My recollection of those early years is extremely vague, and there is little in them that could interest the reader. I was taken once or twice a year to my father, and always disliked and dreaded those visits, as I feared him greatly, and with good reason. On one of these visits, when quite a child, I persuaded my father's groom to let me mount his saddle-horse, which I remember as a gray animal of what seemed a prodigious altitude. The man put me on the horse's back, and being entirely destitute of common-sense or prudence, actually gave me a whip and left the bridle to me. I applied the whip vigorously, and was very soon thrown off and carried back to the house covered with blood, happily without more serious consequences. Another little incident has more of the comic element. My father employed a tailor for himself, and told the man to make me a suit without entering into any particulars. The tailor being thus left to his own wisdom, made a costume that was the exact copy of a full-grown squire's dress on a small scale. It was composed of a green cut-away coat, a yellow waistcoat, and green trousers, the whole adorned with gilt buttons. The tailor dressed me, and then, proud of his work, presented me to my father and the ladies. If the tailor was proud, my pride and satisfaction were at least equal to his, and we neither of us could in the least understand the roars of laughter that my appearance provoked, whilst our feelings were deeply wounded by my father's tyrannical decree that I was never to wear those beautiful clothes at all. Even to this day I am capable of regretting that suit, and certainly I often see children now whose costumes are at least equally absurd.
CHAPTER IV.
1842.
A tour in Wales in 1842.—Extracts from my journal of this tour.—My inborn love for beautiful materials.—Stay at Rhyl.—Anglesea and Caernarvon.—Reasons for specially remembering this tour.
The pleasantest recollections I have of my father are connected with a tour in Wales that he undertook with me and his eldest sister in the summer of 1842. My aunt made me keep a journal of that tour, which I still possess, and by its help those days come hack to me with a vividness that is very astonishing to myself. Being accustomed to live with grown-up people, and having no companions of my own age in the same house (though I had cousins at Hollins and friends at school), I had acquired a way of talking about things as older people talk, so that the journal in question contains many observations that do not seem natural for a child. The fact, no doubt, is that I listened to my father and aunt, and then put down many of their remarks in my little history of our tour; but I was very observant on my own account, and received very strong impressions, especially from buildings, such as old castles and cathedrals, and great houses, and I had a topographic habit of mind even in childhood, which made every fresh locality interesting to me and engraved it on my memory. Perhaps the reader may like to see a page of the diary. It seems rather formal and elderly to be written by a child eight years old, but it must be remembered that it was an exercise written by my father's desire and to please him. Letters to my cousins at the same date would have been more juvenile. Nevertheless, it was perfectly natural for me then to use words employed by older people, and the reader will remember that I had been learning Latin for more than two years.
"On the road from Rhydland to Abergele we saw Hemmel Park, the seat of Lord Dinorbin, lately burnt down. Near Rhydland is Penwarn, the seat of Lord Mostyn; the house is small and unpretending, the grounds are beautiful. There is a very handsome dog-kennel, in which are kept forty-four couple of fine fox-hounds ready for work, besides old ones in one kennel, and young ones in another: the dogs all in such good order and kennels so perfectly clean. In one field were sixteen hunters without shoes. Lord Mostyn does not live much at Penwarn, generally in London. He is an old man, and at present an invalid. We had several pleasant days' fishing in the Clwyd and Elway; a Mr. Graham at Rhyl has permission to fish in Lord Mostyn's preserve, and he may take a friend, which character Papa and I personated for the time.
"About eight miles from Rhyl is Trelacre, the seat of Sir Pyers Mostyn, a very excellent modern building; the grounds are laid out with most luxuriant taste, nothing is wanting to give effect to it as a whole. In the woods opposite the house is a rich but rather formal distribution of flower-beds; everything appeared to be in blossom. On an elevation is placed the most ingeniously contrived Grotto; at every turn there is a device of another character to the last, here a lion couchant, there the head of Momus, a wild boar's head, a heron, a skeleton, &c., &c. In one place were two old friars seated, each leaning on his stick, apparently in earnest conversation; all these are roughly, but with great accuracy, formed upon the numerous pillars which support a room or two above. The last object you arrive at is a hermit as large as life seated in his cell, with one book beside him and another on his knee, upon which his left hand is placed; his right is laid across his breast. The pillars are so contrived that the little cavern is light in every part; at the entrance is an immense sea-dragon with large glaring eyes and a long red tongue hanging half-way out. The monster had an effect somewhat startling. Next above the grotto is a small room hewn out of the rock, with sofas and pillows on each side the fireplace hewn out of the same rock. In the centre is a stone table, upon which were some beautiful antique bowls, cups, &c. The door to this apartment is a great curiosity, being made to appear as if of rock; we did not think at first that it was a real door. Over this room is another, the residence of a lame woman, who showed us upon the leads above her dwelling a very extensive prospect; amongst the objects was the mouth of the river Dee. She afterwards [took us] to a moss house, and several other nice points in the garden. The walks are covered with the material left in washing the lead ore, through which no weed can even peep. It is many-colored, and the glittering of here and there a bit of ore, lead, or silver, has a very pretty effect indeed."
The reader will have had enough of the journal by this time. Its only merit is the accurate noting down of details that I had seen; but many of the details are such as children of that age do not commonly pay attention to, as, for instance, in this bit about an old church:—
"The church at Dyserth has an east window which is considered the greatest antiquity in Wales; many figures of the saints are represented in colored glass, the lead betwixt the panes is the breadth of two fingers. The yard has several old trees—two very fine yews, and certainly the largest birch for miles round."
I notice a great interest in all beautiful materials throughout the pages of this journal; the kind of wood used for the suites of furniture is invariably mentioned, as, for example, the chairs of solid ebony in the dining-room at Penrhyn Castle, the old oak in the dining-room at Trelacre, and the light oak in the drawing-room, the carved oak ceilings and pillars at Penrhyn, and the use of stone from St. Helen's there, as well as the bedstead that is made of slate, and the enormous table of the same material in the servants' hall. The interest in materials is a special instinct, a kind of sympathy with Nature showing itself by appreciation of the different qualities of her products. This instinct has always been very strong in me, and I have often noticed it in others, especially in artists. Some poets are very fond of describing beautiful materials; but the instinct is not confined to poetical or artistic natures, being often found amongst workmen in the handicrafts, and it may be associated with a sense of the usefulness of materials, as well as with admiration of their beauty. With me the interest in them is both artistic and utilitarian; all metals, woods, marble, etc., are delightful to me in some way.