My father was the Revd. G. W. Spooner, curate to the Revd. Dr. (John?) Davies, Rector of the Clement’s Church, Worcester, England. This Dr. Davies was grandfather of Charlotte Martin who married Arthur Wilson, my husband’s brother. While curate at the Clements, G. W. Spooner, among his other duties, used to visit and hold Bible class at a young ladies boarding school in Worcester. At this boarding school was a dark handsome girl named Elizabeth Jenkins. Elizabeth’s mother had died at the time of her birth, and her father while she was still young, so that she was an orphan. Her father had some house property in Worcester and when he died he left it in his will that if his daughter married and had issue, that the property was to go to these children, but that if she died childless it was to be given over to some charitable society. Mr. Spooner wooed and won Elizabeth Jenkins. At the time of her marriage she was scarcely 18 years of age. She had two children, a little boy & myself. My mother died almost immediately after my birth, and my little brother about the same time.
Up to the time of our Garden River Fire (1873) I had a beautiful little miniature of a mother which she had given to my father when they were engaged, ---and also a small oil painting in a gilt frame. She was a beautiful woman, delicate, dark, pretty, & of a lovely complexion. She was only 21 when she died, & I used often to visit her grave in St. George’s Church Yard a little way out of Worcester. For a short time my father was curate to the Rev. W. H. Havergal, father of the well known Frances Havergal, who was at that time Rector of Astley, Worcestershire. After that he was appointed curate in charge of the large Church & Parish of St. Peters, Worcester. The Vicar of St. Peters had a large house of his own out in the country & paid but little attention to the Parish leaving nearly everything in my father’s hand.
We occupied the Vicarage, a moderate sized brick house standing in a garden. A high brick wall, in which was a green entrance door, separated the garden from the street, and there was a path from the front door across the lawn to the vestry door of the church. On the left of this path was an archway of roses which led round to back of the church into the church yard, and there, as a child, I used often to go with my nurse to play among the grave stones. There was a door under the church leading into the vaults where all the coffins were, & the nurse girl used sometimes to try & frighten me about them. One day this door was standing partly open & the girl dared me to go & look in—saying that if I did go I would see the devil in the window at the end of the passage. Out of curiosity I went to peep, when she very wickedly pushed me in & closed the door. My frantic shrieks brought the old sexton who took me to my father & reported what the girl had done, & she was at once dismissed.
In the church there was a big square rector’s pew in which my Aunt Lydia, a maiden sister of my father’s who was keeping house for him, sat, with me beside her. The members of the Rector’s family only came occasionally & when they did so, they sat in the same pew. Their name was Foxton, there were 2 daughters the eldest of whom was stone deaf, & a boy named Frank. I was very young when we lived in Worcester & cannot remember much except trundling my hoop on the Bath road & the London road. & I know it made quite an impression on me when the cat had kittens.
One day my father went up to London, & when he came back, after some long talks with my Aunt Lydia which rather excited my curiosity, he at length told me that he had decided to leave Worcester & go to live in London. It seemed a dreadful thing to me to leave our Worcester home, & I began to cry; & my grief was increased when he said that he could not take me with him’ he was going to live in lodgings, & there would be no place for me, he said,—& he had arranged for me to go & live with another sister of his at Edgebaston, near Birmingham. I did not like this new aunt, Aunt Eliza. There was an old lady living with her who wore a wig & I was afraid of the old lady.
The old lady had a son who used to come home in the evening. There were no children in the house, & I never had any playmates. It was a miserable time for me, and in the spring I had measles & whooping cough. My father, at the end of a year, came down from London to see me, & I confided to him how unhappy I was & asked him to take me away. He was going to Malvern for his vacation, & he took me with him. There we fell in again with the Fostons, who were also there on a visit.
In the year 1848, my father married again. Among his parishioners, of St. Peter’s Worcester, was a Miss Benbow living with her aged mother & a Captain Smith who was Miss Benbow’s cousin. There were all pretty well on in life. But MissBenbow had a niece, by name Agnes Franklin and Agnes Franklin was destined to be my second mamma. She was a niece of the late Admiral Benbow, was an orphan, & lived with her Aunt Miss Benbow, in Worcester. She was about 22 years of age when my father married her. After the wedding, I went to live with them in London, being just 8 years old.
We occupied the first & second floor of a house in Portland Street, just opposite to Langham Hotel. We had our own furniture, but did not require to keep servants, as the people of the house, who lived in the basement, did everything for us. My father was at this time curate to the Rev. Chas. Baring, Rector of All Souls. He had 4 curates altogether. One of the other curates, who was unmarried, lived in the flat above us. Our house was one of a row, all of them built exactly alike. Coming in at the hall door, the rooms were to the left side, on the right hand side was the stair case & then came the wall of the adjoining house. The first door off the hall led into the dining room, & at the back of the dining room was my father’s study, connected with it by folding doors. Beyond the study was a small room for stores, & another door & stairway led down to the basement. The stairs from the front hall turned half way up & led to an upper landing—off which were the drawing room & father & mother’s bedroom over the dining & study, and my bedroom over the store room. The drawing room had 3 large windows & a balcony overlooking the street. We used to have some flowers in pots & boxes on the balcony. The curate who lived above us was named Cummins.
All Souls Church is situated in the most fashionable part of London, & the company numbered many of the elite of London Society. Mr. Spooner was Mr. Barings Lenin Curate. The Barings lived at 52 Queen Anne Street. There were Mr. & Mrs. Baring, their eldest daughter Ursula, familiarly spoken of as Lissie, who was Mr. B’s daughter by his first wife, & Dorothy, Emily & Francis by his 2nd wife. These latter were quite little children at that time, all younger than myself. There was also Mr. Chas Baring, a son by the first wife, who was a Christ Church, College, Oxford, but used to come home for vacation.
I was a lonely little girl in my father’s house, & made great friends with the Barings, and they were exceedingly kind to me, indeed they quite treated me as their own child, and I spent more time in their house that I did at my home, often, staying for weeks at a time and when they went away to the country they often took me with them. Little Francis especially was devoted to me. I remember sometimes a solemn footman arriving at our door with a little pencil note written in his big letters by Francis—“Dear Fannie, Will you come over & stay all day with us & go out walking both times with us. From Francis.” He used to say, “When I grow up to be a man I’m going to marry Fanny Spooner.” The walks out with the Baring children & their nurses used to be generally along Portland Place & thence into Rupert’s Park. My brother Hardwicke, was born while we were living in London.
In the year 1857 was the great Exhibition. The first of its kind that had ever been held. I was 11 years old & will remember going to see it. Among the good people who were friendly to me at this time were old Lady Watson & Lady Frederick Watson, who lived together in Portland Place, It was old lady Watson who took me to see the Exhibition. She was very jolly & good-tempered. I remember her one day laughing at me at desert for trying to eat my raisins & almonds with a fork. I suppose it was that I did not want to make my fingers sticky. I used to like going ut with Lady Watson in her carriage. She had a pair of horses, & 2 footmen with powdered wigs standing up behind. But my greatest friends of all were the Barings. Mr. Baring, afterwards, Bishop Baring was so jolly with children & always ready for a romp with us. The daughter, Lissie, used every week to have a number of bread and coal tickets for the poor come to her in paper bags, & we all used to make a grab for these bags and blow them full & pop them at one another after they were done with. Mr. Barry used to have great romps with us blowing & popping the bags. The Barings’ nurse, Miss Winkwort, was called Nannie, & she was a great favorite with us all—the last time I saw Nannie was when I was in England with my 2 eldest boys & Flossie & we went to stay with the Bishop at Auckland Castle. She was at that time their housekeeper.
The first big children’s party I ever went to was a very grand one at the Roundell Palmers’. His wife was Lady Laura. There was a lovely Christmas Tree & I received a lot of presents. I remember it was at this party that Mr. Baring saw me sipping a cup of coffee. I was not fond of coffee, & I suppose he knew it & thought I was taking a little too long over it. So he sent a footman to take it away & give me a cup of tea instead; it made me feel rather ashamed. Another time he saw me breaking off the crust all round a jam tartlet, leaving the jammy part till last, & he told a footman to take my plate away.
One Christmas Eve, It was the year 1852, we children & Mrs. Baring were all asked each of us, —if we could have whatever we liked for a present, what we would choose. “Oh, I said, I know what I would choose; I would like to have more than anything else a bible & prayer book all bound together.” After dinner I was surprised when Lissie came in with her things on. She said that she & Charles were going out to do some shopping. The next morning there was a parcel on my plate at breakfast time, & on opening it I found a beautiful church service, a Christmas present from Mr. Baring. I was so pleased to take it with me to church, & when the psalms were announced, I found them as I thought quite correctly & was all prepared to make the responses, but what was my dismay to find that the wording was different. I looked up at Charles Baring, who was next to me, & whispered, “oh Charlie it is all wrong’” He could hardly keep his countenance when he glanced down at my book & saw that I had found the psalms for today in the Bible instead of in the prayer book part of the book.
Mr. Baring took temporary duty in the summer of a small place called Winchfield, near to the Royal town of Windsor. These changes to the country, I greatly enjoyed we used to go blackberrying along the hedgerows. And when the Queen was away we had a official permit to visit Windsor Castle & saw a great many things to which the general public are never admitted. During these days in London, I had no regular schooling. Sometimes I did lessons with the Baring children, but for the most part it was my father who taught me, & he was often very impatient & found me I fear a very dull pupil.
Among my other friends were the Hardy’s of Dunstall Hall, whose London house was on Carleton Houses Terrace, next door W. S. Gladstone, the Liberal leader, of such wide fame. The family consisted of old Mr. Hardy, a widower, & his 5 daughters. The 3 sons, John, Charles, & Gathorne were all married. John became Sir John Hardy of Dunstall Hall: Gathorne became Home Secretary under Disraeli, & was afterward created Viscount Cranbrook Charles died. The 5 daughters, after their father’s death, continued to reside in London, a 5 Portland Place.
It was through the Hardys’ that my father left London & accepted the living of Dunstall in Staffordshire. In the 1852 we moved to our new home. And just at the same time that we were making this change, Mr. Baring was offered the See of Gloucester & Bristol, accepted it, & was made Bishop. He was succeeded at All Souls by Dr. Thompson, afterwards Archbishop of York. Miss Baring had been ailing for some time & the doctors feared consumption. Her father had taken her to Madeira for the winter. They hoped that the change from London to Gloucestershire might benefit her health. The Bishop would not reside at the Palace in Gloucester was it was in a dilapidated stated & not considered healthy. They went temporarily to reside at Lord John Russell’s seat, Rodborough Manor near Stroud, which he had kindly offered them. Later on they bout a place for themselves, near Stroud, called “The Highlands”.
When we first arrived at Dunstall, we spent a couple of weeks at the Hall, with the Hardys, as the Vicarage was not ready for us. Both Church & Vicarage were newly built & my father was the first Vicar. Dunstall Hall was a lovely place, a large substantial house with a large conservatory & a deer park. The church was an exquisite piece of architecture, the walls of the chancel lined with alabaster, the pillars of the pulpit of malachite, the chancel floor tessellated marble, carved oak stalls & …
The Vicarage was a substantial brick house with several gables, stone mullioned windows, the hall ran the whole length of the house, a stained glass hall door set in a deep stone porch. The Hardys laid out the garden for us with lawns, flower beds & shrubbing. I planted ivy round the house, & when my husband & myself paid a visit there in 1880 the whole side of the house was thick with green.
While we were at Dunstall, I attended a ladies’ school kept by the ladies, the Misses Deacon: some were boarders & some day-pupo;s. about 20 in all. It was about 1½ mile distant from the Vicarage, across the fields. I had to be there about 10 o’clock, had my dinner there in the middle of the day & came back in the afternoon. Very often the Hardy’s would call for me in their carriage & take me home. Old Sir John Hardy died about the year 1855. The 5 daughters (Isabel, Charlotte, Matilda, Marian, Georgina) then went to live in London, & the eldest brother John, with his wife & family, came to reside at the Hall. They had 4 children, all boys: Reginald, the eldest was a few years younger than myself; then came Gerald, Henry, & Lawrence,. At Baston under Reedwood, where my school was, the Rev. Henry Cooper was Vicar, a dear kind old man, living with his sister, whom we used to speak of as “dear old Aunt Jane”. I often stayed with them; & sometimes Mr. Cooper would drive me home from school. There were very well off & kept two carriages. Another sister of Mr. Cooper was Mrs. Arden, whose husband was Rector of Walton on Trent. A nephew of his came out to British Columbia & did duty under Bishop Hill.
Two other dear friends of mine were Rev. John & Mrs. Clay, at the Vicarage at Stapleton, 5 or 6 miles off. They had 2 children Jessie & John who were about my own age. I sometimes went on a fortnights visit to their house. They were wealthy & very well connected. At this time I was very delicate, & on that account was not allowed to do many lessons. My chief friend at school was Agnes Greasley, daughter of Lady Greasley. I do not know what has become of her. I often stopped at the Hall with Mr. & Mrs. Hardy & was treated quite as one of the family; indeed Mrs. Hardy used to say she would like to adopt me for her daughter. I used to arrange the flowers for her in the house, & she would take me for long drives in her pony carriage.
About the year 1857 Mrs. Spooner began to show signs of consumption; & Bishop Baring, thinking that a change might benefit her health, kindly offered my father the living of Inglesham in his own Diocese. It was thought that the air of Wilshire would suit mamma’s health better than that of Staffordshire, so we decided to make the move. During our five years at Dunstall, 3 children had been born, —Alan, Annie, and Richard, & Willie, —so that we were 5 children in all. We went to Inglesham in the year 1858. The Vicarage house was rather a disappointment; it was a tumble down old place, damp, & had bad drainage, —but the garden was nice & there was a padlock & some glebe land. The church was quaint & very old, having been built in the reign of King John. There was a Lady Chapel & niches in the walls on which the figures of saints had formerly stood. The Vicarage had casement windows with diamond panes of glass, & the whole house was covered up with roses, grape vines & other creepers. We were 5 miles from Highworth & a mile from Lechlade. The approach to the house was by a narrow lane between hedges turning off from the turnpike road. At the end of this lane was a carriage gate leading into the Vicarage garden. To the left of this was another gate leading into a field & round along the garden wall of the Church which was just beyond the Vicarage. The field belonged to a farmer whose house could be seen from the church, & there was another gate from the field into the church yard. On entering the garden gate of the Vicarage there was an oval sloped lawn with a carriage drive round it then a graveled space in front of the hall door, and a long flower bed against the garden wall opposite. A screen door in the wall at the far corner of the house led into the church yard. On entering the hall door, there was the hall floored with oil cloth, the Dining room door on the right hand side, the Drawing door on the left. Each had 2 rather small casement windows. At the back of the hall was a swing door leading to the landing at the foot of the stairs – a step down took to a stone passage leading to the kitchen & washhouse, & 3 steps down of the other side of the stair landing led to the larder & cellar. All of the arrangements were very old fashioned & cold & damp. Upstairs there were my father’s & mamma’s bedroom over the drawing room, with the night nursery at back over the larder; and over the dining room was the day nursery.
My father’s study, in which Hardwicke & Alan slept, was over the kitchen; & my bedroom was in the front of the house over the Hall. My room had a diamond pane casement window, one side of which opened like a door; climbing outside the window was a Banksia rose & a grape vine. My bed was a single iron one, with its head just behind the door & its foot towards the window. At the foot of the bed was a dressing table with 3 drawers on either side. In the middle drawer I kept my brush & comb, & in the other drawers my clothes. Under the window was a writing table — with a small chair beside it. In one corner by the window were corner shelves with curtains for my dresses. On the other side of the room was the washstand & a chair. Over the washstand were two book shelves.
Two more children were born at Inglesham, Willie & Jessie. My Mamma had not benefited by the change as had been hoped, but was getting gradually worse. It was soon after our arrival at Inglesham that the Barings sent an invitation for us to pay them a visit at Stroud. My father & mamma & myself went together & we stayed with them about 10 days. Soon after this the Bishop came to us for confirmation, & he was horrified to see the condition of the house. He went all over it & made a thorough investigation, & then said that the whole place must be thoroughly renovated & put into proper repair, & he applied for a grant from Queen Anne’s bounty to assist in meeting the expense, besides contributing liberally himself. Mrs. Spooner, when we first got to Inglesham was able to walk out a little, then by the doctor’s advice we got a donkey for her to ride on; but the exertion of riding soon proved too much for her. Our friends the Lemanns’ of Layford, were very kind in taking her for drives in their pony carriage; — later on my father got a bath chair for her in which our gardener Rogers wheeled her about.
My youngest little sister, Jessie, was just a year old — when we were visited by that dread disease, diphtheria. It was in the spring of 1861. The disease was a comparatively new one at that time; and our doctor, Dr. Powell of Lechlade, did not appear to understand the symptoms. My two little brothers, Richard & Willie, were the first ones attacked. Mary Ann, the nurse, called me into the nursery to see them; they were both very poorly with sore throats & bad colds. We said nothing to Mrs. Spooner as she was so ill herself, but gave them household remedies & rubbed goose grease on their throats. We were just at the time on the point of moving into another house, a large one, in Lechlade, while the vicarage under went repairs. All our furniture was being packed & moved over to the other house, so there was the greatest upset & confusion. The next day the two children were worse, & we sent for Dr. Powell; he came & examined them & sent over some medicine but did not seem to think there was much the matter. The day following was the day for the move. In the morning nurse came & asked me to come to see Willie as she thought he was very ill. I was horrified by his appearance; & when the fly came to take us in detachments to the new house, I proposed that I & nurse should go first with the 2 sick children & call round at Dr. Powell’s on our way. Happily the doctor was at home, & when he came to the carriage door & saw the 2 children he was greatly alarmed & told us to drive at once to the house, & he would follow immediately. I sent over for the monthly nurse, who was a very nice woman, & she came at once & helped me nurse the children, whiled Mary Ann hustled round getting the furniture & things into place. Everything was upside down & boxes not yet unpacked, but we managed to get the nursery fairly comfortable — & the 2 little sick ones were put to bed.
It is a strange thing that about a week or ten days before the children were taken ill I had a most horrible dream. I was in some strange house & in a strange room & I wanted to dress, but everything I took hold of was black— all the cloths hanging round the room was black— & looking out the window I saw 3 coffins being carried away from the house. The dream made a great impression on me, & I told it next day to my father. He told me it was all nonsense & not to think any more about it; — but on no account to say anything about it to my Mamma. And now this dream of mine came true only too literally — for in a few days my two little brothers & my little sister Annie were dead, & their coffins were carried over to the church for burial.
But to go back to the day we made the move. After settling the 2 sick children in with the monthly nurse, I went back to the Vicarage in the fly; & on the next trip my father & mamma & the rest of the children went off, leaving myself & the cook alone in the old house. What was left of the furniture & things we packed away in the coach house. This kept us busy until the evening, when we locked the house up & gave the key to old Rogers, the gardener, who lived with his wife close by. Then the fly came again & we drove to the other house; it was a horrible night, & I shall not soon forget it, howling wind & pouring rain. When we got to the place there seemed to be lights in all the windows, & everything either was in utmost confusion, no bedrooms ready, & everything upside down. The doctor had been with the children nearly all day, & had been putting leeches on their throats. Poor little Willie sank rapidly & at 12 that night he was dead. His poor little body was laid out in the room that was to have been mine. I was up all night helping the nurse. My father had to remain with mamma who was half crazy with grief & coughing. Next morning was Sunday, & a very sad Sunday it was, for little Richard died at 9 am. Annie also had begun to sicken. My father sent word over to the Church that there would be no services; and then he decided that there must be further advice— & sent a man over on horseback to Cirencester to summon a noted doctor. On his arrival he said at once that the disease was diphtheria & roundly upbraided Dr. Powell for having applied leeches. He then looked at Annie & said he was afraid we should lose her, & he examined the throats of all. He cautioned me to take great care of myself & warned me that I should probably be the next. I had a little sore throat, & remember sitting over the fire that Sunday evening feeling thoroughly miserable. Hardwicke & the baby Jessie both escaped, but Alan was very ill. For myself, I just managed to crawl about until my sister Annie died. Then I gave up & was put to bed. Mamma was devoted to little Annie, & insisted on having her in her room with her during the few days she was ill. One night I was lying on the sofa in the sitting room — when the monthly nurse crept softly through the room carrying something wrapped in a sheet. She thought I was asleep, but I saw her & it gave me a terrible shock. I shuddered & screamed, & from that time became very ill. A bed was made up for me in the night nursery’ my little brother, Alan, being ill in the same room. Alan recovered, but I was ill for a long time.
All the people in the neighborhood were exceedingly kind during our great trouble. There was a wealthy widow lady with several children living just across the road who kept sending over everything we could want in the way of eatables & delicacies. When she heard it was diphtheria, she took fright & went away with her children, but her kindly gifts continued to arrive as usual as she had left orders with the servants for them to be continued, — & we did not know that she had left until long afterward. It was at this time that I got to know the Moores of Coleshill. They had several times been to visit us. Mr. S. W. Moore was steward to the Earl of Radmor. His wife was slightly deformed, but they were both very kind people & when Mrs. Moore heard how ill I was, she insisted on my coming to them on a visit as soon as I should be well enough to travel. They came for me in their carriage & I was wrapped up & laid on a mattress, & on arriving at Coleshill was carried up to the bedroom that had been prepared for me. It was the large spare room with a window facing the park. Bessie Moore had a bed in the room & made herself my attendant & was exceedingly kind. It (……0?) days I was able to leave my bed & lie on the sofa. In the meantime my mamma had been growing rapidly worse & was now in the last stages of consumption, they kept her alive with cod liver oil, glycerin, cream & raw oysters. She knew that her end was near, & was very anxious to see me before she died, indeed they said that her will was so strong that she kept herself alive until I was able to come to her. As soon as I was fit to take the long drive— of about 5 miles, Mrs. Moore drove me over in the carriage. They were back then in the Vicarage, & a bed had been made for Mama in the drawing room. When she got there, Mrs. Moore remained in the carriage, & I went alone into the sickroom. Mamma wanted to see me alone, & she was a good deal overcome; she asked me to take care of Jessie & said what she wished done with her things. She was very weak & low & reduced almost to a skeleton. She died that same night.
I only stayed a short time, & then drove back with Mrs. Moore to Coleshill. Mrs. Moore saw about the mourning, & got everything done. As soon as I was well enough I went on a long visit of 5 or 6 weeks to the Barings, at Stroud. The Bishop had just been appointed to Durham. While there I was introduced to Mr. Thompson, who succeeded Bishop Baring as Bishop of Gloucester & Bristol, & afterwards became Archbishop of York. Soon after this Margaret Deacon paid a visit to us at Inglesham, & when she left she took me with her to Barton for a short visit. When I left there, I went on a long visit to the Hardys at Dunstell Hall. That autumn, the same year in which I had had the diphtheria, I came of age, & came in for the house property in Worcester which my grandfather had left to my mother & to the children after her. Mr. S. W. Moore, Rev. F. P. Lemann, & Mr. S. W. Cropper were appointed trustees. I often used to go over to the Lemann’s, Langford being about 5 miles from Inglesham; Mrs. Lemann was very kind & very fond of me, treating me almost as her own daughter.
When my Father married again I was not needed as about a year after Mamma’s death, I left home altogether & went to live with the Lemann’s. It was a dear old Rectory with a lovely garden, a conservatory opening off the Dining room. On entering the hall door, was a larger square hall with a stove in it, chairs, table & stained glass windows. To the left was the door into the drawing room & beyond that the Dining room. The Lemanns’ had travelled a great deal on the continent & the walls were all covered with choice paintings & photographs of foreign scenes, & shelves & whatnots with foreign curiosities. Upstairs the large room over the drawing room was the spare room; next to that was a drawing room; & then my bedroom, containing a single iron bestead, dressing table in front of the window, & a fireplace in which in cold weather I always had a nice bright fire. Down a couple of steps led to Mr. & Mrs. Lemann’s bedroom, & next to them was Lady Qusley’s oom. Lady Qusley was Mr. Lemann’s mother, she was about 81 years of age & somewhat childish. Her maid Jane Girt (who came out with me to Canada) slept in her room & was constantly with her. The other servants were Rachel the cook, White the parlor maid, Polly housemaid, & Burdock the coachman, also the old gardener. While with the Lehmann’s I visited a good many people in the neighborhood. There were the Rices at Fairford. Mr. Rice was Rector of Fairford, & on the death of his uncle became Lord Dynevor of Dynevor Castle. Then there was Lady Ducie & her 2 daughter Lady Alice & Lady Elennor Morton; and Lord & Lady DeMorley & their daughters, the Misses Pononley; Also Mr. & Mrs. Latham, a dear old couple, at the Recto at Queenington; the Milwards of the Manor House, Lechlade.
Several times I went on a long visit to the Moores’ at Coleshill. The Moores’ had 2 or 3 gentlemen’s sons as farm pupils, & there were several girl fiends of Bessie Moore who used to visit at the house, Mary & Fanny Bagette & their cousin Isabel Bagette . We used to have good fun when there were a number of us together. The house was a good large one, two storeys high & covered in creepers. There was a large square hall, off which opened the drawing room & dining room on the right side, & on the left was the stair case leading up to the upper landing with a railing from which one could look down on the hall. Just beyond the dining room door was a swing baize door leading to the kitchens; and passing through the dining room one came to a door which led into a passage by which one could enter the garden or go on into the office. Upstairs was a long narrow passage on which opened the bedrooms. Over the drawing room was the large spare room which I generally occupied. Bessie’s & Willie’s Moore’s rooms over the hall. Old Mrs. Mills, Mr. Moore’s mother when on a visit had a room over the dining room, next along the passage a was a pupils room, afterwards occupied by E. F. Wilson: next to that, at the end of the passage, was Mr & Mrs. Moore’s room. Then down a step were 2 more pupil’s rooms. The Moores had 3 maid servants, Eliza, Mary & the cook; George Peeple was their coachman, & then was a boy in buttons.
I was on a visit to Coleshill in the summer of 1863, when I first met my future husband. He was a farm pupil of the Moores’ until about June 1865 when he migrated to Canada. He was away two years, & we were not engaged until his return home to England in 1867. In the meantime I was living the greater part of the time with the Lemann’s at Langford, & had several other opportunities of marriage. Mr. Tilbury, the Lemann’s curate, paid me attention, but was not encouraged. Another pupil of the Moore’s was Robert Humphrey. This young gentleman went so far as to propose. & urged on by circumstances & the advice of friends I became entangled in an engagement & went to stay with his people at Brighton. However it ended in being broken off, & I was very glad to be released & to send him back his presents and letters. After Brighton I went to Reading to stay at Colonel Bagette’s, the father of Mary & Fanny B. I had left a letter at the Humphreys, breaking off my engagement, & came away by a early train. Robert Humphrey followed me to Reading & we had rather a stormy interview in the Bagette’s house, but I was firm.
From this I went to stay with the Baring’s at the Isle of Wight; they were visiting there on account of Lissie’s health’ and I confided all my troubles to dear Mrs. Baring. From the Isle of Wight I went to Droxford to stay with my friend Mary, formally, Bagette, but now Mrs. Leakey. She was very pleased that I had broken off my engagement, & told me that she had had several letters from E. F. Wilson, & was quite sure that he wanted to marry me.
When E. F. Wilson got home to England in 1867 one of the first things he did was to write to me directly & I was not long in answering. The result was that he was invited to Droxford, & there Mary Leakey invited me; & when I arrived at the station there was my beloved on the platform to meet me, & we had a lovely drive together in the pony carriage. Good Isabel Bagette, had come part of the way to the station, & was sitting under the hedge waiting for us, & made this proper by sitting on the back seat of the pony carriage just before we drove into the village.
The wedding was at Langford Church on June 3rd 1868. I had six bridesmaids, Pops & Fanny Lemann, (nieces of the Lemann’s), Mary Powell, Bessie Moore, Louisa Wilson & Fanny Bagette. My husband’s father, his sister Lucy, & his brother Arthur were present; also Rev. D. B. Hankin. My brother Hardwicke gave me away, & the marriage was performed by the Rev. Daniel Wilson & the Rev. F. G. Lemann. We were happy for ever after.