In the life of a Strong-Minded Female in Search of the Pictureqsue
Originally published in The National Magazine (National Magazine Company) #2 (Dec 1856).
My name is Clementina Spareshanks. I am a single gentlewoman, possessed of high bird-like aristocratic features, and a spare yet athletic person. My age is thirty-seven years; but I do not call myself an old maid, as I hold it presumptuous to anticipate Heaven's decrees in that respect. And though I am at present, and have been for the said thirty-seven years, self-sustaining, it is by no means definitely settled that I should always remain so. I have been always considered a strong-minded woman. My poor dear mother, who is dead and gone, thought so. I entertain the same view: indeed, it has ever been my aim so to regulate my life that perfect dignity combined with extreme affability, a strict observance of the most rigid propriety balanced by benevolence to the weakness of poor humanity in others, have hitherto characterised me.
This very summer my nephew, Jacob Spareshanks, returned from school for the vacation. He was fifteen, and
uncommonly intelligent. Though he often used expressions which I failed entirely to comprehend, he assured me they were much in fashion, and perfectly understood at school. One morning this dear boy proposed to me that we should make a short pedestrian tour (I was to pay the expenses), urging that Jack Harles and his sister had done so, and derived both instruction and amusement. Dear Jacob! he evidently felt as if I were a sister to him, and dwelt unceasingly and in glowing terms on the delights of being like wild Arabs, with no trunks, free as the air, and never certain where to dine, leaping like roebucks up the magnificent mountains of Scotland, and again crouching in the heather.
I resolved to enter into his ardour. I had studied Scotch as dilligently as to be able, by the aid of the glossary, perfectly to understand the dialect as represented in the Waverley Novels. I had also perused with attention Christie Johnstone; and though I had never attempted to pronounce the language, nor had I, indeed, heard it spoken, I had no doubt of being able to catch the accent after intercourse with the natives. I had more than once walked seven miles in one day. Every one agrees that under excitement all powers are doubled, and should I not be excited? My costume was modelled under Jacob's directions. A pair of boots were made for me, laced in front, decorated with drab cloth and brass; the toes were worked in hieroglyphics; their weight and beauty were excessive. I was unable to practise walking in them in the house as I had at first intended, as the nails which studded the soles either rooted me fast to the carpet or tore it up by handfuls. After several falls, therefore I reluctantly relinquished this idea. For the rest, my gown was as short as my views of propriety admitted, and on my head I poised an enormous brown hat. I carried a sandwich-case, and Jacob bore a knapsack and small flask.
Thus armed to the teeth, we commenced our travels; and early one fine summer morning we alighted from the railway-carriage at an obscure station situated on the north coast of —shire in Scotland. and made our way over what appeared to me exceedingly rough ground towards the sea. I must confess, that within the first half-hour my new boot hurt my right foot dreadfully, and I went rather lame. Jacob said, however, that this inconvenience would soon Wear off, which it did, after a fashion; for before long my left foot was even worse, so as materially to lessen the visible limp, and make me devoutly wish to take a turn on my hands. My nephew, innocent of the reason, declared with delight that I was "right as a trivet, and stepped out like an old game screw." I hardly understood this phrase; but as it was evidently intended as applause, I held my peace. Why should I tell my dear boy that every step I took made me feel as if I had two great, gimlets boring holes in my heels? We walked eight miles, Jacob said; but I think he was mistaken; I know it was eighteen; and then we sat down to dine within view of a small row of mud cottages, which closely overlooked a swelling black sea. Unluckily Jacob took it into his head to sail in a boat, to see the caverns and rocks to better advantage; and I was to clamber up on to St. — Head, whence I might look out for him, if I would.
The day was lovely, so I ascended the height in question. I thought twenty times that my beating heart would break my ribs as I panted up the steep. At last I cautiously crawled to the edge of the precipice which overhung the sea, and inserted my heels and elbows so dexterously into the soft nooks as in some fashion to nail myself safely on, in the form of an impaled bat or spread eagle. Two steep crags lay to my left, one in the arms of the other, if I may be pardoned the impropriety of the simile; gashes of white quartz lay across them like snow-wreaths in the hollows; a pale scanty green clothed the dentilated tops; then came a stratum of rock, of purple-pink hue, mottled thickly with grass; then an abrupt black wall, and sobbing and hugging the sides was the dark gurgling water. Upright blocks of granite rose in the midst here and there to a great height, being, I doubt not, as many feet above the sea as their base was below its level. They stood their ground, isolated and self-supporting. Thousands of sea-birds were on the wing, whirling and screaming. Two or three were riding on the waves, floating over each swell like water-lilies sleeping in the sun. Now and then a seaweed-covered rock was left bare of water for an instant; I should hardly think it saw the sky for more than a few seconds each day; and round, and beyond, far and wide, for many and many a Scottish mile, lay the vast expanse of dim blue waters, specked by scores of white sails puffed out by the wind. Those sea-birds distracted me sadly; they flew above my head in circles, uttering long plaintive wails, and anon sharp impatient bitter cries, which sounded like "Go back, go back!" What did they mean? What could they want? Why were they not self-supporting like me? Below, to my right, the high cliff, chiefly composed of red sandstone, sheltered a miniature harbour for fishing-smacks, some dozen of which were anchored therein after their night's voyage. Women and children were visible at times, and fishermen lounged about inertly, mending their nets. In addition to the visible abodes, the cliff was hollowed out and channeled in such a manner as to afford dwelling-accommodation for more of these amphibious mortals. I endeavoured to compose and elevate my mind, as well as securely to fix my person. I contemplated the dreadful yet interesting fate which awaited me in case I slipped and sank into the cold embrace of the never-satisfied ocean. I depicted to myself the horror of my friends on learning my tragical death. Presently this train of reflection was broken through by the appearance of a small skiff rounding the point. A couple of fishermen in scarlet caps were urging it on, and dear Jacob was gracefully reposing in the stern. He afterwards told me that he could at first hardly believe his eyes, beholding me perched like a female osprey on so inaccessible a spot. He waved his handkerchief; I would have done the same, had I dared to take my elbows out of the hollows. The vessel then rounded another corner, and was lost to my devouring eyes.
I hope I am not tiring my reader by this apparent lingering over minute details of little interest; but I shrink with natural bashfulness from approaching the horrible termination of that day.
When Jacob rejoined me, we started again, and for several more weary miles we trudged on. Whenever we got down on to the shore, the cliff uniformly rose up so abruptly, that it was at the hazard of my life that I attempted to ascend it. More than once I seemed to myself to be wriggling in the air, supported solely by Jacob's hand; and proceed otherwise we could not, as where the cliff projected the sea was many feet deep at the base. No sooner were we on the "brae-head," and it was impossible for us to descend again, than a ghastly ravine stretched itself across our path, with briers and furze at the sides, and a bog at the bottom. A sea-mist likewise came on, which first hid the sea and then the cliff; it obscured alike the sky and the track, and would, I believe, have hidden Jacob himself, had I trusted him for one instant from my side; but this, I need hardly say, I did not do, but persisted in firmly holding his hand. Our motto was ever, like Excelsior, "Onwards, upwards."
It was about 8 p.m., that, thoroughly tired, we tramped into the village of —. It may be that my step was less elastic, and that Jacob's young moustache drooped so pensively as to be nearly invisible; but in me my native energy bore me bravely up, and lifted me nicely over the stones. We addressed ourselves to a decent road-side inn, but learnt that it was more than filled with travellers. It was, I ought to mention, Saturday night; and I found that the folks were disposed to regard with small charity and cold looks any unlucky pedestrians likely to cause trouble on the Sabbath-day. We proceeded further up the place, followed by a troop of children in a savage state. At the only other place which bore the semblance of an inn we were sturdily assured, that "Yil we might hae, but beds we shouldna." "They thocht that Tibbie Mackie up the toon let lodgings to travellers, but they were no sure; and she mightna care to be fashed wi' tramps on the Sabbath-e'en." On we journeyed to Tibbie Mackie, an aged and cankered female, who came out of her house to "glower" at us, and inquire, "where the puir soger-lad and that daft woman had come frae;" and then informed us that "her house was let to kent folk." So we proceeded further up this odious village, attended by an escort which increased momentarily in numbers. Every one refused to take us in, until I could have sat down and wept over their hardness of heart.
"Alas for the rarity
Of Christian charity!"
as poor Hood says.
At length, among the silent gazers around, one grave dark woman, after staring steadily for some minutes into a waterbutt, as though to collect inspiration from its depths, uttered in a solemn voice this remarkable sentence:
"I aye lets lodgings to decent bodies."
"You are the woman for us, then," exclaimed Jacob.
We did not hesitate to consider ourselves "decent bodies;" and, in the hope that our hostess might prove the same, we followed her into her house.
"Ye'll be man and wife noo?" she said interrogatively.
I answered with dignity that we were otherwise connected, and required accommodation accordingly.
We entered her kitchen, at the further end of which were two box-beds. My readers north of the Tweed will understand what these were; but for the benefit of the uninitiated, I would remark, that they are beds inserted in the wall like shelves in a wardrobe, or an oven, with this difference, they can't be drawn out. Between them was the passage down which it was presumable the other apartments were to be found. A great turf and wood fire blazed in the wide chimney, old, black, rambling, and vast as it was. About a dozen herrings were swimming in grease and frizzling in a frying-pan, filling the air with their odour. Eight wild looking young people, with their long hair dangling about their necks, were crouched round, eyeing us askance, and pushing each other into view.
Mrs. Jean pulled out a black pipe, exceedingly short in the stem, and having lit it, composedly puffed away. | was resolved to be accommodating, at any rate for that evening; so when she stuffed and handed me a similar article, I placed it between my lips, having previously explained to her that I preferred it without the tobacco being ignited.
Presently, an oldish man with a pack on his back entered. He was attired in a suit of rusty black, and had a
very red nose.
"Can I have a bed here?"
Mrs. Jean responded, without taking the pipe out of her mouth, in precisely the same words as before, "I aye lets lodgings to decent bodies."
So he likewise seated himself; and the scene appeared to me to resemble more or less an Arabian Night's Entertainment.
Being, I confess, sorely tired, I requested to be conducted to my bedroom. Mrs. Jean arose, and we proceeded along the passage,—which I discovered was only four feet long, and without a door at either end,—into a small room, in which were three beds; and the floor of it was of mud, or dirt, as children call it. One little window, composed of a thick pane of green glass, was fastened into the whitewashed wall, so as to give small hope of light, and none of air. Not another article of furniture was visible; and the good woman set down her candle, and, with her arms a-kimbo, looked round with an air which said, "Now what do you think of that? Are these not lodgings to set before a queen? Now, my heart sank within me; but having the fear of man and also of woman before my eyes, I merely said, "Is this my room?" To which she answered cheerily, "Ye'll lie i' that bed; for women aye lie safter than men (parenthetically), and your lad will lie i' that bed, and the packman—decent mon-- will lie i' the corner;" whereon she quitted me.
Some dreadful moments passed in dumb horror on my part. Violated propriety, injured modesty, stood aghast. Long venerated conventionalities were to be set at naught; and I, a single gentlewoman, against whom scandal had never yet lifted its forked tongue, was to be placed in the most delicate and questionable position. However, I recalled to memory all the suffering that had been endured by my sex since the creation, and braved my nerves to face the dread inevitable. I first rolled away the pillow and sheets, which looked as if they had afforded shelter to some score of decent bodies and their travelling companions. I was firmly resolved that not fear of torture or death should induce me to undress. I rolled my gown as tightly as possible round me, lay down, and drew the counterpane over me up to my chin. My first trial was Jacob's entry.
"Aunt Clem, where have you put yourself?"
"Here!" I exclaimed, dashing off my covering and sitting erect on my couch, so as to show him at once that I was in full dress. I then recounted to him our fate.
Poor nephew Jacob seemed a good deal more overcome than I anticipated or even wished; for he turned away, sitting down on his bed, and hiding his face in his hands. From the convulsive motion of his shoulders, he was evidently sobbing. At length, a kind of hysterical laugh warned me to recall him to actual life.
"Jacob," I said, " turn hither."
"Yes," he said, "Aunt Clem;" and his eyes were betrayingly bright, and the tears actually stood in them. "Yos, Aunt Clem; what am I to do?"
"Do?" I said desperately; "do as I have done, and get under your counterpane dressed as you are, and pray that we may neither of us be eaten up alive before morning."
"Nor burnt," he added piously; "for that pedlar's nose in the kitchen looks red-hot enough to set the bedclothes on fire, and spontaneous combustion is a common thing in this country."
"Wake me," I said, "if you think such a fate will really befall that disreputable wayfarer."
"I can kick you in a friendly manner," returned Jacob; "for I see my feet are close to your head."
Before long, the packman really came in. Under these trying circumstances, I braved the immediate dread of being smothered, and modestly drew the coverlet entirely over my head. In less than one minute his clothes were deposited in a little stack on the floor, and he was in bed. I was prey to the most agitating thoughts and fears. However, night sped on, and I slept.
It seemed the middle of the night, when a heavy tramp broke on my ear, approaching nearer and nearer. Mrs. Jean entered in her night-clothes, followed by what was undoubtedly the largest militiaman I ever saw in my life. Jacob kicked me violently about the head and shoulders; but it did not need that to call my attention to this gigantic apparition. Mrs. Jean again quitted us; and once more I shrouded myself under the coverlet, but this time in speechless terror. I cautiously uncovered one eye. There stood young colossus in the centre of the room, raw-boned, large-cared, with his yellow hair shorn half-way up his head behind to allow of his leather stock.
Moments flew on; still there he remained, apparently quite undecided where to bestow his huge person. Desperation nerved me. I had often heard of the powerful effect of the human eye. There was a hole in the counterpane the size of half-a-crown, and to this I applied one orbit, firing it with as much of a Van-Amburg expression as I could call up, and kept it unblinkingly and sternly on him. He gazed at it in return for full five minutes like one spell-bound. Exhausted nature could not have endured much longer, and that very eye was just about to wink, when he made a startling noise, and commenced flinging off his things at last, to my extreme relief, depositing himself in the "decent mon's" bed. The tossings and groanings of that unhappy son of Mars were something wonderful. He snorted and snored, turned and writhed, until I heard the pedlar exclaim:
"Hech, you wearyfu' mon, you gar me gang clean daft. Can ye no refrain frae daien yer mawnual exerceese i' bed?"
While I was trying to think whether this adventure could ever be so shaped as to admit of its being written even in my private diary, I fell asleep, and slept, I confess, soundly.
The woman appeared again, attired as before, in dusky white, and shook up the soldier, saying with a sort of pathos, "Get up my bonnie laddie; you've a weary tramp afore ye."
So he thrusts himself into his uniform, and cast one awe-stricken glance at my couch; but my one eye again glanced fiercely at him out of the porthole, and he disappeared.
Now, when the fresh sun streamed broadly into the little mud-floored, low-roofed chamber, I just popped out my head, thinking I would have one glimpse of the pedlar; and I hope I may be pardoned if I laughed at aught which was unwomanly and derogatory to behold. On his head was a conical white night-cap. His nose hung over the sheets like a rich ripe tomato. It is to be supposed he found the atmosphere warm, for he had thrust his feet out at the bottom of the bed, and at that very moment was engaged in reconnoitring his toes, fanning them gently backwards and forwards, wagging them separately, and regarding them stedfastly, probably with admiration. I counted their number,—ten toes, as black as ink, and distinct as obelisks,—and having noted their colour and appearance, I hid myself again, feeling that if the packman were airing his dusky extremities, it was no business of Clementina Spareshanks to spy into his recreations. When he vanished, which he did in due time, I summoned courage to leave my restless couch also.
Never, never shall I forget the nature of that night's reflections! It has ever been a consolation to me to think that under those trying circumstances I bore my part with fortitude and courage. That day I transferred to Jacob my purse, and returned home more than satisfied with that eventful episode in the life of a strong-minded gentlewoman.