[-79-]
CHAPTER IX
WOMEN'S CLUBS
(1896)
THE women's club in England is
comparatively a new institution. Organizations of women have been either
political, like the famous Primrose League, or religious, under the domination
of the church. How strongly the latter influence still is, may be inferred from
the fact that a woman's conference held at Nottingham in the autumn of 1895 in
which education, the franchise, economics, philanthropic and kindred topics were
discussed and in which many of the delegates were non-conformists, was opened by
a sermon and the celebration of the communion.
Women's clubs in England in most respects are entirely
different from those of the United States. They are, in the first place, limited
as to numbers, and the fees are much larger; and in the second place, they are
modelled after the clubs for men which flourish in London and the large
provincial cities, as they do nowhere else in the world. The Alexandra and the
Victoria which are listed in Whittaker's almanac "for ladies of position
only," are especially of this nature. The Albemarle is "for ladies and
gentlemen," and "The University," for ladies, admits medical
women and others holding university diplomas.
The Victoria and Alexandra,
the two most exclusive women's clubs in London, have reading-rooms, drawing-
rooms, dining-rooms and bed chambers where members may be lodged for a
fortnight, if they desire, and it has been found a great convenience for those
living in the [-80-] country, when they come up to
town. In each the entrance fee is five guineas with an annual subscription of
five guineas and both have an extensive waiting list. Both are purely social.
Almost every English woman of fortune, and none but women of fortune can afford
to belong to either of these clubs, has her money settled upon herself prior to
her marriage, which makes it absolutely her own, beyond her husband's control,
so that the maintenance of an expensive club is a much simpler matter than it
would be in the United States where comparatively few women can boast of an
independent income. It need hardly be said that both clubs, notwithstanding
their social prestige, are regarded by the ultra conservative with disfavor, and
are considered subversive to domestic life.
The Pioneer club is probably the club most widely known
outside of London. It was founded by the late Mrs. Massingberd, a woman of good
birth and large fortune, and who gave liberally to its support. The Pioneer club
occupies a handsome house in Bruton street with the usual complement of reading,
drawing and dining- rooms and bed chambers. A large staff of servants was
formerly employed and the equipment throughout was excellent and complete. It
included in its membership many women of title and position, with others engaged
in the professions, admitting even government employes and stenographers, one of
its objects being to promote democracy, and to abolish class distinction, at
least upon its own common ground. To further this plan, names and titles were
eschewed and members were designated by number only - so that "99"
might be a duchess or a post-office clerk, as it happened.
The Pioneer club has been partly
educational and has supported various educational enterprises, classes having
been formed for study, as in American clubs, and debates, the reading of papers
followed by discussion, being a part [-81-] of the
weekly programme. These exercises are held in the evening instead of the
afternoon, and it must be acknowledged that they draw together the most
heterogeneous audience imaginable - an assemblage partly in full dress and
partly in street costume, many nationalities, French, German, American and even
Indian being represented.
On Wednesdays "At Homes" are given to which men are
invited, invitations that were frequently accepted out of curiosity-the
hospitality of the club having been occasionally abused. After the death of Mrs.
Massingberd, which occurred in the winter of 1896, there was a division of
opinion as to the future policy to be pursued by the club and the formation of a
second organization was agitated. It was decided, finally, that it should retain
its autonomy, under the old name and still occupy its old quarters.
It is doubtful, however, if it ever again exerts precisely
the same influence that it wielded under Mrs. Massingberd's regime, clubs being
much less of a novelty than they were when the Pioneer club was founded in 1878.
Furthermore, Mrs. Massingberd had a marked genius for leadership, inspiring
others with her own enthusiasm, and possessing that tact and knowledge of
character which enabled her to reconcile hostile factions and establish harmony
and unity where disaffection threatened.
The Writers' club which has its rooms
in Hastings House, Norfolk street Strand, is both social and professional. Both
characters are successfully combined, and it affords pleasant entertainment and
many comfortable privileges to a class of hard working women who have little
time for social life, enabling them to help each other in the most direct and
practical manner. Like the Women Journalists' club, all writers, whether for the
press or the magazine; with those who devote themselves to au-[-82-]thorship
exclusively, are eligible to membership. Its chief purpose is, apparently, to
assist women writers upon the press for whom, strangely enough, there is no such
liberal provision in the offices of the great London newspapers, as has been
made in American newspaper offices.
As the Writers' club is just off the Strand, in the very
center of the newspaper and publishing district, the women writers find the
pleasant rooms, furnished with tables and writing materials, a great
convenience. Here "copy" can be prepared and left at the newspaper
office as the reporter or writer is on her way home. The entire suite is upon
the ground floor, and includes a writing room, dining room, a kitchen, a cloak
room and two reception rooms. A plain dinner, tea and supper are furnished at a
very moderate cost and while the Writers' club has grown steadily in membership,
gradually extending its resources, it has become more than self-supporting and
has a comfortable balance in the bank. The rooms are plainly but well furnished.
Over the mantel in the reception rooms are bulletin boards upon which are posted
not only announcements of meetings and applications for membership, but
applications for engagements from women readers and singers.
The honorary President of the Writers' club is the Princess
Christian, and among a lengthy list of Vice- Presidents are such well known
names as Mine. Adam, Mrs. Alexander, the novelist, Mrs. G. Linnaeus Banks, Mrs.
the Hon. Mrs. H. W. Chetwynd, Lady Jeune, Edna Lyall, Frances Hodgson Burnett,
Miss Rosa Nouchette Carey, the Countess of Munster, Mrs. Richmond Ritchie, Lady
Seton, and the Duchess of Sutherland. The executive committee, as in most clubs,
is empowered to transact all business, and fill any vacancies that may occur
during the current year after the annual election of officers. Its chairman in
1887 was Mrs. Humphrey Ward, who, al-[-83-]though
she attended the club irregularly, is said to be much interested in the work
being done. The committee consists of twelve members among whom are Lady Jeune
who is a prolific writer for London periodicals and newspapers; Miss Margaret
Bateson, the associate editor of the Queen, one of the most brilliant and
scholarly young journalists in England; Miss Ada Heather-Biggs and Miss
Strutt-Cavelle.
As in all such clubs, a few of the members are merely
dilettanti, but many earn their living by writing and there are, consequently,
no literary exercises in the list of its club recreations. On Friday the weekly
house tea is given to which members have the privilege of inviting a guest, upon
payment of a small fee. If the guest does not accompany her hostess she presents
her card at the door, it is sent in and the member joins her in the writing room
and escorts her to the reception rooms which are always well filled. A table is
spread with the whitest damask covered with flowers and glittering with silver
at which tea, bread and butter and cakes are served. The tea is strong - as it
is everywhere in England - and it adds an appreciable zest to the conversation
which never seems to languish. Both men and women attend these pleasant and
informal gatherings and one can generally count upon meeting there the author of
the last new book,-the man or woman most talked about at that particular hour;
the artists seem to hold aloof except on more formal occasions, having little
coteries of their own which they apparently prefer.
The Writers' club has been in existence only a few years but
it has a membership of over four hundred. This has so taxed its accommodations
that it has been decided to limit its future growth in some manner, which it was
thought the executive committee would be able to devise.
The Women Journalists' club
is another comparatively [-84-] new organization
with rooms in Henrietta street. Its President is Mrs. Craigie (John Oliver
Hobbes) and it provides a course of lectures during the winter, and gives what
is known as a midsummer party to which all literary, artistic and social London
is bidden. In June, 1896, this great function was held at Stafford House - the
town residence of the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, and there was such a
demand for invitations that the committee was forced to announce through the
columns of the morning newspapers that no more cards would be issued, those
which had been sent having been inexorably marked "strictly
non-transferable." The invitations included every artist, man or woman,
every journalist, author, musician and actor of note in London, with scientists,
members of Parliament, cabinet ministers, diplomats and those who lived simply
to enliven and adorn the social world. Long before ten o'clock there was a line
of carriages stretched down Pall Mall, each awaiting its turn at the entrance in
the shadow of the great porte cochère around which was stationed an
array of footmen in black and gold livery. The guests were received by the
President, Mrs. Craigie, a woman of striking beauty and dignity, who was
assisted by Mrs. Johnson, the editor of The Gentlewoman, and other women
journalists.
A remarkably varied programme had been arranged, literally
suited to all tastes, and the names of the artists who had contributed their
services included Mine. Albani and Cissy Loftus, Arthur Roberts, the comedian
and Johannes Wolff the violinist, Alice Gomez, the contralto of the St. James
concerts, and Letty Lind of the Empire Music Hall. Mme. Albani did not appear,
but the beautiful and fascinating Cissy Loftus did not disappoint the company,
and she gave an extremely clever imitation of a popular actress whose mannerisms
were then the delight [-85-] of the Music Hall
artists, and a source of pecuniary profit as well.
The lectures of the club are held in the rooms of the Royal
Society, Adelphi and I had the pleasure of hearing on one occasion Prof.
Herkomer, and, somewhat later, T.P. O'Connor, M. P., who gave an address upon
"Journalism."
The lecture of Prof. Herkomer was largely autobiographical,
and -the speaker made a special request that a chairman and the vote of thanks,
which formally close such an address, be dispensed with. Each member had been
permitted to invite a guest and a large audience was present. Professor Herkomer
came upon the platform, a man of slender figure, of somewhat nervous manner, the
pallor of his delicate and regular features intensified by his dark hair; he
looked about a moment, glanced down at a long table covered with pens, ink and
blotting-paper and said that the lecture would be delivered with the explicit
understanding that it was not to be reported for the daily press. He did not
proceed until the writing materials were taken away, as if he feared that some
one of the numerous lady journalists present might yield to an irresistible
impulse, rush to the table and begin taking notes on the spot, before she could
be prevented, taken into custody and led away. With the removal of the pens and
ink no such coup de main was possible. The lecture was one that was
delivered several times during the course of that winter, which was a sufficient
reason for the request that no report be made for publication. It was
reminiscent, intensely interesting, without egotism or anything that approached
self-laudation. The great painter frankly related how the sale of his first
picture had been compassed: sitting in an omnibus, comparatively unknown in the
great world of London, he overheard two gentlemen discussing pictures - a
prospective purchase, among other [-86-] topics. He
plucked up courage, informed them that he was a painter and had just
finished a picture which he would like very much to have them see. They
expressed their willingness to visit his studio, the address was given, they
came and one of them actually bought the picture. When he painted his
"Chelsea Pensioners" his friends had warned him against attempting a
canvas of such great size. He had his own views; the picture was painted as he
had planned it, and then sent, in fear and trembling, to the hanging committee
of the Royal Academy. He was watching at night by the bedside of a friend who
was dangerously ill when the telegram came informing him that the picture had
been accepted and he said: "I burst into tears and fell upon my knees in
gratitude to God."
Mr. T. P. O'Connor's paper was also brilliant and
interesting, as might have been expected, but rather badly read-with a falling
inflection at the end of every sentence, which made it difficult to follow him.
The functions of the critic were sharply discussed afterwards, one grievance
calling forth especial protest-the custom of employing one and the same critic
upon half a dozen different journals; where the criticism was adverse it
appeared as if ,all these journals were of the same mind; whereas, it was merely
the opinion, widely disseminated, of one and the same individual. The
corresponding advantage of so wide a circulation of favorable opinion was not
mentioned, although, certainly, something might have been said on that side of
the question, also.
Some time after this I was invited twice to the Playgoers'
club - on one occasion when the subject for the evening was: "Can Women
Write Plays?"- the paper having been written by Mrs. Oscar Beringer; Mr.
Beere, the dramatic critic, Mr. Rose, who dramatized "The Prisoner of Zenda,"
and Lady Bancroft, the actress-manager, whose husband had been recently knighted
- taking part [-87-] in the discussion. At a
subsequent meeting the address was delivered by Zangwill, upon the "Modern
Drama," a number of well known managers speaking upon the subject.
Both men and women are admitted to the Playgoers' club, which
is comparatively a young organization, but quite enterprising and vigorous and
with a very large membership. It has strong affiliation with the literary
profession.
It is the custom to invite some distinguished author to
preside at the meetings which are held on Sunday evening in the banqueting hall
of St. James restaurant in Piccadilly - Sunday being the one day of leisure upon
which theatrical people can reckon, as the theatres are still rigidly closed on
Sunday throughout Great Britain. The audience is always varied and interesting,
musicians, journalists, artists, critics and of course the actors themselves
assembling in force. The meetings are conducted on the plan of "a
smoker," and most of the men present smoked cigars and cigarettes; and a
few of the more daring did not remove their hats. The air was blue and thick,
and the windows tightly closed so that breathing with anything like ease was a
pretty severe test of the capacity of one s lungs. Mrs. Beringer, who had been
asked to give some account of women dramatists, was herself a very successful
playwright. She had tried her hand at several short plays and "A Bit of Old
Chelsea, her latest production, had been running at the Royalty Theatre for some
months. While there were certain speeches and situations that any but a London
audience would have pronounced slightly broad, the construction was good, and
the little drama abounded in genuine humor and pathos.
Mrs. Beringer appeared upon the platform promptly at eight
o'clock, a tall, graceful woman, with a face of a somewhat oriental type, dark
eyes, dark hair and a slightly [-88-] aquiline
nose. She read extremely well, beginning with a somewhat superfluous apology for
her incapacity as a critic, the confession of a fault that was not apparent to
her audience. She reviewed the dramatic work of women in the past, confining
herself chiefly to the misdemeanors of Mrs. Aphra Behn, but passing over Joanna
Baillie of whom even the caustic Byron made an exception when he wrote:
"Women cannot write tragedy, except Joanna Baillie." Miss Mitford was
also forgotten whose "Rienzi" was produced in 1828 with the "Foscari"
and "Charles I" for which she received very large sums. It was argued
that men and women possessed precisely the same emotional and intellectual
qualities that fitted them for play-writing. She did not claim that women had
the intellectual force of men, but she believed that they had keen and more
delicate perceptive powers, which were essential to character delineation, and
which she considered the chief requisite of the dramatist. A novelist had many
aids of which the playwright could not avail himself; description, incident, the
direct effect of his own personality, none of which could be utilized in the
construction of a play when the plot must be developed by the character and made
apparent by the denouement. All manifestations of art were defined as the
outcome of experience. It was impossible to depict life without having lived,
and in the past women had been hampered by restrictions-the narrowness of the
sphere in which they were born. She did not think that any just estimate of
women's genius could be made until they had known something of the freedom and
training which had been enjoyed by men from the beginning of time; they were
simply upon probation. She had great hope for the future; women were displaying
ability in so many directions, as Opportunity was given them, that she had no
doubt whatever as to their ultimate success when they had been further schooled
by experience. She gave [-89-] a sly thrust at
certain violations of the code on the part of shrewd aspirants to fame in the
province of dramatic authorship. One of these ladies having finished her play
invited a well known critic to come and hear it read. The tea table was spread,
decorated with lights and flowers and the author herself appeared in a most
becoming gown. She read her comedy, and as the critic took his leave asked him
tremblingly what he thought of it. By way of reply he exclaimed with emphasis: "You
darling!" But he had nothing to say about the play! Mrs. Beringer
confessed naively that she had never had such an encounter herself, - a
confession that was greeted with much laughter and applause. Her conclusion,
after a careful summing up of all the arguments that she had presented, was that
dramatic work of the best class in the future would be written by women.
The gentleman who opened the discussion began his speech with
what might be called a general onslaught. He spoke indistinctly, turning his
face aside so that it was a little difficult to hear perfectly all that he said,
but in these recurrent intervals of incoherency it could not be supposed that he
had expressed any opinion that was especially tolerant or commendatory; his
general tone of disapproval precluded any such hope. Women, he declared, had
never written anything of any consequence for the stage; Mrs. Aphra Behn had
excelled even her profligate age in outspoken indecency. He named all the recent
dramatic authors among women, in not one of whom was any merit to be found. Lady
C- had written a play which was a failure, like others which he mentioned. Miss
C. G- had produced what was called a play, in which a most chaste and charming
actress had been subjected to the indignity of appearing in breeches. Somebody
had written something that had run a few nights only because of a particularly
nasty inuendo in the second act - very few peo-[-90-]ple
came in time for the first. In short, he declared authoritatively, that the
influence of women playwrights had been distinctly to lower the moral tone of
the stage. Having pronounced this anathema the speaker sat down amid very feeble
and dispirited applause. The reader of the paper preserved her serenity under
the scoring, in a way that proved conclusively that women, as well as men, can
bear with composure criticism that verges dangerously upon personal abuse.
Mr. Rose, who responded to the dramatic mysogynist, took a decidedly optimistic
view, and thought that there was no reason why women should not write plays, and
great plays. As Mrs. Beringer had said, barriers had been thrown in their way,
and all the ordinary conditions had been opposed to them. He corroborated her
opinion: to write one must first live; the woman dramatist must know men and
women and the world in which they actually dwelt. Even by men, with all their
superior advantages, not more than three or four great plays had been produced
in a century; and in all the ages there had been but one Shakespeare. Women had
distinguished themselves in recent years in many fields, doing difficult work as
well as it had been done by men, where an opportunity had been given them. He
did not think that the field of play-writing was exceptional, and, because a
woman had not yet written a great play was no reason why she would not write one
in the future; she had the requisite genius, feeling and intellect.
Lady Bancroft was called upon and after much urging spoke
rather reluctantly, explaining that she had never attended a meeting of the
Playgoers' club before, and certainly had not expected to make a speech. In her
long experience as manager of a London theatre, she had no reason to be much
impressed with what she had seen of plays written by women and which had been
submitted to her for approval. She gave a very humorous account of one
[-91-] which the author had asked permission to read to her, proffering
the modest opinion that she, the author, believed it to be the greatest play
that had ever been produced and that the one situation, which was the dramatic
and rhetorical climax "had never been presented on the stage." The
generous lady-manager agreed to read the play, insisting upon reading it
herself, by way of shortening the ordeal, and she was to go through it at her
leisure. The scene that was to astonish the London public was arranged in this
wise: A lady who had a husband had also a lover. While she was holding a secret
conference with the lover she fainted, the husband having appeared unexpectedly
upon the scene. Reviving suddenly, roused no doubt by an acute consciousness of
the great rudeness of the omission, she exclaimed: "O, I beg your pardon: I
have neglected to introduce you !" The play was a tragedy, not a comedy.
At the end of the speech-making Mrs. Beringer recapitulated
the points brought up in the discussion, very gracefully acknowledging the
support that her position had received, and replying with like grace and tact to
those who had been rather unduly severe in their opposition.
Zangwill's paper which I heard several weeks later, was a
decidedly caustic arraignment of modern drama. He was of very distinguished
appearance, tall, slight, with a decided Semitic cast of countenance, though the
features were much less heavy than appears in his portraits. He spoke with much
deliberation, giving his audience ample time to catch his points which, for the
most part, were strongly put and invariably well taken. He disapproved without
reservation the custom of producing a play which was repeated many nights in
succession; he thought the practice fatal to dramatic composition, the authors
being crowded out by this usurpation, while the actors them-[-92-]selves,
once letter-perfect, grew indolent and indifferent. They lost the great
incentive of continued and renewed effort. He contrasted this demoralizing
English and American custom to the more rigid requirements of the French and
German stage, where every artist was obliged to have a varied repertoire of
great plays, which were presented at short intervals, and upon very brief
notice. He believed that this state of readiness for whatever might be demanded
of them, accounted for the finished and artistic work of both French and German
actors. The London stage at that time was reviewed not much to its credit,
several popular melodramas were mercilessly condemned and at least one
accomplished actor-manager severely taken to task for surrendering to the
demands of British Philistinism. As an evidence of further decadence, the
greatest crime with which the modern playwright could be charged was that of
being "literary." It was impossible to read a modern play; yet more
delightful reading than the old English plays could not be found. He thought
that actors should cultivate literary taste; that they should be familiar, not
only with the classics, but with all European literature, which they should be
able to read in the original. He gave a very amusing incident in which he,
himself, was the chief actor; he had been in Paris and had taken breakfast with
a very distinguished English actor-manager. At this breakfast it was arranged
that he should write a play for him. It was thoroughly discussed and, having
virtually reached an agreement, they parted. When he returned to London while
passing the theatre one of the associate lessees rushed out - a man of my own
race, Zangwill explained, and expressed his great gratification that he was to
write the play.
"But," he added, cautioning him, "remember,
Zangwill, no d-d literature!"
Several actor-managers present defended their fellow-[-93-]managers
with much wit and spirit; among them a gentleman who had vainly endeavored to
raise the public taste to the level of Ibsen and had made a disastrous financial
failure of it.
In all the talk, while the women were not quite so fluent and
numerous as the men, those who did speak acquitted themselves with credit,
coming to the point with great directness, and showing themselves liberally
endowed with good sense and humor. Miss Kate Roorke thought well of dramatic
schools, such as were common in the United States, as a means of educating young
men and women in the art of acting, it being understood that she herself was
personally interested in such an institution. She defended her position by
calling attention to the great degree of excellence that had been attained by
young men and women on the American stage - especially young women, many of whom
had achieved much success in London, where they were then greatly esteemed at
all the leading theatres. This theory was warmly disputed, the majority deciding
that the stage itself, where all great actors and actresses had been trained
from childhood, was the only school in which real dramatic art could ever be
acquired. There was no substitute for the discipline of failure or the stimulus
of success, which were possible only on the real stage, behind the foot-lights
where the verdict of the audience-the arbiter of the actor's destiny - was
immediately rendered.
The Sandringham club, at 13 Old
Bond street, is one of the newer organizations, and has convenient and
comfortable rooms within walking distance of the galleries and the principal
theatres. Once a week during the season it gives pleasant "At Homes"
with music and readings as special attractions. It has made a departure from the
ordinary rules in admitting to its privileges, upon payment of the required fee,
any American woman who may [-94-] be sojourning in
London, who brings credentials from American clubs to which she belongs.
The Sesame club admits both men and
women to membership. Its rooms are in Westminster and it is especially
interested in educational questions. It is distinctly liberal, with, perhaps, a
touch of radicalism. Men and women, who compose both the officers and the
committees, work together amicably and harmoniously. The Sesame club is in close
proximity to the Alexandra club and the Primrose League. I received an
invitation to be present at a meeting which was to be addressed by Mrs. Henry
Norman, who is better known in the United States as Menie Muriel Dowie, the
author of "A Girl in the Karpathians." Mrs. Norman's subject was very
unlike her book, though it was characterized by the same wit and originality.
She was a tall, slender and graceful woman, far more comely than the profile
portrait that is familiar to the American reader. She has a keen sense of humor,
and the entire address was brilliant and clever - a plea for simpler living. She
advocated removal to the country, or to a suburb, where permanent residence in
the country was impossible. She thought that it was much to be deplored that
there were so many to whom even this compromise was necessary, but, since it was
unavoidable, this class might be consoled with the reflection that half a loaf
was better than no bread. The speaker had evidently a warm regard for Americans
and an admiration for the American way of living. She eulogized that fascinating
if somewhat misleading work: "Ten Acres Enough" in which it was
carefully and accurately shown what profit might be derived from the cultivation
of a small tract of land upon scientific principles. She rather ruefully
admitted that another gentleman of urban prejudices and literary proclivities
had also undertaken this sort of scientific agriculture and had set forth his
experiences in a work entitled "Two Acres [-95-] too
Much." Nevertheless, she held firmly to the belief that the townsman might
carry on a legitimate pursuit in the city and successfully unite with it the
diversion of the gentleman farmer. She cited the case of a musical critic on one
of the New York newspapers, a devoted disciple of Wagner, who, whatever his love
for agriculture, was not willing to forego the opera. He combined both callings
easily and profitably, did his work as an accomplished critic and enjoyed in
their season the fruits of his garden and orchard - delicious peaches and melons
and tomatoes of a freshness unknown to the green grocer. She commented forcibly
on the market supplies furnished the residents of London-wilted cabbages, faded
cauliflower, vegetable marrow long past its prime; neither appeals nor
persuasion could move the green grocer to mend his ways, which were altogether
bad. While excellent things were really grown-crisp cresses' and lettuce,
potatoes worthy the name, they were not to be obtained by the London
householder, except by visiting Covent Garden at three o'clock in the morning.
She advocated a system of market-houses which she described, similar to those in
many American cities, to which the housekeeper might be- take herself easily and
conveniently and select her supplies. In connection with the market-house she
suggested a refreshment-room or reception-room, where one might meet her friends
and rest and solace herself with a little gossip over a cup of tea. This should
be made so attractive that the work of marketing for the family would be a
pleasure instead of an irksome task. London society was described as a great
conglomeration where no one had time for anything; where it was impossible to
become acquainted with one's friends or to meet people whom one wished to know;
to read the books one wished to read or carry out any rational plans.
Friendship, as London society was then constituted and
[-96-] conducted, consisted chiefly in writing notes to say how very
sorry you were that you could not attend the delightful luncheon or dinner at
which you were asked to meet some one whom it would be such a pleasure to know;
and in receiving regrets in the same tenor telling you that the friend with whom
you were to have the long-planned talk over a matter of mutual interest would
have to be excused. It was a breathless rush and an undignified scramble from
one crowd to another-a proceeding of very little profit or benefit of any sort.
She knew numbers of people who were going to re-read Thackeray and Dickens, but
no one had ever accomplished it; time was consumed by an endless succession of
"At Homes," dinners and balls at which people felt impelled to show
themselves for no good or tangible reason. All these pleasant occupations were
possible in the country, reading the books one liked, doing the things one
enjoyed, knowing one's neighbors and being known by them. She admitted that some
sacrifices must be made in migrating from the town to the country. Men, perhaps,
would have to be content with smaller incomes. Half the dissatisfaction with
modern life grew out of the fixed determination to earn a certain sum-say five
thousand a year, but to accomplish this a man sacrificed many things of far
greater consequence than money. She thought it a truer philosophy to earn
£1,000 a year in congenial employment which was in itself a pleasure, rather
than to earn double the sum in a profession that was perpetual slavery or
galling weariness. She recommended scientific dairying as a pursuit especially
well adapted to gentlewomen. As an occupation she thought it far superior to
teaching, even in the higher schools. The scientific dairy-woman might not earn
more than £200 where the teacher with extraordinary good fortune might be able
to command £300; but she considered it better to earn £200 in such a beautiful
and interesting pursuit as [-97-] dairying, than in
one which was at best, precarious, where success depended largely upon favor,
and in which there were innumerable trials and difficulties from which the dairy
farmer was exempt.
At this point I heard a little murmur of dissent from a
plainly dressed girl who sat near me, and who remarked significantly that
"dairy farmers also had their trials and difficulties; and that the cost of
feeding, the accidents that could happen to cows, with the low price of dairy
products, would have to be considered."
The remark was made sotto voce and did not interrupt
the speaker, who continued, emphatically declaring that the country was the
proper place for children, and those were deeply to be pitied who had never
known the freedom of country life, and had failed to acquire that knowledge
which was to be gained only by a familiar acquaintance with fields and woods.
She thought that the bicycle and railway train, with their rush and noise,
fairly typical of modern city life.
A discussion followed not less amusing and entertaining than
Mrs. Norman's bright and unconventional talk. The first speaker did not agree
with the rosy view of agricultural life which the speaker had taken. If one had
a liking for society, he must be content for the greater part of the time with
that of the village doctor, the apothecary, the Wesleyan clergyman or the
ritualistic curate. Much of the pleasure and benefit of life in the metropolis
was in the intellectual stimulus afforded by contact with superior minds; there
only could the perfection of civilization be enjoyed - great pictures, the best
music and the theatres. Mrs. Norman had admitted that the devotee of Wagner
could not banish himself to regions beyond the possibility of hearing "The
Flying Dutchman" and "Lohengrin." He himself had been born,
reared and educated in the country, and he frankly confessed that he was [-98-]
never so miserable as when he was forced to return for an occasional
holiday. He had noticed also that the children always came home from such
excursions with colds, or measles or some infectious disease which they had
entirely escaped in town. This forced him to remark that recent statistics
showed London to be the most healthful part of the United Kingdom, its death
rate being actually lower than that of the provinces. He thought that the dearth
of wholesome amusement had much to do with the depopulation of the country,
forcing young men and women to go to the city where this natural desire could be
gratified, and where both amusement and congenial companionship were within
reach of the poorest. For himself, he acknowledged that he found in the country
no enjoyment equal to reading the pea-green pages of the Westminster Gazette in
the dim light of an underground railway carriage, as he returned home from the
city in the evening-a confession that caused much laughter. Mrs. Norman had
criticized the evening papers-not necessarily the Westminster Gazette any
more than the others, as one of the unavoidable evils of city life - a perfectly
natural discrimination, the speaker thought, since she was connected,
editorially and matrimonially, with one of the great morning dailies. Mrs.
Norman thus arraigned smiled and shook her head once or twice in amiable
protest.
Another of the audience-a woman who, also, was not quite in
sympathy with Mrs. Norman's views - told an amusing story of a Scotch gardener.
She and a friend rode on their bicycles to a well known show place in the
vicinity of London, famous for its magnificent gardens which the owner had
generously thrown open to the public. As they walked through the fine shrubbery
and along the well-kept borders, she heard a cuckoo calling - "altogether
the most ecstatic and loud-voiced cuckoo that she [-99-] had ever heard,"
and she paused and called her friend's attention to it.
The disgusted comment of the gardener was: "Humph! We
have too much of that sort of thing around here!" She thought this a good
example of the appreciation of nature on the part of those who were forced to
live in the country. The gardener disparaged everything, and if she admired a
flower, or a rose of especial beauty, he would tell her that she should have
seen some roses at the flower show which he had gone up to London to visit a few
days before. She felt that he might be regarded as one of those typical
countrymen who instinctively compare all rural institutions to the products of
the town, a comparison she had observed which was always to the pronounced
disadvantage of the country.
Other charming and pertinent talk, pro and con, was followed
by informal conversation in which all took part and during which Mrs. Norman
received the warm congratulations of her friends.