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Mark Rutherford >> More Pages from a Journal
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13 Transcribed from the 1910 Oxford University Press edition by David
Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
MORE PAGES FROM A JOURNAL WITH OTHER PAPERS
Contents:
A Bad Dream
Esther
Kate Radcliffe
Mr. Whittaker's Retirement
Confessions of a Self-tormentor
A letter to the 'Rambler'
A letter from the Authoress of 'Judith Crowhurst'
Clearing-up after a storm in January
The end of the North Wind
Romney Marsh
Axmouth
The Preacher and the Sea
Conversion
July
A Sunday morning in November
Under Beachy Head: December
24th December
Dreaming
Ourselves
The Riddle
An Epoch
Belief
Extracts from a diary on the Quantocks
Godwin and Wordsworth
Notes
Shakespeare
A BAD DREAM
Miss Toller, a lady about forty years old, kept a boarding-house,
called Russell House, at Brighton, in a dull but genteel part of the
town--so dull that even those fortunate inhabitants who were reputed
to have resources in themselves were relieved by a walk to the shops
or by a German band. Miss Toller could not afford to be nearer the
front. Rents were too high for her, even in the next street, which
claimed a sea-view sideways through the bow-windows. She was the
daughter of a farmer in Northamptonshire, and till she came to
Brighton had lived at home. When she was five-and-twenty her mother
died, and in two years her father married again. The second wife
was a widow, good-looking but hard, and had a temper. She made
herself very disagreeable to Miss Toller, and the husband took the
wife's part. Miss Toller therefore left the farm at Barton Sluice,
and with a little money that belonged to her purchased the goodwill
and furniture of Russell House. She brought with her a
Northamptonshire girl as servant, and the two shared the work
between them. At the time when this history begins she had five
lodgers, all of whom had been with her six months, and one for more
than a year.
Mrs. Poulter, the senior in residence of the five, was the widow of
a retired paymaster in the Navy. She was between fifty and sixty, a
big, portly woman. After her husband was pensioned she lived in
Southsea. As he belonged to the civilian branch, Mrs. Poulter had
to fight undauntedly in order to maintain a calling acquaintance
with the wives of executive officers, and in fact the highest she
had on her list was a commander's lady. When Paymaster Poulter
died, and his pension ceased, she gave up the struggle. She had no
children, and moved to Brighton with an annuity of 150 pounds a year
derived from her husband's insurance of 2000 pounds, and a life
interest in some property left by her mother.
Mr. Goacher was a bachelor clergyman of about forty. He read
prayers, presided over the book-club, and by a judicious expenditure
of oil prevented friction between the other boarders. It was
understood that he had been compelled to give up clerical duty by
what is called clergyman's sore-throat. It was not known whether he
had been vicar, rector, or curate, but he wore the usual white neck-
band and a soft, low felt hat, he was clean-shaven, his letters were
addressed 'Reverend,' he was not bad-looking; and these vouchers
were considered sufficient.
Mrs. Mudge was the widow of a tradesman in London. She was better
off than any of the other lodgers, and drank claret at twenty
shillings a dozen.
Miss Everard, the youngest of the party, was a French mistress, but
English by birth, and gave lessons in two or three schools. She was
never at home on weekdays excepting at breakfast and dinner. After
dinner she generally corrected exercises in her bedroom, but when
she was not busy she sat in the drawing-room to save fire and light.
Miss Taggart was the daughter of a country doctor. Both her parents
were dead, and she was poor. She had a reputation for being
enlightened, as she was not regular in her attendance at public
worship on Sunday, and did not always go to the same church. She
told Mrs. Poulter once that science should tincture theology,
whereupon, appeal being made to Mr. Goacher by that alarmed lady, he
ventured to remark, that with all respect to Miss Taggart, such
observations were perhaps liable to misconstruction in ordinary
society, where they could not be fully explained, and, although she
was doubtless right in a way, the statement needed qualification.
Miss Taggart was not very friendly with Mrs. Poulter and Mr.
Goacher, and despised Mrs. Mudge because she was low-bred. Miss
Everard Miss Taggart dreaded, and accused her of being vicious and
spiteful.
It was still early in December, but the lodgers in Russell House who
had nothing to do--that is to say all of them excepting Miss
Everard--were making plans for Christmas. They always thought a
long time beforehand of what was going to happen. On Tuesday
morning they began to anticipate Sunday, and when the Sunday
afternoon wore away slowly and drearily, they looked forward to the
excitement of omnibuses and butchers' carts on Monday. A little
more than a fortnight before Christmas, on Sunday at early dinner, a
leg of mutton was provided. Mrs. Poulter always sat at the head of
the table and carved. This was the position she occupied when Mr.
Goacher came, and she did not offer to resign it. Mrs. Mudge was
helped first, but it was towards the knuckle and she had no fat.
'Thank you, Mrs. Poulter, but will you please give me a piece of
fat?'
Mrs. Poulter, scowling, placed a minute portion of hard, half-burnt
skin on Mrs. Mudge's plate.
'Much obliged, Mrs. Poulter, but I want a piece of FAT--white fat--
just there,' pointing to it with her fork.
Mrs. Poulter, as we have said, was at enmity with Mrs. Mudge. Mrs.
Mudge also was Low Church; and Mrs. Poulter was High. She had just
returned from a High Church service at St. Paul's, and the demand
for an undue share of fat was particularly irritating.
'Really, Mrs. Mudge, you forget that there is hardly enough to go
round. For my part, though, I care nothing about it.'
'If I had thought you did, Mrs. Poulter, I am sure I should not have
dared to ask for it.'
'I believe,' said Miss Taggart, 'that the office of fat in diet is
to preserve heat.'
'If fat promotes heat,' said Miss Everard, 'and I have no doubt it
is so, considering Miss Taggart's physiological knowledge, my advice
is that we abstain from it.'
'It is a pity,' said Mr. Goacher, smiling, 'that animals will not
suit our requirements. But to be practical, Miss Toller might be
instructed to order legs of mutton with more fat. This reminds me
of beef, and beef reminds me of Christmas. It is now the second
Sunday in Advent, and there is a subject which you will remember we
had agreed to discuss this week.'
This important subject was a proposal by Mrs. Mudge that Miss Toller
should dine with them on Christmas Day.
'You, Mrs. Poulter,' said Mr. Goacher, 'are of opinion that we
should not invite her?'
'Certainly. I do not see how she is to send up the dinner properly
if she is to be our guest, and I imagine also she would not be
comfortable with us.'
Mrs. M. 'Why shouldn't she be comfortable? Of course, if we don't
try to make her so she won't be. There are ways to make people
comfortable and ways to make them uncomfortable. Miss Toller is
just as good as any of us.'
Miss T. 'She is not an educated woman, and I am sure she would
rather remain downstairs; our conversation would not interest her.'
Miss E. 'Pray, Miss Taggart, what is an educated woman?'
Miss T. 'What a question, Miss Everard! By an educated woman is
meant a woman who has been taught the usual curriculum of a lady in
cultivated circles.'
Miss E. 'What is the curriculum of a cultivated lady?'
Miss T. 'Really you are provoking; you understand perfectly as well
as I do.'
Miss E. 'I am still in the dark. What is the curriculum of a
cultivated lady?'
Mrs. P. 'I much doubt if Miss Toller is acquainted with the
ordinary facts of geography, even those which are familiar to common
seamen in the Navy. She probably could not tell us the situation of
the Straits of Panama.'
Mrs. Poulter had been reading something in the newspaper the day
before about the Panama Canal.
Miss E. 'Straits of Panama!' but she checked herself when she saw
that not a muscle moved on anybody's face. 'Now, my dear Mrs.
Poulter, I assure you I have friends who dine in the best society,
and I'll be bound they never heard of the Straits of Panama.'
Mrs. P. 'The society in which _I_ was accustomed to mix, Miss
Everard, would have excluded a person who was so grossly ignorant.'
Miss T. 'The possession of scientific truth, in addition to
conferring social advantages, adds so much to our happiness.'
Miss E. 'This also I am inclined to dispute. Do you really feel
happier, Mrs. Poulter, because you can tell us what continents are
divided by the Straits of Panama?'
Mrs. M. 'I'll lay a wager Miss Toller knows as much as we do, but
the things she knows aren't the things we know.'
Mr. G. 'We are digressing, I am afraid. I suggest we should have a
ballot. I will write "Yes" on five little pieces of paper, and "No"
on five, and after distribution we will fold them up, and each of us
shall drop one in the vase on the mantel-shelf.'
This was done, and there were three for the invitation and two
against it.
Mrs. Poulter and Mr. Goacher were left alone after the table was
cleared.
'Permit me to say, dear madam, that I entirely agreed with you.'
'You must have voted with Mrs. Mudge.'
'I did, but not from any sympathy with her views. I strive to keep
the peace. In an establishment like this concord is necessary.'
Mr. Goacher, when he dropped his paper in the vase, had not
forgotten that Mrs. Mudge had offered to provide the wine for the
dinner. If she had been defeated the offer might have been
withdrawn.
'I have fancied before now that I have seen in you a decided
preference for Mrs. Mudge.'
This was true. He had 'tried it on with her,' to use her own words,
but she was impregnable. 'It was no good with me,' she said to Miss
Everard; 'I saw what he was after.'
'My dear Mrs. Poulter, your supposition is preposterous--forgive me-
-you do not suppose that I am unable to recognise superiority in
birth, in manners, and in intellect. It was better, on this
particular occasion, to conciliate Mrs. Mudge. She is not worthy of
serious opposition. Miss Toller will not sit near you.'
Mrs. Poulter was pacified.
'I am glad to hear this explanation. I had hoped that one might be
forthcoming.'
'I am truly thankful I am worthy of hope, TRULY thankful.'
Mrs. Poulter dropped Palmer's Ecclesiastical History, which she had
begun to read every Sunday afternoon for three months. Mr. Goacher
picked it up, and was about to take Mrs. Poulter's hand, but Miss
Taggart entered and the conversation closed just when it was
becoming interesting.
In a day or two Mrs. Poulter informed Miss Toller that the ladies
and Mr. Goacher had been pleased to express a wish that she should
dine with them on Christmas Day. She consented with becoming
humility, as even Mrs. Poulter confessed, but with many secret
misgivings. She desired to strengthen herself with her lodgers on
whom her living depended, but Helen was more than a servant. She
was her friend, and she could not bear the thought of leaving her in
the kitchen. Helen, too, was passionate and jealous. Miss Toller
therefore ventured to ask Mrs. Poulter whether, as it was Christmas,
Helen also might be invited. Mrs. Poulter signified to Miss Toller
her extreme surprise at the suggestion.
'The line, Miss Toller, must be drawn somewhere. Helen will have
the gratuity usual at this season--she is a well-regulated person
and will see the impropriety of intrusion into a sphere for which
she is unfit.'
Miss Toller withdrew. She dared not venture to explain or apologise
to Helen, although delay would make matters worse. She went into
North Street and spent ten shillings which she could ill afford in
buying a locket for her.
Christmas Eve was black and bitter. After the lodgers had gone to
bed, Miss Toller and Helen sat by the kitchen fire.
'Oh, Miss, I wish we were at Barton Sluice.'
'What makes you wish it, now?'
'I hate this place and everybody in it, excepting you. I suppose
it's Christmas makes me think of the old farm.'
'I remember you said once that you thought you would like a town.'
'Ah, I said so then. I should love to see them meadows again. The
snow when it melts there doesn't go to dirty, filthy slush as it
does in Brighton. But it's the people here I can't bear. I could
fly at that Poulter and that Goacher at times, no matter if I was
had up for it.'
'You forget what a hard life you had with Mrs. Wootton at the
Hatch.'
'No, I don't forget. She had a rough tongue, but she was one of our
set. She got as good as she gave. She spoke her mind, and I spoke
mine, and there was an end to it. But this lot--they are so stuck-
up and stuck-round. I never saw such folk in our parts--they make
me feel as if I were the dirt under their feet.'
'Never mind them. I have more to put up with than you have. You
know all; you may be sure, if I could help it, I shouldn't be here.'
'I do know all. I shouldn't grieve if that stepmother of yours
drank herself to death. O Lord, when I see what you have to go
through I am ashamed of myself. But you were made one way and I
another. You dear, patient creature!'
'It's half-past eleven. It is time to go to bed.'
They went to their cold lean-to garrets under the slates.
Miss Toller lay awake for hours. This, then, was Christmas Eve, one
more Christmas Eve. She recollected another Christmas Eve twenty
years gone. She went out to a party, she and her father and mother
and sister; mother and sister now dead. Somebody walked home with
her that clear, frosty night. Strange! Miss Toller, Brighton
lodging-house keeper, always in black gown--no speck of colour even
on Sundays--whose life was spent before sinks and stoves, through
whose barred kitchen windows the sun never shone, had wandered in
the land of romance; in her heart also Juliet's flame had burned. A
succession of vivid pictures of her girlhood passed before her: of
the garden, of the farmyard and the cattle in it, of the river, of
the pollard willows sloping over it, of Barton Sluice covered with
snow--how still it was at that moment--the dog has been brought
inside because of the cold, and is asleep in the living-room--her
father, is he awake? the tall clock is ticking by the window, she
could hear its slow beats, and as she listened she fell asleep, but
was presently awakened by the bells proclaiming the birth in a
manger. She remembered that Mrs. Poulter had to be called at seven
that she might go to an early service. She hastily put on her
clothes and knocked at the door, but Mrs. Poulter decided that, as
it was freezing, it would not be safe to venture, and having ordered
a cup of tea in her bedroom at half-past eight, turned round and
fell asleep again.
It was a busy day. The lodgers, excepting Miss Everard, went to
church in the morning, but Miss Toller and Helen had their hands
full. In the afternoon Miss Toller was obliged to tell Helen the
unpleasant news.
'I don't want to go, but I must not offend them.'
'But you ARE going?'
'I can't get out of it.'
Helen did not speak another word. About half-past six Miss Toller
put on her best clothes and appeared in the dining-room. Helen
punctually served the dinner. A seat was allotted to Miss Toller at
the bottom of the table opposite Miss Everard and next to Mr.
Goacher, who faced Mrs. Poulter. Mrs. Mudge's wine was produced,
and Mr. Goacher graciously poured out a glass for Miss Toller.
'At this festive season, ma'am.'
A second glass was not offered, although Mrs. Mudge's supply was
liberal. Mr. Goacher did not stint himself.
'There are beautiful churches in Northamptonshire, I believe, Miss
Toller?' said the reverend gentleman after the third glass.
'Yes, very beautiful.'
'Ah! that is delightful. To whatever school in the Establishment we
belong, we cannot be insensible to the harmony between it and our
dear old ivy-clad towers and the ancient gravestones. I love old
country churches. I often wish my lot had been cast in a simple
rural parish.'
Miss E. 'Why do you not go?'
Mr. G. 'My unfortunate throat; and besides, I believe I am really
better fitted for an urban population.'
Miss E. 'In what way?'
Mr. G. 'Well, you see, Miss Everard, questions present themselves
to our hearers in towns which do not naturally occur to the rustic
mind--questions with which, if I may say so, I am perhaps fitted to
deal. The rustic mind needs nothing more than a simple presentation
of the Gospel.'
Miss E. 'What kind of questions?'
Mr. G. 'You must be aware that our friend Mrs. Poulter, for
instance, accustomed as she is to the mental stimulus of Southsea
and Brighton, takes an interest in topics unfamiliar to an honest
agriculturist who is immersed all the week in beeves and ploughs and
swine.'
Mr. Goacher had intended that Mrs. Poulter should hear that her name
was mentioned.
Mrs. P. 'What are you saying about me?'
Miss E. 'Nothing to your discredit. We were talking about town and
country parishes, and Mr. Goacher maintains that in a town parish a
clergyman of superior intellect is indispensable.'
Mrs. P. 'But what has that to do with me?'
Miss E. 'Oh, we merely brought you forward as an example. You have
moved in cultured society, and he is of opinion that he is better
fitted to preach to people like you than to farmers.'
Mrs. M. 'Culture, fiddle-de-dee! Afore I was married, I lived in
the country. Five-and-twenty years I lived in it. Don't tell me.
A farmer with five hundred acres of land, or even a cowman who has
to keep a dozen cows in order and look after his own garden, wants
more brains than any of your fine town-folk. Ah, and our old parson
had a good bit more than any one of these half-witted curates such
as you see here in Brighton playing their popish antics in coloured
clothes.'
Mrs. Poulter was very angry.
'Mrs. Mudge,' she said, speaking to nobody in particular, and
looking straight before her, 'has chosen to-day of all days on which
to insult, I will not call it MY faith, but the faith of the
Catholic Church.'
Mr. Goacher at once intervened with his oil-can.
'My leanings, Mrs. Poulter, have latterly at any rate been in your
direction--without excesses, of course; but both you and I admit
that the Church is ample enough to embrace the other great parties
so long as there is agreement in essentials. Unity, unity! Mrs.
Mudge's ardour, we must confess, proves her sincerity.'
Mr. Goacher took another glass of Mrs. Mudge's wine. After the
dessert of almonds and raisins, figs, apples, and oranges--also
supplied by Mrs. Mudge--Miss Toller rose and said she hoped she
might be excused, but Mr. Goacher pressed her to stay. He had
offered to entertain the company with a trifling humorous
composition of his own. She consented, and he recited a parody on
'To be or not to be,' descriptive of a young lady's perplexity at
having received an offer of marriage. When it was over Miss Toller
departed. It was now nine o'clock, and she found that the dinner
things had been washed up, and that Helen had gone to bed. The next
morning she went downstairs a little later than usual, but there was
no Helen. She ran up to her bedroom. It was empty; she had slept
there that night, but her box was packed and directed, and there was
a paper on it to say that the carrier would call for it. Miss
Toller was confounded. She would have rushed to the station, but
the first train had gone. She was roused by the milkman at the area
door, and hastened down to light the fire. At first she resolved to
excuse Helen's absence on the ground that it was Boxing Day, but she
would almost certainly not return, and after breakfast Miss Toller
went upstairs and told her lodgers that Helen had left. Mrs.
Poulter managed to acquaint Mr. Goacher and Miss Taggart that she
desired to speak to them when Mrs. Mudge and Miss Everard were out
of the way, and at midday there was a conference. Mrs. Poulter
declared that the time had now arrived for decisive action, so far
as she was concerned. Mrs. Mudge's behaviour could not be endured.
Her insolence in the matter of the newspaper (this will be explained
in a moment), and her contempt for what was sacred, made it
impossible without loss of self-respect to live with her. The
servant's sudden departure for reasons unknown, had, to use Mrs.
Poulter's words, 'put the coping-stone to the edifice.' The
newspaper grievance was this. The Morning Post was provided by Miss
Toller for her boarders. Mrs. Poulter was always the first to take
it, and her claim as senior resident was not challenged. One
morning, however, Mrs. Mudge, after fidgeting for a whole hour,
while Mrs. Poulter leisurely scanned every paragraph from the top of
the first page down to the bottom of the last, suggested that the
paper should be divided, as other people might wish to see it. Mrs.
Poulter dropped her eye-glass and handed Mrs. Mudge the outside
sheet, with the remark that if she would but have intimated politely
that she was in a hurry, she could have had it before.
'I'm in no hurry,' Mrs. Mudge replied, 'and you don't seem to be in
any. Thank you; this is not the bit I want; you needn't trouble; I
can order a paper myself.' The next day there was a Standard for
Mrs. Mudge, who with some malice immediately offered it to Mr.
Goacher. Mrs. Poulter glared at him, and after a little hesitation
he expressed his obligation but preferred to wait, as he had a
letter to write which must be dispatched immediately. Mrs. Poulter
never forgot Mrs. Mudge's spite, as she called it; the Standard
reminded her of it daily.
Mr. Goacher agreed with Mrs. Poulter that, for the reasons she gave,
it would be desirable to remove from Russell House. He also felt
that, as a clergyman, he would do wisely in leaving, for he could
not ascribe the disappearance of 'the domestic' to anything but a
consciousness of guilt.
Miss Taggart considered that Mrs. Mudge's conduct was due to
defective training. As to Helen, Miss Taggart added that 'you never
feel yourself secure against moral delinquency in the classes from
which servants are drawn. They have no basis.'
'I understand,' said Mrs. Poulter, 'that Helen is a Dissenter.'
Miss Taggart, as the reader has been told, was not particularly fond
of Mrs. Poulter and Mr. Goacher, but to stay with Mrs. Mudge and
Miss Everard was impossible. She had also once or twice received a
hint from Miss Toller that perhaps she had better suit herself
elsewhere, as the minute attention she demanded to her little needs,
of which there were many, was trying both to mistress and servant.
Miss Toller was promptly informed that three of her lodgers were
going at the end of the month.
'I hope, Mrs. Poulter, that you are not dissatisfied. I have no
doubt I shall soon be able to obtain assistance.'
Mrs. P. 'Our reasons, Miss Toller, had better not be communicated;
they are sufficient. Against you personally we have nothing to
object.'
Miss T. 'Have you searched the box which I understand has been
left?'
Miss Toller. 'Have you missed anything, ma'am?'
Miss T. 'Not at present. I might discover my loss when it was too
late.'
Mr. G. 'It would be better for the protection of all of us.'
Miss Toller. 'I couldn't do it for worlds; you'll pardon me for
saying so. I'd sooner you left me without paying me a farthing.
Helen may have her faults, but she is as honest as--.' Miss
Toller's voice trembled and she could not finish the sentence.
Mrs. P. 'Have you any reason to suspect any--any improper
relationship?'
Miss Toller. 'I do not quite understand you.'
Mr. G. 'Pardon me, Mrs. Poulter, it is my duty to relieve you of
that inquiry. Mrs. Poulter cannot be explicit. Do you surmise that
Helen is compelled to conceal?--you will comprehend me, I am sure.
I need not add anything more.'
The poor landlady, habitually crushed by the anticipation of
quarter-day into fear of contradiction or offence, flamed up with
sudden passion. 'Sir,' she cried, 'Helen is my friend, my dearest
friend. How dare you!--you a clergyman! I let you and Mrs. Poulter
know that she is as pure and good as you are--yes, and a thousand
times better than you are with your hateful insinuations. I shalt
be thankful to see the last of you!' and she flung herself out of
the room.
'What do you think of that?' said Mrs. Poulter. 'It is beyond
comment. We cannot remain another night.' Mr. Goacher and Miss
Taggart agreed, and Miss Taggart was commissioned at once to engage
rooms. When she had gone Mr. Goacher was compelled to explain that
he was in a difficulty.
'Of course, my dear Mrs. Poulter, after this open insult I must go
at once, but unhappily I am rather behind-hand in my payments to
Miss Toller. Remittances I expected have been delayed.'
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