Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2), Frances Ann Kemble [i can read book club .txt] 📗

And Lasses, Dancing The Real Old

     Morris-Dance, With Their Handkerchiefs Flying, And In All The

     Rustic Elegance Of Apparel Which They Could Command For The

     Occasion. After Them Followed A Very Good Village Band, And Then A

     Species Of Flowery Canopy, Under Which Walked A Man And Woman

     Covered With Finery, Who, Lord W---- Told Me, Represented Adam And

     Eve. The Procession Closed With A _Fool_ Fantastically Dressed Out,

     And Carrying The Classical Bladder At The End Of His Stick. They

     Drew Up Before The House And Danced Their Morris-Dance For Us. The

     Scraps Of Old Poetry Which Came Into My Head, The Contrast Between

     This Pretty Picture Of A Bygone Time And The Modern But By No Means

     Unpicturesque Group Assembled Under The Portico, Filled My Mind

     With The Pleasantest Ideas, And I Was Quite Sorry When The Rural

     Pageant Wound Up The Woody Heights Again, And The Last Shout And

     Peal Of Music Came Back Across The Sunny Lawn. I Am Very Glad I Saw

     It. I Have Visited, Too, Hopwood Hall, An Enchanting Old House In

     The Neighborhood Of Heaton, Some Parts Of Which Are As Old As The

     Reign Of Edward The First. The Gloomy But Comfortable Oak Rooms,

     The Beautiful And Curious Carving Of Which Might Afford One Days Of

     Entertaining Study, The Low, Latticed Windows, And Intricate,

     Winding, Up-And-Down Passages, Contrasted And Combined With All The

     Elegant Adornments Of Modern Luxury, And The Pretty Country In

     Which The House Is Situated, All Delighted Me. I Must Leave Off

     Writing To You Now; I Have To Dress, And Dine At Three, Which I Am

     Sorry For. Thank You For Mrs. Hemans's Beautiful Lines, Which Made

     Me Cry Very Heartily. I Have Not Been Altogether Well For The Last

     Few Days, And Am Feeling Tired And Out Of Spirits; If I Can Get A

     Few Days' Quiet Enjoyment Of The Country At Heaton, I Shall Feel

     Fitter For My Winter Work Than I Do Now.

Volume 1 Chapter 16 Pg 91

 

 

                                       MANCHESTER, September 20, 1830.

     MY DEAREST H----,

 

     I Did Not Answer Your Letter Which I Received At Heaton, Because

     The Latter Part Of My Stay There Was Much Engrossed By Walking,

     Riding, Playing Battledore And Shuttlecock, Singing, And Being

     Exceedingly Busy All Day Long About Nothing. I Have Just Left It

     For This Place, Where We Stop To-Night On Our Way To Stafford;

     Heaton Was Looking Lovely In All The Beauty Of Its Autumnal

     Foliage, Lighted By Bright Autumnal Skies, And I Am Rather Glad I

     Did Not Answer You Before, As It Is A Consolatory Occupation To Do

     So Now.

 

     I Am Going With My Mother To Stay A Day At Stafford With My

     Godmother, An Old And Attached Friend Of Hers, After Which We

     Proceed Into Buckinghamshire To Join My Aunt Dall And Henry And My

     Sister, Who Are Staying There; And We Shall All Return To London

     Together For The Opening Of The Theater, Which I Think Will Take

     Place On The First Of Next Month. I Could Have Wished To Be Going

     Immediately To My Work; I Should Have Preferred Screwing My Courage

     To My Professional Tasks At Once, Instead Of Loitering By Way Of

     Pleasure On The Road. Besides That, In My Visit To Buckinghamshire

     I Come In Contact With Persons Whose Society Is Not Very Agreeable

     To Me. My Mother, However, Made A Great Sacrifice In Giving Up Her

     Fishing, Which She Was Enjoying Very Much, To Come And Chaperon Me

     At Heaton, Where There Is No Fishing So Good As At Aston Clinton,

     So That I Am Bound To Submit Cheerfully To Her Wishes In The

     Present Instance.

 

     You Probably Have By This Time Heard And Read Accounts Of The

     Opening Of The Railroad, And The Fearful Accident Which Occurred At

     It, For The Papers Are Full Of Nothing Else. The Accident You

     Mention _Did_ Occur, But Though The Unfortunate Man Who Was Killed

     Bore Mr. Stephenson's Name, He Was Not Related To Him. I Will Tell

     You Something Of The Events On The 15th, As, Though You May Be

     Acquainted With The Circumstances Of Poor Mr. Huskisson's Death,

     None But An Eyewitness Of The Whole Scene Can Form A Conception Of

     It. I Told You That We Had Had Places Given To Us, And It Was The

     Main Purpose Of Our Returning From Birmingham To Manchester To Be

     Present At What Promised To Be One Of The Most Striking Events In

     The Scientific Annals Of Our Country. We Started On Wednesday Last,

     To The Number Of About Eight Hundred People, In Carriages

     Constructed As I Before Described To You. The Most Intense

     Curiosity And Excitement Prevailed, And, Though The Weather Was

     Uncertain, Enormous Masses Of Densely Packed People Lined The Road,

     Shouting And Waving Hats And Handkerchiefs As We Flew By Them. What

     With The Sight And Sound Of These Cheering Multitudes And The

     Tremendous Velocity With Which We Were Borne Past Them, My Spirits

     Rose To The True Champagne Height, And I Never Enjoyed Anything So

     Much As The First Hour Of Our Progress. I Had Been Unluckily

     Separated From My Mother In The First Distribution Of Places, But

     By An Exchange Of Seats Which She Was Enabled To Make She Rejoined

Volume 1 Chapter 16 Pg 92

 Which Was Considerably

     Damped By Finding That She Was Frightened To Death, And Intent Upon

     Nothing But Devising Means Of Escaping From A Situation Which

     Appeared To Her To Threaten With Instant Annihilation Herself And

     All Her Traveling Companions. While I Was Chewing The Cud Of This

     Disappointment, Which Was Rather Bitter, As I Had Expected Her To

     Be As Delighted As Myself With Our Excursion, A Man Flew By Us,

     Calling Out Through A Speaking-Trumpet To Stop The Engine, For That

     Somebody In The Directors' Carriage Had Sustained An Injury. We

     Were All Stopped Accordingly, And Presently A Hundred Voices Were

     Heard Exclaiming That Mr. Huskisson Was Killed; The Confusion That

     Ensued Is Indescribable: The Calling Out From Carriage To Carriage

     To Ascertain The Truth, The Contrary Reports Which Were Sent Back

     To Us, The Hundred Questions Eagerly Uttered At Once, And The

     Repeated And Urgent Demands For Surgical Assistance, Created A

     Sudden Turmoil That Was Quite Sickening. At Last We Distinctly

     Ascertained That The Unfortunate Man's Thigh Was Broken. From Lady

     W----, Who Was In The Duke's Carriage, And Within Three Yards Of

     The Spot Where The Accident Happened, I Had The Following Details,

     The Horror Of Witnessing Which We Were Spared Through Our Situation

     Behind The Great Carriage. The Engine Had Stopped To Take In A

     Supply Of Water, And Several Of The Gentlemen In The Directors'

     Carriage Had Jumped Out To Look About Them. Lord W----, Count

     Batthyany, Count Matuscenitz, And Mr. Huskisson Among The Rest Were

     Standing Talking In The Middle Of The Road, When An Engine On The

     Other Line, Which Was Parading Up And Down Merely To Show Its

     Speed, Was Seen Coming Down Upon Them Like Lightning. The Most

     Active Of Those In Peril Sprang Back Into Their Seats: Lord W----

     Saved His Life Only By Rushing Behind The Duke's Carriage, And

     Count Matuscenitz Had But Just Leaped Into It, With The Engine All

     But Touching His Heels As He Did So; While Poor Mr. Huskisson, Less

     Active From The Effects Of Age And Ill Health, Bewildered, Too, By

     The Frantic Cries Of "Stop The Engine! Clear The Track!" That

     Resounded On All Sides, Completely Lost His Head, Looked Helplessly

     To The Right And Left, And Was Instantaneously Prostrated By The

     Fatal Machine, Which Dashed Down Like A Thunderbolt Upon Him, And

     Passed Over His Leg, Smashing And Mangling It In The Most Horrible

     Way. (Lady W---- Said She Distinctly Heard The Crushing Of The

     Bone.) So Terrible Was The Effect Of The Appalling Accident That,

     Except That Ghastly "Crushing" And Poor Mrs. Huskisson's Piercing

     Shriek, Not A Sound Was Heard Or A Word Uttered Among The Immediate

     Spectators Of The Catastrophe. Lord W---- Was The First To Raise

     The Poor Sufferer, And Calling To Aid His Surgical Skill, Which Is

     Considerable, He Tied Up The Severed Artery, And For A Time, At

     Least, Prevented Death By Loss Of Blood. Mr. Huskisson Was Then

     Placed In A Carriage With His Wife And Lord W----, And The Engine,

     Having Been Detached From The Director's Carriage, Conveyed Them To

     Manchester. So Great Was The Shock Produced Upon The Whole Party By

     This Event, That The Duke Of Wellington Declared His Intention Not

     To Proceed, But To Return Immediately To Liverpool. However, Upon

     Its Being Represented To Him That The Whole Population Of

     Manchester Had Turned Out To Witness The Procession, And That A

     Disappointment Might Give Rise To Riots And Disturbances, He

     Consented To Go On, And Gloomily Enough The Rest Of The Journey Was

Volume 1 Chapter 16 Pg 93

     Accomplished. We Had Intended Returning To Liverpool By The

     Railroad, But Lady W----, Who Seized Upon Me In The Midst Of The

     Crowd, Persuaded Us To Accompany Her Home, Which We Gladly Did.

     Lord W---- Did Not Return Till Past Ten O'clock, At Which Hour He

     Brought The Intelligence Of Mr. Huskisson's Death. I Need Not Tell

     You Of The Sort Of Whispering Awe Which This Event Threw Over Our

     Whole Circle, And Yet, Great As Was The Horror Excited By It, I

     Could Not Help Feeling How Evanescent The Effect Of It Was After

     All. The Shuddering Terror Of Seeing Our Fellow-Creature Thus

     Struck Down By Our Side, And The Breathless Thankfulness For Our

     Own Preservation, Rendered The First Evening Of Our Party At Heaton

     Almost Solemn; But The Next Day The Occurrence Became A Subject Of

     Earnest, It Is True, But Free Discussion; And After That, Was