The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister

by Helena Whitbread

Saturday 27 June [Halifax]

  As we were coming up the new bank, at the top, met the whole party of Brownes & their friends, the Kellys… Miss Brown, in a white gown & green velvet spencer, looked Kallista. I stopped & kept her talking till my father & aunt, who [were] some several yards behind, came up. My aunt also admired her.

  Sunday 28 June [Halifax]

  The people generally remark, as I pass along, how much I am like a man. I think they did it more than usual this evening. At the top of Cunnery Lane, as I went, three men said, as usual, ‘That’s a man’ & one axed [sic] ‘Does your cock stand?’ I know not how it is but I feel low this evening. I don’t think quite so much of Miss Browne but still too much… I wish I could get her out of my head.

  Monday 29 June [Halifax]

  Sewing till twelve… This seems to have been a lost day. Visiting hereabouts gives me no after satisfaction & wasting my time in bed in a morning disturbs my happiness for the day. My only pleasure is in the thought of having employed myself profitably &, deprived of this, my spirits are unable to support themselves. I have felt low (tho’ I have not seemed so) all the day, nor am I less so now.

  Tuesday 30 June [Halifax]

  Finished my morning’s work a few minutes before 2. Made an extract or 2 from Lord Byron’s Childe Harold & the lyrics at the end of the book in readiness to take it back. Set off down the old bank a little before 4. Staid at the library above an hour looking out a couple of books with proper prints for the children to copy at Pye Nest. Returned up the new bank & walked up & down the little lane towards the west, very nearly an hour. What led me there was to have a view of Mr Brown’s house & to see if I should be able to distinguish Miss Brown walking in the garden. I could do it very well with a telescope & I thought of getting one. Found the wind so bracing & the situation so suited to reflection & so happy in point of prospect, that I almost made up my mind to walk there often. Mused upon the practicability of aiding my classical studies under the tuition of Dr Carey. I should like to be at least 6 months with him. I 1st thought of this some time ago – soon after I began to study his elements of Latin prosody.

  Thursday 2 July [Halifax]

  Marking linen & petticoats & all sorts of things with permanent ink & looking over my things in readiness to go to Langton.8

  Friday 3 July [Halifax]

  From 2 till 3 & afterwards from 4 till 6, putting a new blue paper lining into my travelling trunk.

  Sunday 5 July [Halifax]

  Had tea at 5 &, it being the 1st Sunday in the month, when Mr Knight generally lectures, my aunt went with me… Sat in my aunt’s seat in the north aisle. Don’t much like going with her on this account as I cannot see Miss Brown & feel as if I were quite out of the way. Got a distant glimpse of the girl as she went out. Felt inclined to be grave all the way home because I did not see more of her. Never uttered her name but thought of little else. I wish I was with Isabella & was happy with her. I will try to be so, if possible.

  Wednesday 22 July [Halifax]

  In going down the old bank, a littleish, tipsyish-looking, young man stopped me. Fancying I was going to strike him with my umbrella, he stepped back, saying, ‘If you do, I’ll drop you’. I quietly walked off, adding, ‘I should like to see you.’

  Thursday 23 July [Halifax]

  Had tea at 5 & all set off to walk to South-holme at 6½. Got back at 10¾. A very hot walk, hardly a breath of air… Just as we reached the opposite side of the hill to South-holme, a good band of clarinets & horns & a big drum (perhaps there were 10 or 15 or 20 tho’ not all were players) struck up & we staid to listen 5 or 6 minutes. Hemingway had just sold all his peas, except a few strikes that were to get at 16d. or 18d. per strike. He has already had 150 strikes. He planted 2½ days work.

  Sunday 26 July [Halifax]

  Had tea at 5 & went to the lecture… Walked out of church… Joined Miss Browne & her sister… Miss Browne said so much to me about calling & how happy her mother would be to see me that I told her at once, by way of excuse, I should have great pleasure in doing so, but that my uncle & aunt visited so little we never made any new acquaintances. She still said, ‘But you might call,’ & I heard her mutter something about, ‘I should not trouble your uncle much.’ Immediately begged she would not think of such a thing as troubling my uncle, but that he was elderly. ‘Oh,’ said she, ‘I can enter into your feeling.’ ‘’Tis well,’ thought I & added, ‘I have not said I will never call. Never is a long time.’ We then proceeded to chit-chat… Rejoiced she was better for warm bathing, complimented her on looking better. She had a lovely colour, was clad in robes of virgin white & looked altogether beautiful. But soon after I got home, beyond the pale of beauty’s fascination, the words, ‘I won’t trouble your uncle much,’ & the manner of them, occurred to me & gave rise to the question, ‘Is she good-tempered?’ It is not to be expected she should know much of the world. If she had, she would have said less about my calling, assured that I should call if I chose. Besides, she would recollect it is my place to offer the thing, not hers to ask it.

  Monday 27 July [Halifax]

  Letter from Isabella Norcliffe (dated Bruxelles, 21 July 1818)… Isabella desiring me to write immediately, I filled a sheet before dinner… My letter of today is certainly more affectionate than any I have written her of long… I have always loved her in spite of all & now that circumstances have so far alienated me from M—, Isabella’s fondness, fortune & connections, if her temper be grown rather more tractable, will make me happy. I almost begin to feel that we shall get together at last.

  Saturday 1 August [Halifax]

  Set off to Halifax… to Mrs Tom Rawson’s. Mrs Tom’s sister & cousin, Anne Holdsworth, are staying with her. The latter sings well &, after tea, gave us ‘Auld Robin Gray’, Moore’s ‘Wilt Thou Say Farewell, Love?’, & an Italian song. I sang, ‘Early Days’, blundered thro’ the 2nd of a duett [sic] at sight, & croaked ‘Fite Gustace’. Staid supper &, after a couple of glasses of excellent Madeira, sang Scott’s ‘Hail to the Chief’ to everyone’s satisfaction. Tom walked home with me & I got in just before it struck 11.

  Saturday 8 August [Halifax]

  Had dinner at 5 & my uncle & aunt & I set off immediately to drink tea at Haugh-end. Met there Mr & Mrs Page from Gosport… old Mr & Mrs Priestley, George & Dr Busfield. The latter sings and plays on the piano scientifically & accompanied himself in 2 songs, the latter ‘Listen, Listen to the Voice of Love’, & sang ‘Salley [sic] in our alley’ without music. I sang ‘Early Days’ & ‘Hail to the Chief Who in Triumph Advances’. Dr Busfield & I afterwards sang a chant together & tried one or two sacred things. I then sang ‘Pray Goody’ & made an attempt at the last words of Marmion, but could not manage both to sing & play at the same time. The evening passed very pleasantly & we did not get home till ½ past 10.

  Monday 10 August [Halifax]

  Got home 25 minutes before 9. Found my aunt at the harpsichord. I tweedled & sang near an hour… Having had no dinner, indeed nothing but bread & butter at Lightcliffe, & fancying myself peckish just before I got into bed, went down into the cellar & ate a little cold veal.

  Wednesday 12 August [Halifax]

  In the morning, till 12, writing out, from notes on a slate, my journal of Monday & yesterday, settling my accounts up to this day, & siding my drawers… In the evening, at 8½, my aunt & I went to the top of Bairstow to see the fireworks played off from the piece-hall.9 They not seeming to be beginning, we returned home, resolving to go again by & by. At 9.20, my aunt, & Marian & I set off. Finding we saw little or nothing from the top of Bairstow, we left the people (& there were a good many, tho’ several went before & with us) & dashed straight down the hill. My aunt, unable to keep her feet, slid down on her honourable part, Marian ditto, & we all laughed exceedingly. We hurried down the old bank & got to the hall door (with our shillings in our hands, determined to go into the servants’ gallery) just as the business was over & all the smart people were coming away. We instantly turned back & retraced our st
eps & got home at 20 minutes after 10, having only been an hour away altogether – my aunt a bit tired with the exertion & Marian red as a turkey cock with heat. Never said we had been further than the top of Bairstow. Had something hot & came up to bed at 11, when I wrote my journal of the evening.

  Saturday 15 August [Halifax]

  Called & sat ¾ hour at Cross-hills. Saw Mrs & the 3 oldest Miss Greenwoods. They introduced the subject of Miss Brown & we talked a good while in her praise, touching my admiring her, etc. They wanted me to call on her, but this I said I could not do, lamenting at the same time, that her father & mother’s vulgarity was such a disadvantage to her. I said we never visited new people & that, tho’ I would make an exception in Miss Brown’s favour, I could not expect or think of my uncle & aunt doing so. But if Miss Browne would consent to come to Shibden Hall without my going to Westfield, it would make a difference. I said the last time I saw her was the twenty-sixth of July, & talked altogether as if I admired her exceedingly.

  The eyes of the town’s society were now on the ripening friendship between Anne and Elizabeth Browne and a subtle process of baiting began, with the Greenwoods being the chief instigators. The Brownes, of course, were pleased to think that a leading Halifax family, or a member of that family, was going out of her way to cultivate their daughter and they probably hoped to be introduced to a more select social circle through their daughter’s friendship with Anne.

  Sunday 16 August [Halifax]

  Spoke to Miss Brown in going out [of church]. She was walking with her mother but the good woman slunk aside to her husband directly & left the fair one & myself together. Both the Greenwoods darted off to the Staveleys & I never did see two people left more tête-à-tête in my life. In this, I was obliged to offer my arm & we had our own chit-chat as far as Harrison Lane, when the Greenwoods & I turned homewards & they walked with me to the first cottages in the bank. I told them they ought not to have left us so pointedly together. Caroline said Mrs Staveley asked her if she was not jealous for fear all the friendship I had for her should be transferred to Miss Browne. She said no, she knew my heart was large enough to admit them all. I told them I would drink tea with them on Tuesday, so they may possibly ask the girl, for I think they seem to be in her interest. I am sure Kallista has no dislike to me & her not speaking last Sunday was politic bashfulness. She seems determined to let all the notice come first from me. Sensible girl. She knows how to play her part.

  Tuesday 18 August [Halifax]

  Called downstairs to try on a new bombazine waist my aunt is making for me… In the afternoon… went down the old bank… to Cross-hills to drink tea there… I should not have gone but for the hope of meeting Miss Brown & not seeing her at any of the windows as I passed Westfield deluded me into the idea that she was already set off. I afterwards bore my disappointment as well as I could but my nose began to bleed a lot about an hour after tea & Mrs Greenwood observed more than once she had never seen me look so dull. The Greenwoods… soon introduced the subject of Miss Brown… Talked as if Miss Brown was lessened in my estimation & as if I should gradually shirk the acquaintance. Miss Caroline, in spite of my arguments, called me fickle. All declared the lady a perfect pattern of propriety & retiring modesty &, tho’ they did not seem to believe me, I declared I was satisfied & she was higher in my esteem than ever, tho’ I said her society was out of my reach as I could not call. They talked of pride, etc. However, I gained my object for I learned she was greatly pleased & flattered, as well as papa & mama, by my attentions; that she had doubtless a growing regard for me; had reason, after my conduct, to call me a friend (which term I would not admit but substituted acquaintance) & to believe that I could not visit her on account of my uncle & aunt, but that I should certainly do it as soon as I could. They all wished me to spend some days at Cross-hills in the winter. I would not be hired to do it. Surely Caroline has a sneaking partiality for me. Got home as the kitchen clock struck 10. Had a slice or two of cold beef, not having had anything at Cross-hills but tea & bread & butter… Thinking of Miss Browne all the way home & while I was getting into bed.

  Sunday 23 August [Halifax]

  Awoke last night by the dogs’ barking & the cook told me 3 shabby-looking men were about the house. Got up, charged the pistol to be ready & had scarce got into bed when roused again by the dog. Followed the cook into her room (the Green Room), put my head out of the window &, seeing 2 men leaning against the wall below, declared I would blast their brains out if they did not immediately go about their business. Talked to them a minute or two & they almost provoked me to fire but the cook said these were not the same men she saw before. They said they had done, & meant to do, no harm & went away down the lane. Such is the fruit of a footpath so close to the house. Kept a lighted candle in my room but fell asleep a little after 2 & was no more disturbed.

  Sunday 24 August [Halifax]

  In the afternoon, mending my black silk legs to which I tack cotton socks & wear them under my boots.

  Wednesday 26 August [Halifax]

  Got to the old church this evening a few minutes before the lecture began. Managed this on purpose in the hope of seeing Miss Browne, who generally goes. Alas! I was doomed to disappointment &… I concluded she must have set off to Harrogate according to her mother’s desire. I either am, or fancy I am, in love with the girl. At least, I think more of her than ever & felt quite low & vapourish at not seeing her. I wonder if she ever thinks of me, or if she has the least spark of anything like regard for me?

  Friday 28 August [Halifax]

  Called & sat an hour with the Misses Caroline & Susan Greenwood… Miss Susan soon mentioned Miss Browne. They said she set off to Harrogate for a week… & then she & her sister are going to spend 5 weeks in the neighbourhood of Chesterfield & a month at Sheffield… The Greenwoods said she was likely to marry well at Sheffield. I said I should rejoice at it & declared I would call & see her. I said I would have done it long ago if I had twenty thousand a year, etc, of my own but that, as it was, what could I do? Speaking of her looks, I said I thought I had never seen her look as little like herself as when I met her there at tea & that surely she looked the best in a walking dress. We all admired the modesty of her manners. They particularly admired her conduct towards me, not at all pushing but always waiting for me to make the advances… They were astonished to think I should think so much of anyone. They fancied me quite taken up with Miss Norcliffe. I said that was quite a different thing.

  During Miss Browne’s week of absence at Harrogate, Anne turned her thoughts towards her other absent friends. She began to analyse her feelings for M—.

  Monday 31 August [Halifax]

  Letter from M—… Her letter breathes little of affection & indeed I do not estimate her feelings towards me very highly. She has not, she never had, the heart that Isabella has. I suppose she is more comfortable now than formerly with C—. She has her carriage & the luxuries of life & thinks proportionately less of me. Mrs Featherstone said, ‘Give her these things & these are all she wants.’ M—’s conduct to me has certainly been as strange a mixture of weakness, selfishness & worldly-mindedness. Consider her conduct on our first acquaintance; before her marriage; about her marriage; & ever since. An unfaithful friend to Isabella, a weak & wavering companion to me. On calm & mature reflection I neither much admire her nor much esteem her character. But she is specious, very specious, with much female vanity. I do not accuse her of premeditated deceit because perhaps she deceives herself as much as anyone else. She always seemed religious & talked piously. She believed herself, or seemed to believe herself, over head & ears in love, yet she sold her person to another for a carriage & a jointure, still keeping her intercourse with the one she loved & was seriously desirous of executing the prostituting of herself in disguise to any man who could make up the deficiencies & get her with child for the sake of fixing her importance by being the mother of an heir to Lawton. I know the scheme was originally my own proposing but she persisted in it till I utter
ly disclaimed it, shocked, as I said, at the serious idea of such a thing. Wherewith her morality? But I have acted very foolishly & wickedly. Oh that I may repent & turn me from my sin. Lord, forgive & help me.

  Saturday 5 September [Halifax]

  Went into the market-place & ordered the Elland basketmaker to make me a wicker box about ¾ yd by ⅜ and ¼ deep, to be covered with oil case & to carry my hats & light things in when I travel… Spoke to Furniss, the sadler [sic] about covering my wicker box with oil-cloth.

  Sunday 6 September [Halifax]

  Went to Pye-nest today for nothing in the world but to see Miss Browne… I wonder what she thinks of me & what she thought of me tonight. Surely female vanity cannot seriously be offended at my so particular attention? As soon as I got home I asked my aunt seriously about calling on the girl & declared I would joke no more about her, for that I really liked her in good earnest… My aunt looked a little surprised, but I had taken her by surprise & she behaved very well… Came upstairs. Ten minutes afterwards brought my aunt up with me. Talked about Miss Browne. Said how foolish it was, but I really liked her & expressed a serious wish to call. After half an hour’s talk, my aunt consented… As soon as she was gone, thought the matter seriously over. Lamented, prayed God to have mercy on me & to help me & resolved never more to mention Miss Browne & to avoid her entirely. For the last time I will allow myself to try to meet her tomorrow.

  Monday 7 September [Halifax]

  At 11¾ set off to Halifax… looking about me in every direction for Miss Browne… Spied a suspicious bonnet in Royston Road. She came a good yard or two out of her way to speak to me… She had been having a warm bath & dinner was ready but I asked her to walk & we went almost to Willowfield… I think I succeeded in making myself agreeable… Paid her beauty several compliments & told her she was the best-dressed girl in town or neighbourhood… She thanked me for my good opinion. I said I wondered I had told it to her so freely as surely it was so evident from my conduct that saying anything about it was quite unnecessary. She said she was afraid of me, tho’ she declared I suited myself to her as well as anyone with my talents could possibly do. I assured her she had often frightened me so as to make me quite nervous… brought about an agreement to meet at the library at 4 tomorrow afternoon… How changed since last night when I declared to seek after the girl only once more. This once has done the business. I like her & this morning’s walk & having told her to meet me tomorrow have certainly made me, shall I call it, happier, than I was before. At any rate, she does not shew any antipathy to my attentions.