Nooks and Corners / being the companion volume to 'From Kitchen to Garret'

by J. E. Panton

The years from sixteen to eighteen are undoubtedly the years during which a girl learns most, and in a properly guarded household she would then comprehend more fully than at any other time how necessary it is to use every moment for the best. She would form habits of study, regularity, and appreciation of what is best in art and literature which she would never lose, and which would only develop as years went on; and she would, furthermore, lay in a stock of health, on which she could draw at will when the real stress of living begins, and she finds herself in her turn with a heavy burden of real work on her shoulders, and has a house to manage, a husband to please, and children to bring forth and care for unceasingly.

And this latter is the strongest argument I can use against girls being ‘brought out’ too young; if they are they may marry. I knew one parent criminal enough to allow a child of sixteen to take upon herself this burden; and should they marry and have children they entail on themselves and on unborn generations misery compared with which a life spent always in the schoolroom would be a life of Elysian and purest delight.

The first thing to consider with our girls is their health: let that stand before every single thing; dress them as little mites carefully and warmly; as young girls insist on warm clothing and perpetually dry feet and skirts; never allow a game of tennis on a damp lawn to pass by without seeing that no damage is done thereby; and then, furthermore, insist on early bed until the lesson-time is over; allow no dances of any kind, forbid entirely the children’s parties, which are at the root of half the epidemics, the affectations and the bad manners of the present day; while you take care that pleasant companionship, treats in the shape of afternoon concerts or plays, or tennis-parties with children their own age, these give the necessary relaxation, and you can face the ‘coming-out’ gaieties with a light heart, knowing quite well that your daughter has the necessary physique to stand the strain, and that she has arrived at a common-sense age, and will be able to know when she has had enough pleasure, the while she will care herself for something beside balls and parties, albeit she will in no measure despise a proper allowance of both.

I am no Puritan; I do not object to dancing or theatres, or any other amusement, but I do plead for moderation in all things, and that a girl may have time for something beside mere play. I ask it not only because their mental health must suffer, but because their physique cannot possibly stand that present strain and yet remain intact ready to bear the yet greater strain to which most women are exposed during their married life. I know only too well what an uncontrolled girlhood and unending gaieties did for me, and I am only again writing out of my own experience in the hope that I may save some few girls from the misery in store for them if they begin their fashionable life before they are eighteen and if, when they begin it, they have no moderation about it, and go from ball to ball, party to party, until their faces become thin and wretched, their bloom goes, their tempers and noses sharpen together, and they are unstrung and miserable just at the time when life demands most from them, and they ought to be as well and happy as they are miserable, nervous, and broken in spirits and in health.

I actually have known one mother introduce her daughter at seventeen because the next daughter was far prettier, and she wished to give No. 1 ‘a chance’ before No. 2 appeared on the scene. Can anything be more ignoble than that? And it is to save both mothers and daughters from a similar fate to that which will overtake this couple that I am pleading for the girls; that, in fact, they may be saved from themselves by the prompt action of those who ought to be the first to shield their children from a too early contact with the world.

I should myself keep a girl to regular hours until she was eighteen, but even after that, as I have shown in my last chapter, she should have employment and occupation. Until she was eighteen she should never be in bed later than 9.30, and she should always be down at 8.30, while she ought never to be allowed to go to any large dance before then. Small ones, ending at 11, should be very sparsely attended, and those not at all until she was past seventeen. When the auspicious date of her eighteenth birthday draws near, a great effort should be made to celebrate it properly. On that date a girl comes into her kingdom, accepts at your hands the sceptre of self-rule and the crown of an educated and well-guarded girlhood, and certainly some special notice should be taken of such an occasion.

Not, please, by her being presented at Court; the present-day rush of the wives of wine merchants, successful upholsterers, and tradesmen of all kinds has made what was once a stately and beautiful ceremony a mockery indeed. Of course girls whose parents are about the Court, who have long pedigrees and ancient titles, are bound to be introduced to the Head of Society and to take their places round the throne; but just think for a moment what it means to the ordinary middle-class family, the frightful expense, the worry and strain of the presentation, the fatigue and showing off at the ‘Drawing Room teas’ afterwards, and, finally, the dead and unpleasant certainty that they will never be asked to one Court function, that they are no nearer being the bosom friend of the princesses than they were before, and that their social status has not been improved in the least; indeed, it has gone down, for old friends sneer at the foolishness and scoff when they see the name in the paper, remembering with redoubled force the counters of the wine merchant and shopkeeper, which would have been entirely forgotten had not the ‘fierce light which beats upon the throne’ been reflected on those who approach it and shown up the flaws in the pedigree which were on the way to oblivion, but which give ample scope for scoffing from the very lips which are drinking the tea at the ‘reception’ after the Drawing Room, where all are wondering what the dresses cost, and whether Jones or Smith, as the case may be, will last over the season, or whether he will marry off his daughters before the crash comes and all go under together!

Remember, I am not scoffing at trade; it would ill become me to do so; but I am simply asking my readers to be sensible and to be frankly and absolutely themselves. Personally I would far rather pin my rights to being a lady on the fact that art and literature have been my sponsors than on being the great-great-granddaughter of a king’s mistress or a ruffianly robber of other men’s goods; but that has nothing to do with the subject. A waiter on courts should have business at those courts; therefore I say that those who cannot consider themselves owing the Queen a call, and the courtesy of showing her their girls as they grow up to take their places, either as friends or servants, have any right to go there, and that they had much better stay at home and not make themselves ridiculous by an attempt to be and seem what they can never really be.

Let us suppose that our eloquence has prevailed, and that the girl has reached her eighteenth birthday, and there is no talk of her being presented, or any such nonsense; but still something must be done to celebrate the auspicious event. If the birthday is in autumn or winter, or very early spring, there is no reason why a dance should not be indulged in, more especially if it can be afforded, or if there is room for such dissipation. These two things are, of course, to be considered before anything else.

A ball can cost any sum anyone likes to spend on it; all depends on the purse and the ideas. If we engage a good hall and band, go in for a regular and first-rate supper, any amount of flowers, and so on, I tremble to think what the bills may come to; but all can be ascertained by writing to the different places where such things are to be found. Gunter will give an estimate per head for the supper; the Prince’s Hall secretary will tell you the charges per night; Mrs. Green, of Crawford Street, W., will tell you what her fee for decorating the room would be; and Mitchell, of Bond Street, would provide the band. But people who can afford to arrange matters en grand seigneur are not likely to come to me for advice; if they did, I should only hand them over to the above-named authorities. Still, if these lucky folk should come across my book, this will tell them what to do. But ordinary folk can give a very enjoyable dance for a little over 50l. to about 125 people, making the hours from eight to twelve, and having a stand-up supper at about 5s. a head, ending up with soup just before the guests start for home; and I fancy that, if one had a sufficiently large house, and could manage the supper oneself, it could be done for very much less, particularly if one has a stand-up supper, which is really all that can be required when people have dined late, and only want something to carry them over the later hours and the extra amount of fatigue.