frank Freeman.

Mary. Not Frank Freeman, I hope.

John. You may be sure he is meant to be very perfect.

Char. But I do not know that that will do, for he gives out
that he never means to marry.

Mary. Oh ! that they all do, but no one ever believes that
they mean it.

Ale. Or else I do not know what the ladies would do.

Judge. Poor Aliens, she would be quite in despair (laughing
for a little while).

Char. Did not I hear there was to be a second part to Amy
Herbert ?

Miss S. She is writing another story, but not a second part
to Amy Herbert.

Judge. I do not know how that should end : does Amy marry
the imperfect young lord ?

Char. Why, she was the only person who could understand
his language.

Lady C. I thought that was the story where the poor thing
has the dreadful secret, and dies.

Ale. No, that was Ellen Middleton.

Lady C. There are so many of them, that it is very hard to
remember them apart.

Char. Well, I am glad there is to be no more, for the story
was very well finished.

376 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Mary. Yes, they were all living where they wished, and had
grown good, and had the daily service.

Ale. Have you finished the Lost Brooch ?

Mr. M. No, not yet.

Ale. And you have not read it ?

Miss S. No, I have not. We hked Amy Herbert very
much, indeed papa cried over it.

Char. The worst of it is, as papa says, I do not see why Rose
should have been killed by that fall.

Mary. Ah! that is what I said, but then she was always
delicate.

John. To be killed instantly by a ducking like that !

Mary. But she lived till nearly the next morning.

Char. The turn of the night.

John. But it happened quite late.

Char. No, no, just as the people were going away.

Ale. In the morning. You know they waited a long time for
the doctor.

Char. And how stupid Colonel Herbert was not to do some-
thing all that time. I do not like Colonel Herbert.

Ale. Oh, he is very good.

Char. Yes, so he is, but he says nothing but what his wife
might have said.

John. Then she lived about twelve hours. A knock on the
head would not kill her in that time.

Mary. If concussion of the brain came on.

Char. But she never mentioned a blow on the head.

Mary. You like the Fairy Bower better than Amy Herbert,
do not you ?

Char. I like Mrs. Herbert better than Mrs. Leslie.

Mary. Prosing and all !

Mr. M. Oh, I hope you like Amy Herbert best.

Edith. I like the Fairy Bower best.

Mary. There, Mr. Meyrick, there is a proof; Edith is of the
age for which they were written.

Judge. I think the description of Colonel Herbert's return is
very well written, very touching indeed.

Char. Is not it a little theatrical ?

APPENDIX C 377

John. Oh, I do not think so. I like it very much.

Mary, But do you like Mrs. Herbert's conversations best ?

Char. I think Mrs. Herbert knew how to manage her daughter
better than Mrs. Leslie.

Mary. But I think Mrs. Leslie managed Grace very well.

Char. Then what business had she to leave Grace to her own
devices among the Duffs ?

Mary. But Mrs. Leslie, when she does give a piece of advice
says some little short thing that one can remember ; now Mrs.
Herbert

Judge. I cannot say I read all the conversations in the Fairy
Bower.

Mary. Now, Charlotte, did you like that scolding Mrs. Herbert
gave Margaret ?

Char. Yes, very much.

Mary. Did you really — well, it was bad enough for her own
child, but for other people's ! And did not you skip any of her
discourses ?

Judge. Like Mary, when some one wondered how she got on
so fast in reading Don Roderick.

John. Oh, I thought it had been Shakespeare.

Mary. ■ No, no, it was Don Roderick.

Judge. And she answered, " Oh, I skip all the speeches."

Char. Which Don Roderick was it ?

Mary. Southey's.

Lady C. I like Don Roderick very much. It is my favourite.

John. Ah, mother, we all know you were a pet of Southey's !

Char. But I like Don Roderick exceedingly.

John. It seems to me exceedingly dull. Do you remember
when Pelayo comes home, and sees his house burnt down, and
his wife and children may be burnt to death — "Count," said
Pelayo — and off he goes into a discourse three pages long: —
" Count," said Pelayo, as much as to say, I have found my text,
and here is my sermon.

Mary. Oh, that part about Roderick the Goth, Roderick and
victory is enough to make one wild.

Char. Yes, I have often been obliged to read that out loud.
And the death of Count Julian

378 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

John. Yes, there are beautiful bits in it, but it is not to be
compared to Thalaba and Kehama !

(^Exeunt ladies.^

Breakfast next Morning

John. Charlotte, your name was execrated every morning at
post-time on our journey.

Mary. No, I did not mind it when once I knew you had
started and could not.

Char. And indeed I was very busy just before I went, and wrote
to you as soon as I could.

John. We used to sit down and write regularly every day, and
there was Aliens crying out that she never heard from us, and
writing us three lines on Queen sized, or Prince of Wales sized
paper, with the lines up at the end, and so far apart, and agree-
able vistas between.

Char. Why, Alethea could not have so much to say as you
had.

Henry. I know I used to wonder how she could write such
long letters.

Char. I am sure you did very handsomely by me. You wrote
to me on old-fashioned sized paper, and such a thing is to be
prized nowadays.

John. But it comes to exactly the same thing if you write on
two sheets of note paper.

Char. Rather more, I think, it makes one write more
compactly.

Mary. I do not think it makes much diflference in that way.

Henry. And on note paper letters are so much better to keep.

Char. Yes, but the writer should never reckon on that.

Mary. I am sure I hope no one keeps mine.

John. You may depend upon it they do. The correspondence
of Miss Mary Coleridge will surely appear — but then luckily it will
not be while you are alive.

Henry. No, the writer of the letters continues to possess them.

Char. Though he cannot have them again when once they are
in the postman's hands.

APPENDIX C 379

John. He has power only over the copyright. That was
curiously shown about Lord Dudley's letters. The Bishop of
Exeter would not allow any more of them to be published.

Char. What a pity that was ; I was very much entertained by
those letters.

John. Were you indeed ? Well, I must say I was disappointed
in those letters, when he was a man of such reputation.

Char. Well, I read them knowing nothing of his reputation,
and was very much amused by them.

John. There are one or two happy hits, such as his saying that
Pompeii is a city potted for posterity. That is excellent, but the
rest struck me as very commonplace.

Char. But the greater part of every one's letters must be
commonplace. No one but Cowper could write letters without
some dull work.

Mary. Well, there is none of that in Dr. Arnold's. You have
the cream of it.

John. Well, I like to know how people are going on. I think
there is too much of Arnold's left out.

Miss S. I thought it was only the domestic parts that were
left out.

John. There is a great deal left out besides.

Henry. And some things put in that might be left out.

John. Yes, he had a wonderful perversion of mind on those
points. I wonder Stanley should have done it, for he is devoted
to Newman.

Henry. It must give great pain to Newman.

John. It is wonderful to see the feeling respecting Newman.
You know Stanley, don't you ?

Henry. Yes.

John. You know he is a man of few words. Well, he says,
" If one meets with Mr. Newman in the street, and shakes hands
with him, it is a thing to remember a week after."

Mr. M. How little notion people have of whit goes on in
Oxford. Why, they should call it Puseyism rather than by the
other names.

38o CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

IMAGINARY BIOGRAPHIES

The imaginary histories of Miss Yonge which gained currency
at different times were a great amusement to her.

I myself was told in Ulm Cathedral that she was' married
there to a German ofiScer, nor did any contradiction produce any
effect on the cicerone who showed me round.

That Archbishop Tait said she was like an old Admiral of the
Blue, because she had blue eyes and never wore anything but
blue serge (her eyes were hazel, and she did not like blue serge
and never wore it) ; —

That her only ornament was a large silver cross given her by
Dr. Pusey (she never saw Dr. Pusey but once, and she did not
possess a silver cross) ; —

That she spent her evenings listening to music (she did not
possess a piano, and was utterly unmusical) ; —

That she was Abbess of a Convent ; — were among the most
striking of these inventions.

The Deanery, St. I'aul's,
December 19, 1882.

My dear Miss Yonge — I must send you an extract from an
Italian newspaper which I am sure will amuse you, and at the
same time I wish you a very happy Christmas. — Ever yours
affectionately, H. S. Church.

E morta la celebre scrittrice Inglese, Era di Ratcliffe. Suo
nome era Jong, ma in recognizione di suvi talente, la Regina
Vittoria I'ha fatto Viscontessa.

Sposo I'ambasuatore Inglese a Costantinopole ma nin lascio
di scrivere bellissimi Romanzi fui a poco tempo fa.

APPENDIX C 381

QUESTIONS ON MISS YONGE'S BOOKS

A Paper set by the Rev. Canon Bright, D.D., Canon of
Christ Church, Oxford, Regius Professor of Ecclesiastical History.

1. Where are the Lady of the Lake and the Lay of the Last
Minstrel quoted ?

2. Illustrate the progress of Tom Maddison's education from
his letters.

3. What provoked the improvement in Edward Anderson ?

4. What retribution overtook Wilmet ?

5. Mention and justify the phrase repeatedly applied to
Gertrude May.

6. AVhat improbabilities occur to you in the plot of any of the
stories ?

Lady Frederick Cavendish also gave a dinner-party at which
similar questions were set to the guests.

382 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

ACCOUNT OF MISS YONGE'S FUNERAL

All is over, and the mortal remains of one who was dear to all
who knew her, and who was to us in Otterbourne a friend whom
it will be impossible, to replace, "Whose ear was ever open to the
cry of the poor and needy, a wise adviser to all who looked to her
for guidance, a loving, patient, and absolutely indefatigable teacher
and trainer of the young, and a pillar of strength to the parish
priest," have been committed to the ground — "earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust." There we leave her, resting at the foot of
the memorial cross of him to whom she owed so much, in sure
and certain hope of her resurrection to eternal life through her
Lord Jesus Christ, whom she loved so well and served so faithfully.
We took her body on the Thursday evening (March 28), borne by
six sides-men, and followed by her late scholars, to the church in
which she had worshipped so constantly for more than sixty years,
"over a path white with snow,'' which reminded some of us of her
description of that royal funeral in 1649, "when the king went
white to his grave." There we laid her in state before the chancel
screen, with six tall tapers lighted around the coflSn. Vespers of
the dead having been said, the solemn watch of twenty hours
began. Arrangements were made for not less than three friends
to watch for each hour, but there were few hours when there were
not many more loving watchers present. At 6.30 a.m. next day
(the 35th anniversary of the death of John Keble of ever blessed
memory) the Holy Communion was celebrated, and " brightly the
sun shone over the dazzling snow on trees and ground, as the
village folk gathered to realise the Communion of Saints." Again
at 9 A.M. a large congregation assembled in the church for a
" Requiem " (or choral celebration of the Holy Eucharist), which
was taken by the Rev. W. H. P. Arden, Chaplain to the Forces,
assisted by a full choir, whose part was most impressively rendered.
" Peace, perfect peace " and " On the Resurrection morning " were
the hymns at this service, and they sounded " like Easter joy and

APPENDIX C 383

light breathing out in thankfulness round the quiet dead among
the shadows of Eastertide.'' The service for the "Burial of the
Dead " was fixed for two o'clock, and by that hour every available
seat was taken, whilst many had to be content with standing inside
or waiting in the churchyard. As soon as the relatives had taken
their seats, the choir and clergy, headed by the processional cross,
entered from the vestry, whilst the Vicar recited the opening
sentences, which were followed by the hymn " How bright these
glorious spirits shine." The lesson was read by the Rev. H.
Walter Brock, after which was sung "The Saints of God, their
conflict passed." Owing to the bitterly cold weather, the prayers
were said in the church, the Rev. J. G. Young taking this part.
And then the body, preceded by the choir and clergy chanting the
Nunc Dimittis, was borne out of the church to its last resting-place
(which had been tastefully lined with moss and flowers by loving
hands), into which it was reverently lowered by the sides-men,
whose privilege it was to act as "bearers." The choir was
grouped upon and around the steps of the " Keble " Memorial,
upon which had been placed a laurel wreath, bearing the following
inscription : —

In Reverent Memory of

JOHN KEBLE,

Master and Inspirer of

Charlotte Mary Yonge,

Whom God called home, on March 29th, 1866.

Voice of the Fearless Saint !

Ring like a trump where gentle hearts

Beat high for truth.

Tell them the hour is come, and

They must take their parts.

After the Committal, and the lovely hymn " Now the labourer's
task is o'er," the Dean of Winchester pronounced the Bene-
diction ; then the procession reformed, and returning to the
vestry left the crowd of mourners to have a last look at the cofiSn
of her whom the village had known for nearly seventy-eight years.
On the Sunday following (the octave of her death) many
villagers and others paid the grave another visit to find it and the

384 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

steps of the " Keble" Granite Cross covered with lovely wreaths
and other floral tokens of affection. The services on this day
were, of course, in keeping with the occasion, the sermon in the
morning being preached by the Rev. Canon Moberly, of Christ
Church, Oxford, and that in the evening by the Rev. H. Walter
Brock, late Vicar of Otterbourne. We have permission to have
these two eloquent and touching tributes printed in pamphlet
form. — Otterbourne Parish Magazine.

INDEX

Abbey Church, 141, 152, 153 note

Abraham, Mrs., 229

Adams, Mrs. (Mildred Coleridge),

201, 202
Amiens, 239

Antony, 12, 68 et seq., 89, 90
Arbesser, Rose, letter from, 348
Arden, Rev. W. H. R, 382
Arnati, M., 108
Arthur, Miss, 332
Ashwell, Mr., editor of The Literary

Churchmati, 261, 262, 299
Awdry, Mrs. (Emily Moberly), 202,

204, 312
Awdry, Rev. Vere, letter to, 327

Baker, Mr. and Mrs., of Whitburn,

31. 32
Barabbas (Marie Corelli's), 333
Bargus, Alethea. See Yonge, Mrs.

John, of Puslinch
Bargus, Frances Mary (mother of

Charlotte Mary Vonge). See

Yonge, Mrs. William
Bargus, John Locke, 6
Bargus, Richard, 4
Bargus, Rev. Thomas, 4, 6, 7, 17,

iS
Bargus, Mrs. (Cordelia Garston), 6
Bargus, Mrs. (Mary Kingsman), 7,

18, 31. 49, 52> 54, 77, 80, 88,

97, IS4
Barkway, 8, 9

Barnacle, MS. magazine, 202
Barnett, Miss, letters to, 306-313
Barter, Rev. Charles, of Comworthy,

loi
Barter, Rev. Charles, of Sarsdon,

lOI

Barter, Robert S., Warden of Win-
chester College, roi-103, 146

Barter, Rev. William, 1 01

Bastard, Grace, of Kitley, l note

Bastard, Edmund P., 4

Bastard, Mrs., 4

Beale, Miss, letter from, 351

Beau, Monsieur, 108

Beechcroft at Rockstont, 274, 326

Ben Sylvester's Word, 198

Bentham, Captain, 59

Best, Miss, 222

Bigg. Wither, Miss M. A., 329 note

Bigg-Wither, Rev. W. H. W, 97,
100, 113, 116, 134, 232, 262,
330 ; letters to his family, 328-

330
Biographies of Good Women, 227
Blackburne, Miss Ireland, 283
Boevy, Sir Thomas Crawley, 273

note
Bogue, Richard, 74
Boringdon, Lord, 61
Bowdler, Rev. Thomas, 131
Bowles, Rev. Henry, 279
Bowles, Mrs. (Alethea Yonge), 279,

280
Bowles, Reginald, 346, 347
Bramston, Anna, 276, 282, 286
Brickworth, 87
Brock, Rev. Walter, 274, 279, 3 1 2,

383, 384
Brooke, Lord, 6
Browne, Bishop fiarold, 75
Browne, Mrs., 293
Bruce, Lady Frederick, letters to,

326, 327
Butler, Dean, letter to, 305
Butler, Mr., of Wantage, letter to,

237
Butler, Mrs. Arthur, 314
Butler, Miss (Mrs. Lewis Knight),

202

2 C

INDEX

387

Elderfield, 200, 225

Eldon, Lord, 104

Elgee, Rev. W. F., 232, 274

Elgee, Mrs. J notes by, 262

Eliot, George, 340

EUacombe, Miss (Mrs. John Yonge), 3

Emma, Queen, of Honolulu, 222

Encombe, Lord, 104

England, Dr., 321 note

Ewing, Mrs., 165

Eyre, Fanny (Mrs. Bolton), 37

Faithfiill, Mr., 301
Ffinch, Mr., 343
Finlaison, Miss, 272, 280
Founded on Paper, 276
Freke, Major, 211
Froude, Mr. Hurrell, 175
Fursdons, the Miss, 202

Garston, Cordelia (Mrs. Thomas
Bargus), 6

Garston, Mary (Mrs. Hay), 33

Garston, Captain Robert, 32

Garston, Mrs. Robert, 33

Gatty, Mrs. Alfred, 165

Gibbs, Mr., of Tyntesfield, 261,
273 note

Gibbs, Mrs., 273 and note, 309

Girls' Friendly Society, 127, 293,
312

Glendalough, 214, 216

Goddard, Dr., Headmaster of Win-
chester College, 16, 18

Golden Deeds, Book of, 227, 311

Grainger, Anne (Mrs. James Yonge
of Puslinch), 4, 7 1

Green, John, 43, 44

Griffiths, Mr., 25, 59

Groombridge, Messrs. , publishers,
130

Guizot, M., 239 et seq., 299

Gyver, Rapier, 11

Halford, Sir Henry, 76

Hall, Colonel, 21

Harcourt, Archbishop Vernon, 104

Harcourt, Mrs. Vernon, 37, 133

Harcourt, Rev. Leveson Vernon, 92,

93
Harley, Mr., 41, 42
Harris, Rev. Dr., 113, 225
Harris, Mrs. See Yonge, Jane

Harris, Rev. George, 227, 261 and

note
Harris, John, 100
Hatfield, 310

Hay, Mrs., of Drummebrier, 33
Heartsease, 168, 185, 197, 338, 348
Heathcote, George, 136
Heathcote, Archdeacon Gilbert, 47
Heathcote, Rev. Gilbert Wall, 48,

116
Heathcote, Miss H., letters to, 303,

304
Heathcote, Sir William, 80, 133,

146, 219, 303 ; letters to,

299-302
Heathcote, Lady, 218
Heathcote, William, 136
Heath's Court, 15, 152
Heir of Redely ffe, 144, 165 et seq.,

182, 210, 266, 338, 350
Henrietta's Wish, 153, 156
Higher Religious Education Society,

293
Hill, Miss, 321
Home, Mrs., 28
Hook, Mrs., 28
Hooper, Susan, letter from, 353
Hopes and Fears, 185, 189 note,

199
Howley, Archbishop, 104
Howth, Lady, 212
Hursley Vicarage, 119, 140, 146,

196

Jervis, Caroline, 93, 133
Johns, Rev. Charles, 79 ^"te
Jones, Rev. Dr., Rector of Exeter

College, 38, 88, 103
Jones, Mrs. See Yonge, Charlotte,

of Cornwood

Keary, Miss, 165 note

Keble College, 259, 332

Keble, Rev. John, 58, 61 note, 116,
119, 120, 128, 131, 138, 140,
146, 152, 166, 169, 189, 191,
218, 221, 223, 224, 287, 325-

327
Keble, Mrs., 119, 206, 221, 222
Keble, Rev. Thomas, 140
Keble, Mrs. Thomas, 140
Kenneth, 153 and note
Kingsley, Rev. Charles, 198, 348

388

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Kingsraan, Maria, 7 et seq., 18, 26,

108
Kingsman, Mary. See Bargus, Mrs.

Thomas
Kings of England, 148, 153, 157
Knight, Mrs. Lewis, 202 ; letter to,

315
Knight, Lucy, 95
"Knollyses, the Lady," 112
Kolimarama, missionary college at,

210

Lances of Lynwood, 153, 198, 349,

350
Landmarks of History, 153, 163
Langford, Roger de, 2
Langley School, 149, 159 note
Learmouth, Major, 211, 213
Leeke, Ensign William, 23
Leigh, Mr. Austen, 301
Leonard the Lion-Heart, 141, 198
Leroy, Amelie (Esme Stuart), 261,

276, 282
Little Duke, 153, 165
Lockhart, Miss, 160
London, 92, 203
Long Vacation, The, 274
Lord, Elizabeth (Mrs. Charles Yonge),

75> 76
Lyford, Dr., 53, 193
Lyon, Sir E., 219
Lyte, Mr. Maxwell, 311

Mackarness, Rev. John, 158 note.
Mackenzie, Anne, 292
Mackenzie Memorial Mission, 292
Magazine for the Young, 149, 152,

164
Magnet Stories, 130
Maidstone, Lord, 105
Mapletoft, Marianne (Mrs. Davys),

93

Martin, Lady, 269

Martin, Miss, 238 et seq.

Martyn, Paulina, 201

Maion, Joseph, 81

Mason, Maria, 57, 81, 115

Mason, Robert, 81

Matcham, Mr., 214

Max Miiller, Professor, letter from,

352
Melanesian Mission, 184
Mice at Play, 1 30

Middleton, Captain, 213
Misselbrook, Ellen, 346
Mitchell, Mrs. Harcourt, letter to,

330
Miz-Maze, The, 276
Moberly, Dr., Bishop of Salisbury,

29, 130, 146, 207
Moberly, Mrs., 130
Moberly, Miss, extracts from Journal,

205, 209 ; letter from, on the

Book of Signatures, 353
Moberly, Alice, 166, 220, 228
Moberly, Anne, 330 ; letters to, 324,

325
Moberly, Emily (Mrs. W. Awdry),

202, 204
Moberly, Margaret, 205
Moberly, Rev. Canon, 384
Moberly, Walter, 346
Modem Broods, 274
Monthly Packet, 120, 164, 185, 277,

278
Moore, Captain Montgomery, 198,

21 r, 296
Moore, Mrs. (Jane Colborne), 198,

210, 296
Moore, Dr., 19
Moore, Sir John, 1 9
Morley, Lord, 61
Morshead, Beatrice, 308
Morshead, Ernest, 258
Morshead, Mary Anderson, 202 ;

letter from, 292 ; letters to,

33I-33S
Morshead, Mrs. J. P. Anderson.

See Yonge, Alethea, of Puslinch
Mothers in Council, I20, 142, 289
Mount Pleasant, 39
Mowbray, Miss, letter to, 284
Mozley, Anne, 149, 177 note, 180

note
Mozley, Richard, of Derby, 149,

Mozley, Mrs. Thomas (Harriet New-
man, 339,. 340
Mrs. Eldernefs School, 1 58 note
Mudge, Admiral, 91
Mudge, Mrs., 91, 92, 103
Mudge, Zachary, 91
Murray, Jessie, 28
Murray, Mr., publisher, 167

Napier, George, 19

INDEX

389

Neale, Dr., 311
New Ground, 266, 292
Newman, Cardinal, 192
Newman, Miss, 152
Newsells, 9
Newton Ferrers, 2, 5
Normanville, M. de, 109, 124
Nott, Rev. Dr., 28

Oliphant, Mrs., 342

Otterbourne, 34, 40 et seq., 124 et

seq., 272, 280
Otterbourne Parish Magazine, account

of Charlotte M. Yonge's funeral,

382-384
Otterton, 4
Ottery, St. Mary, 15
Oxford, George, 45, 99, 100

Palgrave, Mr. F., 340

Palmer, Sir Roundell (Lord Sel-

borne), 80, 303
Palmer, Lady Sophia, 354
Paris, 231

Parker, John, publisher, 167, 348
Patteson, Bishop Coleridge, 265 et seq.
Patteson, Frances, 227, 265 ; letter

to, 268
Patteson, Joan, 227, 265
Peachey, Miss (Mrs. Harcourt), 9,

92, 93
Peard, Frances M., 165 note, 183

note, 201, 228, 276
Phillpotts, Mrs., 103
Pillars of the House, 232, 328, 330,

340
Plymouth, 67
Plympton, ^%, 90
Pode, Dr. Thomas, 88, 90
Pode, Mrs. See Yonge, Anne, of

Cornwood
Pond, Bessie, 346
Pontissara, Bishop John de, 47
Poole, Miss, 272
Price, Eleanor, 283, 284
Prince and the Page, The, 153
Pusey, Dr., 259, 315, 380
Puslinch, I, 2, 62 et seq., 81, 114
" Puss Yonges," 5 and note

Rennell, Dean, 29
Rennell, Rev. T., 30
Rennell, Sarah, 29

Reuss, Princess, letter from, 350

Roach, Jerome, 38

Rolfe, Mr., 321 note

Romanes, Mrs. George, letter to,

336
Rouen, 239
Round's Nest, 86
Royle, Mrs., 135

St. Matthew's, Otterbourne, 273

St. Vincent, Lord, 30

Salis, Miss de, 210 et seq.

Salisbury, Marquis of, 104

Scarlett, Major, 280

Scenes and Characters, 124, 150,

152, 274
Scott, Lady Anne, 210
Scott, Lady Maria, 212
Scott, Lady Rachel, 210
Scott, Sir Walter, 113, 161
Seaton, Lord (John Colborne), 7, 8,

II, 16 et seq., 33, 35, 59, 146,

198, 199, 211
Seaton, Lady, 20, 33
Selborne, Lord, 80, 303
Selsey, Lord, 7, 9, 27, 93
Selwyn, Bishop, 75, 206, 209, 227
Selwyn, Mrs., 209, 229
Sewell, Miss, 152
Sheviocke, 5
Shipley, Anna Maria, 73
Shipley, Conway, 73
Shipley, Rev. Charles, 73, 74
Shipley, Mrs., 73, 74, 85
Short, Dr. Thomas Vowler, Rector

of Kingsworthy, 58
Shuckburgh, Rev. Robert, 47, 48,

74> 97
Simmonds, Sarah, 49
Sister's Care, 157
Smith, George, 13
Somerset, Lord Fitzroy, 24
Southern Cross, missionary ship, 210
Spratt, Harriet, 49, 95, 228
Strayed Falcon, 130
Strolling Players, 274, 276
Stuart, Esme. See Leroy, Amelie
Sumner, Bishop, 104
Sumner, Mrs., 327 ; letter from,

288-291

Taylor, Sir Henry, 215
Tennyson, Lord, 197 note

390

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

Thackeray, W. M., 22

Torquay, 227

Trematon Castle, 70, 89

Two Guardians, The, 153, 162,

163

Two Sides of a Shield, 274
Tyntesfield, 273 note
Tyrwhitt, Mr. St. John, 308

Unknown to History, 311
Upton, Elizabeth, i note
Upton, Mary, of Puslinch (Mrs. James
Yonge), I

Val Richer, letters from, 238 et seq.
Vaux, Canon, 117
Vivian, Sir Hussey, 103
Vivian, Lady, 103

Walter, Frances. See Yonge, Mrs.

Julian
Walter, Gertrude, 270, 271, 281
Ward, Mrs. Humphry, 201
Warwick, Lord, 6, 17
Waterloo, battle of, 22-25
Wellington, Duke of, 24, 103, 105,

123
Westcombe, Rev. Mr., 74
Westcombe, Mrs., 27
Westcombe, Tom, 27
West Dean, 92, 140
Weston St. Mary Church, 227,

229
Whitsand Bay, 70
Wickham, Mrs. , of Compton, 318
Wilberforce, Bishop, 229, 260
Wilberforce, Mr. H., 180
Wilbraham, Colonel, 209
Wilford, Florence, 201 ; letters to,

316-321
Williams, Sarah, 133
Wills, Sir Francis, 9 note
Wilson, Mrs. , of Rownhams, 224
Wilson, Rev. R. T., 189 and note
Winchester Cathedral, 28, 206,

263
Winchester College, 121
Winchester High School for Girls,

282
Windus, Marianne, 77
Wither, Rev. Mr. See Bigg- Wither
Witt, M. de, 241, 245 et seq.
Witt, Mme. de, 231, 241 et seq.

Witt, Mme. Cornelis de, 248 et seq.
Wodehouse, Lady Eleanor, 208
"Womankind," 277
Wood, Colonel, 211
Wordsworth, Miss, 272, 330

Yards, the Miss, 191

Yates, Mrs., 48

Yealmpton, 71, 85

Yonge, Dr. James, of Plymouth,

I, 2

Mrs. (Mary Upton), i
Yonge, John, 3

Mrs. (Elizabeth Duke), 3
Rev. John, 3
Mrs. (Miss Ellacombe), 3
Duke. See Rev. Duke, of Corn-
wood
Yonge, Dr. James, of Puslinch, 3-5
Mrs. (Ann Mudge), 4
Mrs. (Anne Grainger), 4, 71
John. See John, of Puslinch
Edmund (Admiral), 30, 31, 71,

85,88
Elizabeth (Lady Seaton), 20, 33
Mary Anne, 71, 72
Jane (Mrs. Harris), 69, 225, 261
Yonge, Rev. Duke, of Cornwood, 3
et seq., 31, 37, 131 note
Mrs. (Catharina Crawley), 4, 5,

13, 37. 40, 67, 91, 92
Susanna, 13, 38

Duke. See Rev. Duke, of Antony
Charles, 9, 12, 38, 39, 75
Mrs. (Elizabeth Lord), 75, 76
Charlotte (m. 1st, George Crawley,
2nd, Rev. Dr. Jones), 13, 14,
26, 37, 38, 76, 88, 91, 106
Catharina (Mrs. Charles Crawley),

13. 38. 90

James. See Dr. James, infra

William Crawley (father of Char-
lotte M. Yonge), 12-15, 20 et
seq., 50-53, 74, 76, 80, 100,
107, 130, 179. 186, 193-195

Mrs. (Frances Mary Bargus), 7,
8, 11, 15 et seq., 28-30, 48, 53,
71, 95, 118, 130, 151, 196,
200, 228, 231, 297 ; letters to,
210-217

Anne (Mrs. Pode), 13, 39, 67, 88,
90

John, 12

INDEX

391

Yonge, John, of Puslinch, 19, 64,
82, 107, IIS
Mrs. (Alethea Henrietta Bargus),
7, 9 note, 1 8-20, 27, 64, 72,
84, 85, 87, 107
John, 64, 107

Alethea (Mis. J. P. Anderson
Morshead), 64, 72, 82, 84,
106
James, 65, 81, 97, 106, 107
Mary, 65, 72, 84 ; notes by, 141 ;

letters to, 257, 258
Jane Duke, 65, 84, 86
John Bargus, 65, 71, 82, 85-87,

106
Duke, 59, 66, 71, 86
Anne, 66, 83, 84, 86, 97, 115,
232, 257, 332; letters to, 123,
133-140, 218-220, 223, 224
Edmund Charles, 66, 86
Frances Elizabeth, 66, 72
Yonge, Rev. Duke, of Antony, 9 et
seg., 39, 68, 70, 75, 76, 89, 118
Mrs. (Cordelia Colborne), 7, 9,

11-13, 70, 89, 1 18
Alethea, 67, 69, 88, 118
Cordelia, 69, 118
Arthur, 69, 70, 89

Yonge, Dr. James, 12, 15, 38, 39,

79. 100
Mrs. (Margaret Crawley), 38, 79
James, 67, 78
Eleanora, 67, 78
Edward, 67, 78
Yonge, Julian Bargus, 73, 74, 95,

100, 105, 106, no, 118, 166,

168, 186, 187, 193, 199, 218,

220, 273, 335
Mrs. (Frances Walter), 199, 200,

236, 238 et seg., 297 ; letter

to, 336
William, 200, 296
Helen, 280, 285, 286 ; letters to,

335. 336
Arthur, 269
Alethea (Mrs. Bowles), 279, 280,

347
George, 304
Yonge, Miss C. Fortescue, 285 ;

letters to, 343, 347
Young (Yonge), Nathaniel, 2
Young, Rev. J. G., 383
Young, Peter, 140
Young, Sir William, 14, 34
Young Ladies, 136
Young Stepmother, The, 197

THE END

Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh