A Brief Memoir with Portions of the Diary, Letters, and Other Remains Part 11

LODORE INN, 5th of 9th Month, 1851.

MY BELOVED M.:--

* * * I am glad to say that we still have very fine weather. At Keswick we were planning how we could see Frederick Myers, but that evening his widow was returning to the parsonage with her three fatherless children, and we could only look on the family vault in the lovely churchyard, the school-room, library, etc., and think of his antic.i.p.ations, now no doubt so happily realized, of the "'well done,' which it will be heaven to hear." A fine black storm hung over Skiddaw and Saddleback, and _such_ a rainbow spanned it. The western sky was full of the sunset, and the lake lay in lovely repose beneath. Of the clouds we really cannot say more than that they are often very beautiful, and sometimes dress up the mountains in grandeur not their own; but I have seen none that might not be Cornish clouds.

I am quite well. * * * For my sake be cheerful and happy.

Thy very loving sister,

E.S.

To her Father.

SCALE HILL HOTEL, 8th of 9th Month, 1851.

MY BELOVED FATHER:--

On Seventh-day, after breakfast at Lodore, we set off for a treat indeed--a canter up Borrowdale.

The morning splendid. Keswick Lake sparkling behind us. The crags of Borrowdale in the blue misty suns.h.i.+ne of morning overhung by not less beautiful shades.

We were quite glad to get to this sort of mountain scenery again, which we had so enjoyed at Grasmere, and leave smooth, bare, pyramidal Skiddaw and its "ancient" fellows behind. We at last ascended the steep zigzag which begins Sty Head Pa.s.s, confirming our resolution now and then by admiring the plodding industry of our mountain horses. It was indeed pleasant when the last gate was opened and we were safe within the wall of rough stones which headed the steep ascent, and we could wind more at leisure beside the foaming "beck" which runs out of Sty Head Tarn.

This desolate mountain lake was soon reached, and the n.o.ble dark Scawfell Pikes--the highest mountain in England, (3166 feet)--were its majestic background.

But that we had been gradually inured to such scenes, this would indeed have been the most impressive we have beheld. On we rode till deep shady Wastdale opened below us, and we found ourselves at the head of the Pa.s.s.

I have enjoyed this journey very much more than I expected, and the weather, on the whole, has been favorable.

I think of you all with double affection, which accept very warmly from

Thy affectionate daughter,

E.S.

To her Sister.

PATTERDALE, 11th of 9th Month, 1851.

MY BELOVED L.:--

* * * This delightful morning, Ulleswater, which we admired as much, if not more than any lake which we have seen, was of the brightest blue, and the valley behind as rich in loveliness, when we set off for Helvellyn.

The top is just five miles from the Inn. At last the pony was tied to a stake, and we wound up the Swirrel Edge. The rocks are almost perpendicular, and strangely s.h.i.+vered, and we looked down on the Red Tarn sparkling in the sun with, as it were, thousands of stars. At last we reached the top, a bare smooth summit, whence the wide misty landscape stretched all around us. Six lakes should have been visible; but we were obliged to be content with the whole stretch of Ulleswater, eight miles behind us, Ba.s.senthwaite to the north, and perhaps a bit of Keswick; but I would not have missed the scene for any reasonable consideration.

Scott, of course, stood on the top of the hill looking down on the Tarn, with Striding Edge on his right.

Alas! no "eagles" are ever "yelling" on the mountain, nor "brown mountain heather" is in sight--only common mountain gra.s.s.

On the top of Helvellyn she wrote the following lines in a sketch-book:--

How softly the winds of the mountains are saying, "No chamber of death is Helvellyn's dark brow;"

On the "rough rocky edge" are the fleecy flocks straying, And "Red Tarn" gleams bright with a thousand stars now.

The "huge nameless rook" has no gloom in its shadow; It catches the sun, it has found it a name; And the mountain gra.s.s covers like the turf of the meadow The arms of Helvellyn and Catchedecan.

There is not on earth a dark city's enclosure, Or vast mountain waste, where the traveller may roam, That peace may not soothe with its balmy composure, And love may not bless with the joy of a home!

To her sister.

ULVERSTON, 15th of 9th Month, 1851.

MY BELOVED M.:--

Thy very welcome letter yesterday met me soon, after returning from Swarthmore, where, of course, we had a very different a.s.sembly from yours.

It was very interesting, having been at Pardsey Crags last week, where the thousands had listened to George Fox's preaching, now to see Swarthmore and remember how things used to be when he "left the north fresh and green;" but G. Fox never saw the meeting-house.

It was built, I believe, after his death, though the inscription "_Ex dono G.F._" is over the porch. His black-oak chairs stand in the meeting-room, and his two bed-posts are at each side of the foot of the stairs. Swarthmore Hall is an ancient-looking, high farm-house, with stone window-frames, as we have seen it drawn. The Hall, where the meetings used to be held, looks very antique: black-oak panels remain in parts. Judge Fell's study is just inside, and his desk in the window, whence he could hear what pa.s.sed, though he never went to the meetings. The house is in sad repair. It seems strange to lay aside our daily companions, the map and the guide-book, and tarn our backs wholly on the mountain land, for the level and busy plains of England, with their "daily round and common task." But I know that the bright and beautiful mountain-scenes will often come again before the mental eye--"long-vanished" beauty that "refines and paints in brighter hues;" and I hope the pleasure will long be gratefully remembered.

The new home was reached on the 16th, from whence she writes,--

To her sister.

EDGBASTON, 20th of 9th Month, 1851.

MY BELOVED L.:--

* * * I do not like to end this eventful week without trying to send you a few lines. * * * Please tell mother, with my dear, dear love, how very acceptable her note was, and how much I hope that her kind good wishes may be realized, and how frequent a thought of pleasure it has been while we have been setting things in order, that before long I may enjoy to show our little territory to her and father,--to have her kind advice and opinion about my little household. * * * I yet feel as strongly as ever a daughter's love to the home of my childhood. When I think of you, I can fully share in the illusion thou spoke of, fancying that before long I shall be among you just as before. * * *

To her sister, P. Tregolles.

YEW-TREE ROAD, 9th Month, 1851.

* * * I could not have thought I should have felt so easy amongst so many, lately, such strangers; but every day I feel more strongly that on one nail "fastened in a sure place" many things may hang easily; and truly all treat us with such kindness, that I should be ungrateful not to value highly my connection for its own sake, whilst that on which it hangs grows firmer too. * * *

The remembrance of the cheerfulness with which Eliza Southall entered into the duties and cares of her new position in her adopted home has afforded cause for much grat.i.tude on the part of those dear relatives who welcomed her there. Newly made acquainted with some of them, she won their love and esteem by her unaffected simplicity and the geniality of her sympathies; but, whilst she showed true conjugal solicitude in her plans for domestic comfort and social enjoyment, it was evidently her first desire to have her heart and her treasure in heaven. It was designed in the ordering of Divine providence that a cloud should very soon overshadow the bright promises of her arrival; and the following account of the illness which so speedily terminated her life will, it is hoped, convey a correct impression of the peacefulness of its close. It is compiled from memoranda made very soon after her decease, but is of necessity imperfect; the attention of those who contributed from memory portions of her conversation being so much absorbed by their interest in the conflict between life and death, and by the overwhelming feelings of an hour of such moment to some of them. Whilst it is hoped that nothing inserted may appear to go beyond the simplicity of the truth, it may be added that it seems impossible to convey in words a full and faithful idea of the holy serenity of her last hours, which showed that the work of religion had not been in vain in her heart.

With the exception of a slight cold, which soon left her, she appeared to be in her usual health and spirits. But it was so for only two weeks, and on Third-day, the 30th of 9th Month, on returning from a visit at Woodfield, she complained of not feeling well. The next day she was more poorly, and medical advice was obtained. The following morning she suffered much pain, but the remedies used soon relieved her; and, though she was not able to leave her bed, the symptoms did not continue such as to excite much uneasiness. She enjoyed hearing another read, and not unfrequently Isaac Pennington's letters, or some other book, was in her own hand, and during occasional pain and uneasiness she would request to have some chapter in the Bible read, or a hymn of comfort. There was always an air of cheerfulness in her chamber, and the affectionate greeting with which each relative who visited her was welcomed was very precious. Few words pa.s.sed of a religious nature, or such as to induce the supposition that in four more days earth would be exchanged for heaven, except one short remark to her husband in the evening: "I have been thinking of the text, 'Then whose shall these things be which thou hast provided?' they may not be mine much longer." This was touching to his feelings, but was viewed as her wonted cautious manner of speaking of temporal things.

There was nothing further in her remarks which showed that she regarded her case as a critical one.

On Sixth and Seventh days she seemed decidedly better--entering into the varied interests around her. The evening of the latter day was particularly bright and cheering, when she conversed cheerfully with her husband and sister and spoke of her plans for the future. She also listened with pleasure to some pieces of poetry which were read, and amongst them appeared to derive comfort from the hymn beginning,--

"Nearer, my G.o.d, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!

E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song would be, Nearer, my G.o.d, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!"

Early on First-day morning she seemed rather depressed, and requested her sister to repeat the hymn, "'Tis a point I long to know," [Olney Hymns.] In the course of the morning she wrote a touching note to her beloved mother: it was her last effort of the kind:--

5th of 10th Month, 1851.

My beloved Mother:--

I have got permission to use a pencil in thanking thee for thy kind sweet lines which this morning's post brought me. I am thankful for being so remembered by my own precious mother now so far away. * * *

It is a new experience to me to lie here so long; but, now that I am much better, and what pain I have is transient and easy to be borne for the most part, it is my own fault if the days are profitless. I quite hope, by the time father comes, to be able to enjoy his visit--and so I could now; but then it could only be in this chamber, already become quite familiar. * * *

We are so thankful to hear of thy amendment to this hopeful stage! I trust nothing will prevent thy being able to leave home with father; and then how soon we shall rejoice to see thee here!

Thy ever loving, and trying to be submissive,