Friday 12 July [Northwich]
Very comfortable bed & slept all the while I was in it. We were not off till 5¾… In turning at the bottom of Market St into Deansgate (a sharp turning from a narrow street) a heavy coach had nearly run over us. Percy & the leaders came in contact. Poor Percy trembled & was a good deal frightened, but stood still & behaved beautifully while the coachman pulled up & waited a 2nd till we could get past. ‘Hallo, you driving a gig there on that side,’ said the coachman. We were on the left side & quite right. I called out I would go on the other side. ‘You go to Hell,’ said he, surlily. However, we got well off. At the 1st turnpike there was a caution pasted up to keep on the left side. The road was shockingly bad for 2 or 3 miles, full of great holes & pools of water… We got into Chester at 4.10. M— out… I was shockingly fidgetty. M— had left no. 4 Retrospective Review on her table… At last, M— came at 6, after I had waited 2 hours. I had got into a sad agitation & fidgettiness. Tried to make the best of the hours we had lost. M— had been sending the servants to inquire at the coach offices & watched the arrival of the last Manchester coach till after 6. Meant to have gone to bed very early but, after 9, M— asked me to go to see Madame Tussaud’s waxwork figures… We were there some time. Did not go upstairs till a little past 10 & were not in bed till 12. Sat up talking. Delighted to see each other, yet somehow I felt very low, but fought it off as well as I could.
Saturday 13 July [Llangollen]
Two kisses last night, one almost immediately after the other, before we went to sleep… Felt better, but was so shockingly low last night I cried bitterly but smothered it so that M— scarcely knew of it. At any rate, she took no notice, wisely enough… M— told me of the gentlemanliness & agreeableness of Mr Powis who, it seems, might interest M— more than duly had her heart no object but C—, with whom she has had no connection these four months. Not down to breakfast till 11… then, perhaps luckily for us, all in a bustle & M— off at 2¼. We were off in ½ hour.
Got here, the King’s Head, New Hotel, Llangollen, patron-ized by Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby, in 4½ hours… Beautiful drive from Chester to Wrexham. It was market day & the town seemed very busy. Beautiful drive, also, from Wrexham here but I was perhaps disappointed with the first couple of miles of the vale of Llangollen. The hills naked of wood & the white limestone quarries on our left certainly not picturesque. About 3 miles from Llangollen, when Castle Dinas Bran came in sight, we were satisfied of the beauties of the valley but the sun was setting on the castle & so dazzled our eyes we could scarce look that way. The inn, kept by Elizabeth Davies, is close to the bridge & washed by the river Dee. We are much taken with our hostess & with the place. Have had an excellent roast leg of mutton, & trout, & very fine port wine, with every possible attention… We sat down to dinner at 8½, having previously strolled thro’ the town to Lady Eleanor Butler’s & Miss Ponsonby’s place. There is a public road close to the house, thro’ the grounds, & along this we passed & repassed standing to look at the house, cottage, which is really very pretty. A great many of the people touched their hats to us on passing & we are much struck with their universal civility. A little [girl], seeing us apparently standing to consider our way, shewed us the road to Plâs Newyd (Lady Eleanor Butler’s & Miss Ponsonby’s), followed & answered our several questions very civilly. A little boy then came & we gave each of them all our halfpence, 2d. each.
After dinner (the people of the house took it at 10), wrote the following note, ‘To the Right Honourable Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby, Plâs Newyd. Mrs & Miss Lister take the liberty of presenting their compliments to Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby, & of asking permission to see their grounds at Plâs Newyd in the course of tomorrow morning. Miss Lister, at the suggestion of Mr Banks, had intended herself the honour of calling on her ladyship & Miss Ponsonby, & hopes she may be allowed to express her very great regret at hearing of her ladyship’s indisposition. King’s Head Hotel. Saturday evening. 13 July.’ The message returned was that we should see the grounds at 12 tomorrow. This will prevent our going to church, which begins at 11 & will not be over till after 1. The sevice is principally in Welsh except the lesson & sermon every 2nd Sunday & tomorrow is the English day. Lady Eleanor Butler has been couched. She ventured out too soon & caught cold. Her medical man (Mr Lloyd [or Ewyd] Jones of [indecipherable]) positively refuses her seeing anyone. Her cousin, Lady Mary Ponsonby, passed thro’ not long ago & did not see her.
Sunday 14 July [Corwen]
At 11¾, my aunt & I, accompanied by Boots to introduce us, walked to Plâs Newyd. The gardener in waiting. We talked to him a good deal. He seemed a good sort of intelligent man, much attached to his mistresses after having lived with them 30 years. He had walked about the country with them many miles when they were young. They were about 20 when they 1st came there & had now been there 43 years. They kept no horses but milked 6 cows. Said I, ‘Can they use the milk of 6 cows?’ ‘Oh, they never mind the milk. It is the cream.’ He said Lady Eleanor Butler was a good deal better. He remembered Mr Banks – has been there 4 or 5 times. I told him I had longed to see the place for the last dozen years, & we have expressed our great admiration of the place. In St Gothams (for I know not how else to spell it & which we most particularly admired) was a little bookcase of 30 or 40 little volumes, chiefly poetry, Spenser, Chaucer, Pope, Cowper, Homer, Shakespeare, etc. I quite agree with M— (vide her letter), the place ‘is a beautiful little bijou’, shewing excellent taste – much to the credit of the ladies who have done it entirely themselves. The gardener said, ‘they were always reading.’ The dairy is very pretty, close to the house, & particularly the pump, Gothic iron-work from Shrewsbury (Colebrookdale perhaps, originally). The well, 7 yds deep. It is an interesting place. My expectations were more than realized & it excited in me, for a variety of circumstances, a sort of peculiar interest tinged with melancholy. I could have mused for hours, dreampt dreams of happiness, conjured up many a vision of… hope. In our return we strolled thro’ the church yard. I shall copy the epitaph to Lady Eleanor Butler’s & Miss Ponsonby’s favourite old servant, Mrs Mary Clark, who died in 1809, when we go back… I wonder what success I shall have about Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby. Mrs Davies thought they would be pleased with my note, but I can’t write more now than that we have had delightful weather today & have travelled on most comfortably. I am more than ½ asleep & must make the best of my way to bed. ’Tis now 11½… I have heard the wind whistle here 2 or 3 times. What a dreary place it must be in winter!
Wednesday 17 July [Aber]
Went to see the castle about 10¼… Gave the man two shillings for shewing the castle. I think one would have done. The art of travelling requires an apprenticeship. Surely I shall improve in time. I have given many a sixpence that might have been spare. Always take in your hand what you mean to give before you go… Conway seems a poor town of 2 or 3 streets. We have been comfortable here. Good, clean beds, tho’ very small rooms. No window-curtains, no wash-stand. The pitcher & basin on the toilet table. Good breakfast & great attention. The people seem clean, tho’ the house looks dirtyish & second-rate because, perhaps, it is old & not easily made look clean or kept clean. But, on going out here, it is evidently not the first-rate house. The White Lion, a few doors a little lower down the street appears a neat, new building &, as we passed, a gentleman’s landau with his own post-boy & horses was at the door. We do not cut a figure in travelling equal to our expenses. My aunt is shabbily dressed & does not quite understand the thorough manners of a gentlewoman. For instance, taking the man’s arm so readily to Snowdon, etc. Indescribable! George, too, is a clown of a servant, too simple in the manners of the world. But we are not known. I wlll try to learn & improve in travelling matters &, by thought & observation, may turn all this to future advantage. But I feel very low. Somehow or other, seeing M— has been no comfort to me. When I asked her how long she thought it might be before we got together, & she seemed to fight off answering, on pressing fu
rther she said she felt some delicacy on this subject & did not like to talk openly of it even to ourselves, for, tho’ she did not love him, yet kindness & obligation made her feel a wish to avoid calculating the time or thinking of [it] except in general terms. I promised not to press her on the subject again. All this has made a great impression on me &, I know not how it is, I cannot shake it off. She never did so before but talked as coolly on so many, five or ten, for instance, years as I did. She seemed as fond of me as ever, yet all the night when I was almost convulsed with smothering my sobs, she took no notice, nor was affected at all apparently. The next morning her eyes filled at parting. I know not how it is but she, as it were, deceived me once & I feel that it is miserable to doubt. My aunt observed that she did not seem so fond of me as I was of her. I wish I did not think so much of all this but, alas, I cannot help it. Surely I shall be better by & by. I feel miserably low. I remember, too, what she said of Mr Powis, that if her heart was not engaged as it is to me, she might be in danger of very undesirable & uncomfortable feelings of interest towards him. I might have written her a few lines but feel as if I had not resolution. Were I fit for another world, how gladly would I go there…
Thursday 18 July [Bangor]
At 8¼, my aunt & I set off (a cunning little girl our guide, picked her up in the village) to see the cataract, Rhiader Maur… We had had breakfast. The milk in the house all sour. Desired the waiter to get some elsewhere. Nobody kept any cows or even goats & no milk to be had. Sent for the mistress (Mrs Lewis). She was very civil. Said it was a shame to live in the country & have no milk & she sent somewhere, borrowed a pint & I had, at last, coffee au lait as usual, & a good breakfast. In paying the bill they gave me, in change, 2 Irish tenpennys, but valued them at only 9d. I gave the waiter one of them & 2d. & the chamber [maid] the other (i.e. 9d.) not giving her anything for my bed because the sheets were certainly not clean, of which I took care to tell both her & her mistress… Left Aber at 11.10… Got out at the Castle Inn Bangor (at the back of the cathedral) at 6… It is the best inn in the place, but bad enough & dirty enough.
Friday 19 July [Caernarvon]
Beautiful drive from Bangor here… We have a sitting-room, 11 yds by 6, lighted by 3 large sashes. I should think it about 14ft high or more. Have had a good breakfast & are very comfortable… Dinner at 6¼. Salmon & a roasted leg of mutton, 7 or 8lbs & very good. It was, the waiter said, the common size. He mentioned Mr Roberts, the harper, who won the silver medal (a small silver harp) at the Eisteddfod in 1821 at Wrexham. We asked what we should give him. The waiter said people seldom gave him less than ½ crown, & if he made a charge, he would charge ½ crown an hour, for he was not a common harper but a sort of teacher & master bard among them. He came at 9 & played 1 hour 5 minutes in our room, for which we gave him 3/–. He seemed satisfied – played us several Welsh airs, Handel’s 2nd concerto, etc. He is certainly a fine performer with great execution & taste. He had no unnecessary quavering with his hands but held them steadily parallel with the strings… He went to the party in the next room & we still had the benefit of him.
Monday 22 July [Bala]
Just before leaving Dolgella, for 20 minutes walked round the town. Certainly a poor place according to English ideas. The cottages miserable, tho’ apparently of the better sort for North Wales. Mud floors. The smell of the peat fires is strong & disagreeable to those not accustomed to it. Square large masses of the dark mountain stone used for building, the unevenness of them in all but the better kind of houses, filled up with lesser fragments, give the buildings an unusually dark, rude appearance which, with broken windows, completes the shabby look of the cottages in N. Wales. But the fine blue roofing slate, very commonly used, is remarkably neat & seems oddly contrasted with the rest…
Bala. White Lion Inn… Got here at 5.50. The landlady is a very nice woman. Everything seems very clean & comfortable &, so far, I should certainly recommend the house. My aunt rather had a little mutton broth with a boiled steak or 2 in it. I had a small loin of mutton (very good), roasted, good peas & potatoes, & a very good bilberry tart. No wine, only cold water. Walked a little, into the town before dinner (sat down to table about 7) & also afterwards… Great deal of hay to get in North Wales & a good deal to cut. The grass very thin & short, not at all equal to one of our middling pastures. Little corn to be seen anywhere & then only thin, short oats & barley. I have somewhere seen a little rye but do not remember any wheat in North Wales. Very few cattle & those only the small black breed & occasionally a few brindled red. Sheep up & down the mountains, but not so small as I expected. I have only seen 1 goat, a little tame thing at Caernarvon. I had an idea of pretty grey Welsh ponys [sic] but have seen nothing of the sort. I would not have known the horses I have seen from English… Sat up hunting for a frill & adding up my accounts. Find one pound short. In taking out my purse at Tain y Bwlch, I let fall some sovereigns & surely did not pick them all up.
Tuesday 23 July [Llangollen]
A drop or 2 of rain just after setting off & a shower for about the 3rd mile from Llangollen. Heavy rain just after we got in. Mrs Davis received us at the door & came into our rooms to answer our inquiries after Lady Eleanor Butler. Mrs Davis was called up at one last night, & they thought her ladyship would have died. She was, however, rather better this morning. The physician does not seem to apprehend danger but Mrs Davis is alarmed & spoke of it in tears. Miss Ponsonby, too, is alarmed & ill herself, on this account. Pain in her side. ‘She is a lady,’ said Mrs Davis, ‘of very strong ideas; but this would grieve her, too.’ Mrs Davis had only known them 13 or 14 years, during which time she had lived at this house but she had always seen them ‘so attached, so amiable together’, no two people ever lived more happily. They like all the people about them, are beloved by all & do a great deal of good. Lady Eleanor has the remains of beauty. Miss Ponsonby was a very fine woman. Lady Eleanor Butler about 80. Miss Ponsonby 10 or 12 years younger. The damp this bad account cast upon my spirits I cannot describe. I am interested about these 2 ladies very much. There is a something in their story & in all I have heard about them here that, added to other circumstances, makes a deep impression. Sat musing on the sopha [sic], wotting what to do, inconsolate & moody, thinking of M—. Low about her. I cannot shake off the impression of what she said at Chester about delicacy in calculating C—’s life, Mr Powis, etc. I know not how it is, I am shockingly low altogether. Mrs Davis being going to inquire after Lady Eleanor Butler, my aunt & I walked with her to wait for her giving an answer to our inquiries. The physician there. Strolled about for 10 minutes &, he not being gone & it threatening to rain, returned & only just got in before a tremendously heavy shower. Then sat down & wrote the above of today. I feel better for this writing. In fact, come what may, writing my journals – thus, as it were, throwing my mind on paper – always does me good. Mrs Davis just returned. Brought a good account of her ladyship & a message of thanks for our inquiries from Miss Ponsonby, who will be glad to see me this evening to thank me in person. Shall [go] about 6½ or 7, just after dinner. This is more than I expected. I wonder how I work my way & what she will think of me. Mrs Davis wishes me to give all the comfort, all I can, & not to mention that I know of her having been called up last night. Dinner at 6. Before dinner, about two hours upstairs washing & cutting my toenails, putting clean things on. At 7, went to Plasnewydd & got back at 8. Just an hour away & surely the walking there & back did not take more than 20 minutes. Shewn into the room next the library, the breakfast room, waited a minute or 2, & then came Miss Ponsonby. A large woman so as to waddle in walking but, tho’, not taller than myself. In a blue, shortish-waisted cloth habit, the jacket unbuttoned shewing a plain plaited frilled habit shirt – a thick white cravat, rather loosely put on – hair powdered, parted, I think, down the middle in front, cut a moderate length all round & hanging straight, tolerably thick. The remains of a very fine face. Coarsish white cotton stockings. Ladies slipper shoes cut low down, the foot hanging a little over. Alto
gether a very odd figure. Yet she had no sooner entered into conversation than I forgot all this & my attention was wholly taken by her manners & conversation. The former, perfectly easy, peculiarly attentive & well, & bespeaking a person accustomed to a great deal of good society. Mild & gentle, certainly not masculine, & yet there was a je-ne-sais-quoi striking. Her conversation shewing a personal acquaintance with most of the literary characters of the day & their works. She seemed sanguine about Lady Eleanor’s recovery. Poor soul! My heart ached to think how small the chance. She told me her ladyship had undergone an operation 3 times – the sight of one eye restored – couching by absorption. I said I believed it was neither a painful nor dangerous operation. She seemed to think it both the one & the other. Mentioned the beauty of the place – the books I had noticed in the rustic library. She said Lady Eleanor read French, Spanish & Italian – had great knowledge of ancient manners & customs, understood the obsolete manners & phrases of Tasso remarkably well. Had written elucidatory notes on the 1st 2 (or 4, I think) books of Tasso, but had given away the only copy she ever had. Contrived to ask if they were classical. ‘No,’ said she. ‘Thank God from Latin & Greek I am free.’ Speaking of translations, she mentioned La Cerda’s, I think it was, as the best according to some [bishop?] friend of hers, of Virgil, & Cary’s as being most excellent of Tasso, literal & excellent for a beginner & which she should recommend to anyone wanting assistance. She somehow mentioned Lucretius, but it was ‘a bad book & she was afraid of reading it’. I asked why. He was a deistical writer. I mentioned Dr John Mason Hood’s [Good’s?] translation, adding that I believed he, Dr Good, was not a high church man. ‘No!’ She knew he was heterodox. I observed that she might think all the classics objectionable. Yes! They wanted pruning, but the Delphin Editions were very good. As people got older, she said, they were more particular. She was almost afraid of reading Cain, tho’ Lord Byron had been very good in sending them several of his works. I asked if she had read Don Juan. She was ashamed to say she had read the 1st canto. She said I had named Mr Bankes & asked if it was Mr Bankes Cleava. I thought not. Did not know him, but he was the most particular friend of a friend of mine. It was Mr Bankes, the great Grecian, said to be now the best in England since Mr Parsons’ death. She did not think he had ever been there, did not know, did not remember him. She asked if I would walk out. Shewed me the kitchen garden. Walked round the shrubbery with me. She said she owned to their having been 42 years there. They landed first in South Wales, but it did not answer the accounts they had heard of it. They then travelled in North Wales &, taken with the beauty of this place, took the cottage for 31 years – but it was a false lease & they had had a great deal of trouble & expense. It was only 4 years since they had bought the place. Dared say I had a much nicer place at home. Mentioned its situation, great age, long time in the family, etc. She wished to know where to find an account of it. Said it had been their humble endeavour to make the place as old as they could. Spoke like a woman of the world about my liking the place where I was born, etc. Said I was not born there. My father was a younger brother but that I had the expectation of succeeding my uncle. ‘Ah, yes,’ said she, ‘you will soon be the master & there will be an end of romance.’ ‘Never! Never!’ said I. I envied their place & the happiness they had had there. Asked if, dared say, they had never quarrelled. ‘No!’ They had never had a quarrel. Little differences of opinion sometimes. Life could not go on without it, but only about the planting of a tree, and, when they differed in opinion, they took care to let no one see it. At parting, shook hands with her and she gave me a rose. I said I should keep it for the sake of the place where it grew. She had before said she should be happy to introduce me some time to Lady Eleanor. I had given my aunt’s compliments & inquiries. Said she would have called with me but feared to intrude & was not quite well this evening. She, Miss Ponsonby, gave me a sprig of geranium for my aunt with her compliments & thanks for her inquiries. Lady Eleanor was asleep while I was there. Miss Ponsonby had been reading to her Adam Blair,6 the little book recommended to me by M— at Chester. I had told Miss Ponsonby I had first seen an account of them in La Belle Assemblée a dozen years ago, & had longed to see the place ever since. She said some people had been very impertinent, particularly Dr Mavor, who had in some way displeased (laughed at, or something) the old housekeeper to whose memory they had erected a monument in the church yard & it seems the ladies had a particular objection to Dr M—, but Miss Ponsonby appears to have lost her teeth & occasionally mumbles a little that, as a stranger, I did not always perhaps quite understand her. It seems 2 of the Cromptons & their brother (of Esholt) were lately sketching the place. The ladies sent them chairs – went out to speak to them (for they were retiring, fearing they had offended the ladies) – formed an acquaintance &, wanting to know something about the Derwentwater family, which the Cromptons could get to know, there has been a correspondence. Miss Ponsonby said she has not answered their last letter but meant to do it. Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby seem great pedigree people. Antiquarians, topography, etc. I came away much pleased with Miss Ponsonby & sincerely hoping Lady Eleanor will recover to enjoy a few more years in this world. I know not how it is, I felt low after coming away. A thousand moody reflections occurred, but again, writing has done me good… I mean to dry & keep the rose Miss Ponsonby gave me. ’Tis now 10¼. Sat talking to my aunt. Came upstairs at 11.10.
The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister Page 22