CHAPTER 11 -  Mary Walker's Journal of 1859

July 1st

In just over a week, we will be going to the Mayor's party.  I am so nervous. Charles says that the done thing is to address him as Mr. Mayor or Your Worship. I must practice my curtsy.  I will wear my wedding dress, and have with that in mind bought some dark blue lace which will fill in the panels which I inserted to make it that little bit bigger.  I enjoy using the needle and have always felt that I had a good eye for fashion.  I have seen plates of dresses very similar with lace insets, so instead of feeling awkward I shall be proud to be in the first of fashion.

Mother writes that Father has had interest shown by someone who might want to buy the Inn. It is from a man called Robert Scraton whose has relatives in Pocklington, as she does.  He heard that the business might be up for sale and will come and view it and then if he is pleased, he will make an offer. I don't know where our family will move to, as they have lived in the Inn for all of my life. I wonder if they will go back to Escrick where Father came from and we still have relatives, or to Pocklington, although that seems too far away from all their acquaintances.

July 2nd

Charles was interested in reading a day or two ago about Charles Blondin, who apparently walked across a tightrope which was stretched across Niagara Falls. I do not know of this place, but reckon it was a very foolhardy thing to do.

July 3rd

Last evening Charles decided it was time for me to have a lesson in whist which is a great favourite of his.  He invited his friends the two Miss Mayburys to play against us, and help him teach me.  I have never played a game of cards before, and admit that I was loathe to show my ignorance in what I assume is quite an intellectual game. I had watched the men in the Inn playing cards, and they were so keen to win, and so intent on doing the right thing that it made it seem more like an intellectual exercise than a game. However, to please Charles I agreed.

I had not met these ladies before but I know how fond they are of Charles and know he has often played cards with them. They are unmarried ladies who live together and are in their early fourties I would speculate. They are both as thin as can be, and quite resemble each other, as sisters often do. They were quite shy but very pleasant company.

I must say that I did enjoy playing the cards, and can understand why one might get involved with whist. It is a real pleasure when you accomplish what you have set out to do, and an even greater pleasure when you can keep one's opponents from doing as they have intended. Charles said I have promise as a whist player and he will buy me a book of card games, so I can learn more of the strategies before we have another game. 

July 9th

Charles is busy reading a book called Self Help by Samuel  Smiles. He says this on how people do not want to take responsibility.

"When  typhus or cholera breaks out, they tell us that Nobody is to blame. That terrible Nobody! How much he has to answer for. More mischief is done by Nobody than by all the world besides. Nobody adulterates our food. Nobody poisons us with bad drink. Nobody leaves towns unŽdrained.  Nobody fills jails, penitentiaries, and convict stations. Nobody makes poachers, thieves, and drunkards. Nobody has a theory too - a dreadful theory. It is embodied in two words: laissez-faire - let alone. When people are poisoned with plaster of Paris mixed with flour, 'let alone" is the remedy . . . Let those who can, find out when they are cheated.: caveat emptor. When people live in foul dwellings, let them alone, let wretchedness do its work; do not interfere with death." (footnote)

He is so powerful in his writing. I compare his writing with the way Charles Dickens writes.
 

July 10th

Charles reports from his newspapers that there is a new King of both Norway and Sweden. He is called Charles XV in Sweden and Charles IV in Norway. His father was Oscar I, presumably of both places who died yesterday at the age of 58. My father is of course much older than that, and feeling his age. That is why he feels he must retire from the Inn as soon as he can, in order to enjoy the last years of his life more.   Charles loves history. I must admit that I often have to pretend an interest that I don't really feel.

July 11th

The party was a huge success and I met ever so many people. My new friends were there, and I was able to meet their husbands as well. I also met others of our neighbours with whom I had not yet made acquaintance.  One woman in particular I felt I should like. She is called Phoebe Tree and her husband James is a solicitor. She is about my age3 - and she said they were married in January and their baby is due in September (as is mine of course).  She looks very large. I wonder if she might be having twins.  She shocked me by asking when I was expecting the happy event. That is the first time anyone has alluded to my pregnancy which I felt I had done so well to conceal. She saw my embarrassment, and I sort of fumbled out, "I am not sure exactly."  She apologised and said she knew how difficult it was at the very beginning to know what to say or do regarding it. She assumed that my baby would be due in the new year and that I was only a month or so into the pregnancy. I didn't of course tell her the truth. My stays under my dress were so tight and I couldn't wait for the two hours to be up so I could come home again and put on my comfortable clothing.  I wonder what gave my condition away to her.  She has invited me to her house for tea one day next week.  I greatly look forward to that.

July 13th

Charles was very excited about the recent news.  He says that Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph met with Napolean III and both are tired and made poor by the long lasting war. So they signed a preliminary treaty, and hostilities have ceased. Lombardy is ceded to the French and the Austrians keep Venetia and the French promise to restore the Central Italian rulers expelled in the course of the way.  So the Austro-Sardinian Was is effectively closed.

July 21st

I went into town to do some shopping and then walked to Phoebe's house which is on New Street, very near the centre. She is just 19 as I am, and so we have such a lot in common. She too just moved here, and she told me all about how James proposed to her almost before she had properly met him. He had seen her at a friend's house, and he fell in love with her at first sight which would not be difficult as she is very beautiful with golden hair and sparkling green eyes and very pleasing in her ways. He is somewhat older than she is, and of course very successful. A very shy man, perhaps he felt unable to make a start with a normal sort of courtship.  She says they are very happy. She showed me around her house, which is large and elegant, and includes a nursery. She told me how they have booked a nurse to take care of the babies and also a wet nurse (she confirmed that the doctor said to expect two due to her size). She told me that she knew I was expecting not because of my size (although I wore a looser gown today and look much bigger, but somehow since she knows, it doesn't matter and is so nice to not have to keep up the pretence). She says I carry myself in a certain way and have a healthy glow to my skin. She says pregnancy is a very healthy time for women, and she enjoys trying to pick out which women are expecting from a group, and then confronts them, as she did me. She says she is nearly always right.  How bold she is.

She says that by mid August, she will be too large to go out walking in the streets. Her husband says it wouldn't be seemly. And of course, with twins there is always a risk that she might deliver early. So she made me promise that I would come to see her at least once each week so that she won't be too bored with life.  She wants me to be her eyes and her ears for what is going on in Worcester. She does make me laugh.

We had anticipated that I might be going back to York by now, as part of the pretence with Aunt Ann. However, I feel well, and now that I have admitted to being with child, although in a very new stage rather than an advanced one, it seems to me perfectly acceptable to stay in Worcester for the month of August.

I have written another poem.   I must admit to feeling homesick as I wrote this.

The Bride

She looked on the vine at her Father' door,
Like one that is leaving his native shore.
She hung o're the myrtle once called her own,
As it greenly waves by the threshold stone.

She turned and her mother's gaze brought back,
Each hue of her childhood's faded track.
Oh hush the song and let her tears,
Flow to the dreams of her early years.

Holy and pure are the drops that fall,
When the young bride goes from her Father's hall.
She goes unto love yet untried and new
She parts from love that hath ever been true.

Sweet be the song and the choral strain,
Till her heart's deep well-spring is clear again.
She's wept on her mother's faithful breast,
Like a babe that sobs itself to rest.

She wept yet laid her hand awhile
In his who awaited her dawning smile.
Her soul's affianced nor cherished less
For the gush of breathless tenderness.

She lifted her graceful head at last,
Then choking spoke of her heart steadfast,
And her lovely thoughts from their cell found way,
In the sudden glow of a jubilant day.

The last line is wrong, but I just can't think of the right words to make it make sense. My problem is that I don't want to keep going over old work, but to go on each time and write something new. 

3Phoebe and James Tree did live in Worcester at this time, and at the address given, but they were older than I have indicated, and had several older children. Phoebe did have a baby boy in 1860.