Produced by Fay Dunn, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online

  Elliott & Fry. Photo     Walker & Cookerell Ph. So.
  Eleanor A. Ormerod
]

                        ELEANOR ORMEROD, LL.D.,
                         ECONOMIC ENTOMOLOGIST:
                    AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND CORRESPONDENCE

                        EDITED BY ROBERT WALLACE

               PROFESSOR OF AGRICULTURE AND RURAL ECONOMY
                     IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH

                    WITH PORTRAIT AND ILLUSTRATIONS

                                NEW YORK
                        E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY
                      31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET
                                  1904

                               DEDICATED

                                 TO ALL

                     MISS ORMEROD’S CORRESPONDENTS

                                   IN

                          ECONOMIC ENTOMOLOGY.

                                PREFACE

                                -------

The idea that Miss Ormerod should write her biography originated with
the present writer during one of many visits paid to her at St. Albans.
Miss Ormerod had unfolded in charming language and with admirable
lucidity and fluency some interesting chapters of her personal
experiences and reminiscences. The first working plan of the project
involved the concealment of a shorthand writer behind a screen in the
dining-room while dinner was proceeding, and while the examination of
ethnological specimens or other attractive objects gave place for a time
to general conversation on subjects grown interesting by age. Although
the shorthand writer was selected and is several times referred to in
letters written about this period (pp. 304-307), Miss Ormerod, on due
reflection, felt that the presence, though unseen, of a stranger at
these meetings _in camera_ would make the position unnatural, and
dislocate the association of ideas to the detriment of the narrative.

She then bethought herself of the method of writing down at leisure
moments, from time to time as a suitable subject occurred to her, rough
notes (p. 318) to be elaborated later, and when after a time a subject
had been exhausted, the rough notes were re-written and welded into a
narrative (pp. 304-321). Some four or five of the early chapters were
thus treated and then typewritten, but the remainder of the
Autobiography was left in crude form, requiring much piecing together
and editorial trimming. Had the book been produced on the original plan,
it was proposed to name it “Recollections of Changing Times.”[1] It
would have dealt with a number of subjects of general interest, such as
the history of the Post Office, early records of floods and earthquakes,
as well as newspapers of early date. The introduction of Miss Ormerod’s
letters to a few of her leading correspondents was made necessary by the
lack of other suitable material. The present volume is still mainly the
product of Miss Ormerod’s pen, but with few exceptions general subjects
have been eliminated; and it forms much more a record of her works and
ways than it would have done had she been spared to complete it. From
the inception of the idea the present writer was appointed editor, but
had Miss Ormerod lived to see the book in the hands of the public his
share of work would have been light indeed. Armed with absolute
authority from her (p. 318) to use his discretion in the work, he has
exercised his editorial license in making minor alterations without
brackets or other evidences of the editorial pen, while at the same time
the integrity of the substance has been jealously guarded.

As in Miss Ormerod’s correspondence with experts only scientific names
for insects and other scientific objects were employed, it was found
expedient to introduce the common names within ordinary or round
brackets. Much thought and care have been given to the arrangement of
the letters, and a sort of compromise was adopted of three different
methods that came up for consideration, viz., (1) according to
chronological order, (2) according to the subjects discussed, and (3)
grouping under the names of the individuals to whom they were addressed.
While the third is the predominant feature of the scheme the
chronological order has been maintained within the personal groups, and
precedence in the book was generally given to the letters of the oldest
date. At the same time, to complete a subject in one group written
mainly to one correspondent, letters dealing with the subject under
discussion have been borrowed from their natural places under the
heading of “Letters to Dr. ——” or “Letters to Mr. ——.” While Miss
Ormerod’s practice of referring to matters of minor importance and of
purely personal interest in correspondence dealing mainly with definite
lines of scientific research, has not been interfered with in a few
instances, in most of the other groups of letters on technical subjects
editorial pruning was freely practised to prevent confusion and to
concentrate the subject matter. The chief exceptions occur in the
voluminous and interesting correspondence with Dr. Fletcher, in her
specially confidential letters to Dr. Bethune, and in the very general
correspondence with the editor. It was felt that to remove more of the
friendly references and passing general remarks to her correspondents
would have been to invalidate the letters and show the writer of them in
a character alien to her own.

The figures of insects which have been introduced into the
correspondence, to lighten it and increase its interest to the reader,
have been chiefly borrowed from Miss Ormerod’s published works; and
among them will be found a number of illustrations from Curtis’s “Farm
Insects,” for the use of which her acknowledgments were fully given to
Messrs. Blackie, the publishers.[2] The contents of this volume will
afford ample evidence of Miss Ormerod’s intense interest in her subject,
of the infinite pains she took to investigate the causes of injury, and
of the untiring and unceasing efforts she employed to accomplish her
object; also that her determinations relative to the causes and nature
of parasitic attacks upon crops, give proof of soundness of judgment,
and her advice, chiefly connected with remedial and preventive
treatment, was eminently sensible and practical. Mainly by
correspondence of the most friendly kind she formed a unique connecting
link between economic entomologists in all parts of the world; and she
quoted their various opinions to one another very often in support of
her own preconceived ideas.

The three biographical chapters, III., XI., and XII., were added to the
autobiographical statements which she had left, with the object merely
of supplying some missing personal incidents in an interesting life.
Other deficiencies in the Autobiography are made up by Miss Ormerod’s
correspondence, and the history of her work is permitted to evolve from
her own letters.

A strong vein of humour runs through many parts of her writings, notably
in the chapter on “Church and Parish.” The reader will not fail to
notice the splendid courtesy and deference to scientific authority, as
well as the fullest appreciation of and unselfish sympathy with the
genuine scientific work of others, which pervades all she wrote.
Prominent among these characteristics of Miss Ormerod should be placed
her scrupulous honesty of purpose in acknowledging to the fullest extent
the work of others.

The work of collecting material, sifting, and editing has been going on
for nearly two years, and could never have been accomplished but for the
kindly help rendered by so many of Miss Ormerod’s correspondents, all of
whom I now cordially thank for invaluable sympathetic assistance.
Special acknowledgments are due to Sir Wm. Henry Marling, Bart., the
present owner of Sedbury Park, and to Miss Ormerod’s nephews and nieces,
who have been delighted to render such assistance as could not have been
found outside the family circle. Besides Mr. Grimshaw, Mr. Janson, Dr.
Stewart MacDougall, Professor Hudson Beare, and Mr. T. P. Newman who
read the proofs critically, last, but not least, do I thank Mr. John
Murray, whose friendly reception of the first overtures made to him as
the prospective publisher of this volume brightened some of the dark
moments near the close of Miss Ormerod’s life. I have had as editor the
much appreciated privilege of drawing, in all cases of difficulty, upon
Mr. Murray’s great literary experience.

In making these pleasing acknowledgments I in no way wish to shift the
responsibility as Editor from my own shoulders for defects which may be
discovered or for the general scheme of the work, which was, with slight
modifications, my own. If it be said in criticism that the Editor is too
little in evidence, I shall be all the more satisfied, as that has been
throughout one of his leading aims.

                                                         ROBERT WALLACE.

UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH,

          1904.

                            LIST OF ERRATA.

Page   70, line 31, for “Tenebroides” read “Tenebrioides”.

Page 130, line 11, for “Ceutorhyncus” read “Ceuthorhyncus”.

Page 130 in description of Fig. 14, for “CEUTORHYNCUS” read
          “CEUTHORHYNCUS”.

Page 144, line 7, for “importad” read “imported”.

Page 185, line 1, for “Lucania” read “Leucania”.

=Transcriber’s note:=

     These errata have been applied to this Project Gutenberg text.

                                CONTENTS

                                -------

                               CHAPTER I

                                                                 PAGE

   BIRTH, CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION: Born at Sedbury Park, May,       1
     1828—recollections of early childhood—First insect
     observation—Girlish occupations—Education of the
     family—Eleanor Ormerod’s education at home by her
     mother—Interests during hours of leisure.

                               CHAPTER II

   PARENTAGE: Localities of Sedbury Park and Tyldesley, the         7
     properties of George Ormerod—Roman remains—The family of
     Ormerod since 1311—Three George Ormerods of Bury—Reference
     to “Parentalia” by George Ormerod—The alliance of the
     family with the heiress, Elizabeth Johnson of
     Tyldesley—“Tyldesley’s” experiences during the Stewart
     rebellion in 1745—Descent from Thomas Johnson of
     Tyldesley—George Ormerod, father of Miss Ormerod—John
     Latham, fellow and president of the Royal College of
     Physicians, London, maternal grandfather of Miss
     Ormerod—Connection with the Ardernes of Alvanley and
     descent from Edward I.—The right of the Ormerod family to
     the “Port Fellowship” of Brasenose College.

   REMINISCENCES OF SEDBURY BY MISS DIANA LATHAM: The Ormerod      14
     family of ten—The father and mother and their respective
     interests in literature and art—Sedbury Park and the
     hobbies of its inmates—Paucity of congenial
     neighbours—Annual visit to London—Drives and
     Excursions—The elder and the younger sections of the
     family—Eleanor Ormerod’s favourite sister,
     Georgiana—Interest in natural history and medicine—Miss
     Ormerod at twenty-five—Routine of life at Sedbury—Drawings
     by Mrs. Ormerod—The Library—Music—Models—Separation of the
     family.

                               CHAPTER IV

   CHURCH AND PARISH: Tidenham parish church—Leaden font—The       20
     Norman Chapel of Llancaut—The history of Tidenham
     Church—Curious practices in neighbouring churches—The
     church as schoolroom—Pretty customs on special
     occasions—The discomforts of the usual service—The choral
     service on high days—No reminiscences of precocious
     piety—Impressions of sermons by Scobell and
     Whately—Clerical eccentricities in dress, &c.—The Oxford
     Movement—Dr. Armstrong—Raising the latch of the chancel
     door with a ruler—The woman’s Clothing Club of the
     parish—Lending library instituted and successfully managed
     by Miss G. E. Ormerod—Her accomplishments and merits as a
     philanthropist.

                               CHAPTER V

   SEVERN AND WYE: “Forest Peninsula” between Severn and           33
     Wye—Ruined chapel of St. Tecla—Muddy experiences—Scenery
     on the Severn—Rise of Tides—Colour and width of the
     river—Sailing merchant fleet to and from Gloucester—A
     “pill” or creek—Salmon fishing from boats—“Putcher” or
     basket fishing—Disorderly conduct by fishermen—Finds of
     Natural History specimens in fishing baskets—Severn clay
     or “mud”—A bottle-nosed whale—Seaweeds—Fossils from
     Sedbury cliffs—Saurian remains—Dangers of the cliffs.

                               CHAPTER VI

   TRAVELLING BY COACH, FERRY, AND RAILWAY: Many coaches           43
     passing Sedbury Park gates—Dangers of travelling—View of
     the Severn valley—The Old Ferry passage of the
     Severn—Swamping of a sailing boat in 1838—A strange custom
     when rabies was feared—Window-shutter-like ferry
     telegraph—The ferry piers—The first railways—Curious early
     train experiences.

                              CHAPTER VII

   CHARTIST RISING IN MONMOUTHSHIRE IN 1839: Chartist rising in    47
     Monmouth under John Frost, ex-draper of Newport—Home
     experience—Defenceless state of Sedbury house—Trial and
     sentence of the leaders—Reminiscences of
     troubles—Attorney-General’s address to the jury—Physical
     features of the disturbed area—Plan of the rising—Prompt
     action of the Mayor of Newport—Thirty soldiers stationed
     in the Westgate Hotel—Advance of 5,000 rioters—Their
     spirited repulse and dispersal—Arrest and punishment of
     Frost and other leaders.

                              CHAPTER VIII

   BEGINNING THE STUDY OF ENTOMOLOGY, COLLECTIONS OF ECONOMIC      53
     ENTOMOLOGICAL SPECIMENS, AND FAMILY DISPERSAL: Beginning
     of Entomology 1852—A rare locust—Purchase of Stephen’s
     “Manual of British Beetles”—Method of
     self-instruction—First collection of Economic Entomology
     specimens sent to Paris—Facilities at Sedbury for
     collection—Aid given by labourers and their children in
     collecting—Illness and death of Miss Ormerod’s
     father—Succession and early death of Venerable Thomas J.
     Ormerod—Succession of the Rev. G. T. B. Ormerod—Miss
     Ormerod’s brothers—Especial copy of “History of Cheshire”
     presented to the Bodleian Library—A family heirloom.

                               CHAPTER IX

   COMMENCEMENT AND PROGRESS OF ANNUAL REPORTS OF OBSERVATIONS     59
     OF INJURIOUS INSECTS: Preliminary pamphlet issued in
     1877—Explanation of the objects aimed at—Approval of the
     public and of the press—Changes in the original
     arrangement of the subject matter—Classification of facts
     under headings arranged in 1881—Sources of information
     stated and fully acknowledged—Adoption of plain and simple
     language—Illustrations of first importance—Blackie & Sons
     supply electros of wood engravings from Curtis’s “Farm
     Insects”—The brothers Knight assist—Accumulation of
     knowledge—General Index to Annual Reports by
     Newstead—Manual of Injurious Insects and other
     publications—Notice of the discontinuance of the Annual
     Reports in the Report for 1900—“Times” notice of “Miss
     Ormerod’s partial retirement from Entomological Work,” in
     Appendix B.

                               CHAPTER X

   SAMPLES OF LEGAL EXPERIENCES: First employment as an expert     68
     witness in 1889—Case of Wilkinson _v._ The Houghton Main
     Colliery Company, Limited—Form of subpœna—Rusty-red flour
     beetle infestation in a cargo of flour transported from
     New York to Durban—Report on insect presence—Confirmed by
     Oliver Janson and a Washington expert—A compromise
     effected—Case of granary weevil infestation in a cargo of
     flour from San Francisco to Westport—Letter of thanks from
     William Simpson of R. & H. Hall, Limited.

                               CHAPTER XI

   BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH BY THE EDITOR: Reasons for changes of       73
     residence—Intimacy with Sir Joseph and Lady Hooker at
     Kew—Interesting people met there—Appointed Consulting
     Entomologist to the Royal Agricultural Society of
     England—Insect diagrams—Serious carriage accident—Methods
     adopted in doing entomological work—As a meteorological
     observer—Professor Westwood as friendly
     mentor—Appreciation of work by foreign correspondents.

                              CHAPTER XII

   BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH BY THE EDITOR (_continued_): Public         83
     lectures at the Royal Agricultural College—Reasons why
     lecturing was ultimately discontinued—Lectures at South
     Kensington and other places—The Economic Entomology
     Committee—Simplicity of Miss Ormerod’s home life before
     and after her sister’s death—Programme of daily
     work—Welcome guests—Intimate friends—Sense of humour—Story
     of a hornet’s capture—Proofs of courage—Historical oaks at
     Sedbury—Fond of children and thoughtful of
     employees—Charity—Public liberality—Subsidiary employments
     and amusements—Made LL.D.—Fellowships of
     societies—Medals—Treatment of letters.

                              CHAPTER XIII

   LETTERS TO COLONEL COUSSMAKER AND MR. ROBERT SERVICE:           99
     (_Coussmaker_) Insect diagrams Royal Agricultural
     Society—Surface caterpillars—Wood leopard moth—Puss moth.
     (_Service_)—Paper by “Mabie Moss” on hill-grubs of the
     Antler moth—The pest checked by parasites.

                              CHAPTER XIV

   LETTERS TO MR. WM. BAILEY: Mr. Bailey’s letter to H.G. the     109
     Duke of Westminster on Ox warble fly—Letter showing the
     destruction of Ox warbles by the boys—R.A.S.E.
     recognition—Annual letter and cheque for five guineas for
     prizes in insect work—Looper caterpillars—Mr. Bailey’s
     method of teaching agricultural entomology—Economic
     entomology exhibit at Bath and West Society’s Show, St.
     Albans—Examinership at Edinburgh University—The royal
     party at the show—Cheese-fly maggot—Copies of Manual for
     free distribution—Presentation slips—LL.D. of the
     University of Edinburgh—Discontinuing colleagueship.

                               CHAPTER XV

   LETTERS TO MR. D. D. GIBB: Great tortoiseshell butterfly       128
     infestation—Charlock weevil—Gout fly—Forest fly—Structure
     of its foot—Great gadfly—Horse breeze flies—Deer forest
     fly in Scotland—Sheep forest fly—Hessian fly and elbowed
     wheat straw—Bean-seed beetles—Millepedes—American
     blight—Brickdust-like deposit on apple trees—Insect cases
     for the show at St. Albans—Specimens of forest fly
     chloroformed—Death from fly poisoning—Looper
     caterpillars—Diamond-back moth—Corn sawfly.

                              CHAPTER XVI

   LETTERS TO MR. GRIMSHAW, MR. WISE, AND MR. TEGETMEIER          149
     (_Grimshaw_) The Red-bearded botfly—Deer forest fly—Ox and
     deer warble flies. (_Wise_) Case of caddis worms injuring
     cress-beds—Enemies and means of prevention—Moles—Black
     currant mites—Biggs’ prevention—Dr. Nalepa’s
     views—Attack-resisting varieties of currants from
     Budapest—Dr. Ritzema Bos’s views—Mite-proof
     currants—Woburn report on gall mites—Narcissus fly—Lappet
     moth caterpillars. (_Tegetmeier_) Scheme of Miss Ormerod’s
     leaflet on the house sparrow plague—Earlier
     authorities—Enormous success of the free distribution of
     the leaflet—Miss Carrington’s opposition pamphlet—One
     hundred letters in a day received—Unfounded nature of
     opposition exposed, including Scripture reference to
     sparrows—Fashionable support—1,500 letters classified and
     100 filed for future use—“The House Sparrow” by W. B.
     Tegetmeier, with Appendix by Eleanor A. Ormerod.

                              CHAPTER XVII

   LETTERS TO MR. MARTIN, MR. GEORGE, MR. CONNOLD, AND MESSRS.    169
     COLEMAN AND SONS: (_Martin_) Elm-bark beetle—Ash-bark
     beetle—Large ash-bark beetle—Galleries—Preventive measure.
     (_George_) Mason bee—Roman coin found near Sedbury—Samian
     cup—The family grave. (_Connold_)—Pocket or bladder
     plums—Professor Ward describes the fungus—Dr. Nalepa’s
     publications. (_Coleman and Sons_) Attack of caterpillars
     of the silver Y-moth—Origin of the name.

                             CHAPTER XVIII

   LETTERS TO PROFESSOR RILEY AND DR. HOWARD: (_Riley_) Flour     179
     moth caterpillars—Differences of mineral oils—Trapping the
     winter moth—Orchard growers Experimental Committee.
     (_Howard_) John Curtis, Author of “Farm Insects”—Advance
     of Economic Entomology—C. P. Lounsbury, Cape Town—Sparrow
     Leaflet—Shot-borer beetles—Fly weevil—Lesser
     earwig—Handbook of Orchard Insects—General Index—Flour
     Moths—Snail-slug—Flat-worm—Tick—Degree of LL.D. of
     Edinburgh University.

                              CHAPTER XIX

   LETTERS TO DR. J. FLETCHER: Dr. Voelcker’s gas lime            195
     pamphlet—Honorary membership of Entomological Society of
     Ontario—Ostrich fly—“Silver-top” in wheat—The
     “Crowder”—Mill or flour moth—Shot-borers—Progress of
     Agricultural Entomology—Paris-green as an insecticide—End
     of Board of Agriculture work—“Manual of Injurious
     Insects”—Fruit-growers’ associations—Lesson book for
     village schools—Entomology lectures in Edinburgh—Stem
     eel-worms—Miss Georgiana’s insect diagrams—Mr. A.
     Crawford’s death in Adelaide—Diamond-back moth—Insects
     survive freezing—Resigned post of Consulting Entomologist
     of R.A.S.E.—Finger and toe—Baroness Burdett-Coutts—Gall
     and club-roots—Currant scale—Mustard beetle—Professor
     Riley.

                               CHAPTER XX

   LETTERS TO DR. J. FLETCHER (_continued_) AND TO DR. BETHUNE:   217
     (_Fletcher_) Foreign authorities in correspondence—Dr.
     Nalepa’s books—Silk moths—Red spider—Formalin as a
     disinfectant—Professor Riley’s resignation—“Agricultural
     Zoology” by Dr. Ritzema Bos—Ground Beetles on
     Strawberries—Timberman beetle—Proposal to endow
     Agricultural lectureship in Oxford or Cambridge—Legacy of
     £5,000 to Edinburgh University—Woburn Experimental Fruit
     Grounds—Insects in a mild winter—Index of Annual
     Reports—“Recent additions” by Dr. Fletcher—Proposed book
     on “Forest Insects” conjointly with Dr. MacDougall.
     (_Bethune_) Proffered help after a fire—Eye
     trouble—Locusts in Alfalfa from Buenos Aires—Handbook of
     Orchard Insects—Rare attacks on mangolds and
     strawberries—Pressure of work—Death of Dr.
     Lintner—Sympathy to Mr. Bethune.

                              CHAPTER XXI

   LETTERS FROM DRS. RITZEMA BOS, SCHÖYEN, REUTER, AND NALEPA,    232
     MR. LOUNSBURY AND MR. FULLER: (_Ritzema Bos_) Stem
     eel-worms—Cockchafer—Root-knot eel-worm—Black lady-bird
     feeding on Red spider—Eyed lady-bird—Professor Westwood on
     larvæ of Staphylinidæ. (_Schöyen_) Explanation of
     resignation of R.A.S.E. work—Wheat midge—Hessian
     fly—Wasps—San José scale—Mr. Newstead’s opinion.
     (_Reuter_) Hessian fly—Accept reports on Economic
     Entomology—Norwegian dictionary received and successfully
     used—Antler moth—Paris-green pamphlet—Swedish grammar—Work
     on Cecidomyia by Reuter—Forest fly—“Silver-top” in wheat
     probably due to thrips. (_Nalepa_) Gall mites.
     (_Lounsbury_) Boot beetle—First report from
     Capetown—Supplies electros for future reports—Mr. Fuller
     goes to Natal—Pleased to receive visits from entomological
     friends. (_Fuller_) Experiences in publishing technical
     literature.

                              CHAPTER XXII

   LETTERS TO MR. JANSON AND MR. MEDD: (_Janson_) Deer forest     259
     flies—Identification confirmed by Professor Joseph
     Mik—Flour or mill moth—Granary Weevils—Shot-borer
     beetles—Pine beetles—Contemplated removal to
     Brighton—Grouse fly from a lamb—Cheese and bacon fly—Case
     of rust-red flour beetle—Willow beetles—White
     ants—Bean-seed beetles—Sapwood beetle—Death of Professor
     Mik. (_Medd_) Agricultural Education Committee joined
     reluctantly on account of pressure of Entomological
     work—Sympathy expressed with desire to improve “nature
     teaching” in rural districts—One hundred copies of the
     Manual and many leaflets presented—Proposed simple paper
     on common fly attacks on live stock—Objection to the
     Water-baby leaflet of the committee—Paper on wasps in the
     “Rural Reader”—Retiral from the Agricultural Education
     Committee.

                             CHAPTER XXIII

   LETTERS TO PROFESSOR ROBERT WALLACE BEFORE 1900: “Indian       275
     Agriculture”—Wheat screening and washing—Text books of
     injurious insects—Grease-banding trees—Dr. Fream—Mosley’s
     insect cases—Professor Westwood of Oxford—“Australian
     Agriculture”—Text-book “Agricultural
     Entomology”—Entomology in Cape Colony—Appointment as
     University Examiner in Agricultural
     Entomology—Presentation of Economic Entomology Exhibit to
     Edinburgh University—Death of Miss Georgiana Ormerod—Pine
     and Elm beetles—Index of the first series of Annual
     Reports.

                              CHAPTER XXIV

   LETTERS TO PROFESSOR WALLACE ON THE LL.D. OF THE UNIVERSITY    287
     OF EDINBURGH: Proposal of the Senatus of Edinburgh
     University to confer the LL.D. on Miss E. A. Ormerod as
     the first woman honorary graduate—Great appreciation of
     the prospective honour as giving a stamp of the highest
     distinction to her life’s work—Detailed arrangements
     preparing for graduation—Miss Ormerod’s books presented to
     the University Library—Successful journey to
     Edinburgh—Stay at Balmoral Hotel—Letter of thanks for
     personal attention sent after the event—Howard’s views of
     the honour to Economic Entomology, and of the value of the
     Edinburgh LL.D.—Slight chill on the return journey.

                              CHAPTER XXV

   LETTERS TO PROFESSOR WALLACE AFTER THE GRADUATION:             299
     Congratulations by the London Farmers’ Club—Agricultural
     education and how to help it—Painting in oil of Miss
     Ormerod for the Edinburgh University—Copies of “Manual of
     Injurious Insects” for free distribution—Book of sketches
     for the University—Photographs by Elliott and Fry—Proposed
     “Handbook of Forest Insects” in collaboration with Dr.
     MacDougall—Proposed “Recollections of Changing
     Times”—Pamphlet on “Flies Injurious to Stock”—Graduation
     book—Proofs of “Stock Flies”—Thanks for “Quasi
     Cursores”—Digest of an inaugural address on “Famine in
     India”—Presentation of the oil painting—_Re_ Sulphate of
     copper for Professor Jablonowski—Gall mite experiments on
     black-currants—Appreciation of the company in which the
     oil painting of Miss Ormerod hangs in the Court Room of
     the University.

                              CHAPTER XXVI

   LETTERS TO PROFESSOR WALLACE (_concluded_): Papers of          313
     “Reminiscences” sent to the editor—Details of letterpress
     material and of subjects for plates—Photo of oil painting
     taken by Elliott and Fry—Proclamation of the
     King—Publisher for “Reminiscences”—Return of papers to
     Miss Ormerod—One of several visits to St. Albans—“Taking
     in sail” by discontinuing the Annual Report—Illness
     becoming alarming—Material for “Reminiscences” consigned
     to the editor with power of discretion as to use—Continued
     weakness—Proposed week-end visit shortened—Taking work
     easier—First chapters of “Reminiscences” typewritten—Dr.
     MacDougall as collaborateur—Serious relapse—Proposal of a
     pension misappropriate—Improvement in health followed by
     frequent relapses—Pleasure of looking up “Reminiscences”
     in bed—Medical consultation with Dr. J. A. Ormerod—Liver
     complications—Fifteenth relapse—Touching farewell letters
     written in pencil—Obituary notices in the “Times” and the
     “Canadian Entomologist.”

   APPENDICES: A. _Salmon fishing_, from the “Log Book of a       327
     Fisherman”—B. “Times” notice of partial retirement—C.
     Insect cases and their contents presented to Edinburgh
     University—D. Note on _Xyleborus dispar_—E. Obituary
     notice of Professor Riley.

   INDEX                                                          337

   FOOTNOTES                                                      359

                   LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT

                                -------

                                                                 PAGE
   PUTCHER FOR CATCHING SALMON                                     36
   TIME-TABLE: TRAVELLING 200 YEARS AGO                            44
   FACSIMILE OF MISS ORMEROD’S HAND-WRITING                        89
   SURFACE CATERPILLARS                                           101
   WOOD LEOPARD MOTH                                              102
   PUSS MOTH                                                      103
   ANTLER MOTH AND CATERPILLARS                                   105
   OX WARBLE FLY, OR BOT FLY                                      110
   PIECE OF SKIN WITH 402 WARBLE-HOLES                            111
   PIECE OF WARBLED HIDE                                          112
   BREATHING TUBES OF WARBLE MAGGOT, AND OUTSIDE PRICKLES         112
   MAGPIE MOTH                                                    114
   HORSE BOT FLY, OR HORSE BEE                                    117
   FACSIMILE NOTE RELATING TO THE KING AND QUEEN                  122
   WATER BEETLE                                                   124
   CHEESE AND BACON FLY                                           125
   GREAT TORTOISE-SHELL BUTTERFLY                                 129
   CHARLOCK WEEVIL                                                130
   HESSIAN FLY                                                    131
   HESSIAN FLY MAGGOT ON YOUNG WHEAT AND ON BARLEY                132
   HESSIAN FLY ATTACK ON BARLEY                                   132
   GOUT FLY, OR RIBBON-FOOTED CORN FLY                            133
   FOREST FLY                                                     134
   GREAT OX GADFLY                                                135
   BREEZE FLIES                                                   136
   SADDLE FLY ATTACK ON BARLEY                                    137
   FOOT OF FOREST FLY                                             139
   DEER FOREST FLY                                           140, 141
   SHEEP SPIDER FLY                                               141
   BEET CARRION BEETLE                                            142
   CENTIPEDES AND A MILLEPEDE                                     143
   AMERICAN BLIGHT OR WOOLLY APHIS                                144
   OAK-LEAF ROLLER MOTH                                           145
   LOOPER CATERPILLARS; WINTER MOTH AND MOTTLED UMBER MOTH        146
   CORN SAWFLY                                                    147
   RED-BEARDED BOTFLY                                             150
   WATER MOTH AND CADDIS WORMS                                    152
   LAPPET MOTH                                                    158
   HOUSE SPARROW                                                  160
   TREE SPARROW                                                   162
   ELM-BARK BEETLE                                                170
   TUNNELS OF ASH-BARK BEETLE                                     171
   GREATER ASH-BARK BEETLE                                        172
   PIECE OF ASH-BARK WITH BEETLE GALLERIES                        173
   POCKET OR BLADDER PLUM                                         176
   SILVER Y-MOTH                                                  178
   MEDITERRANEAN FLOUR MOTH                                       180
   ANGOUMOIS MOTH, OR FLY WEEVIL                                  188
   LESSER EARWIG                                                  189
   SNAIL-SLUG                                                     191
   FLATWORM, LAND PLANARIAN                                       192
   SHOT-BORER BEETLES                                             199
   STEM-EELWORMS                                                  209
   DIAMOND-BACK MOTHS                                             211
   TOMATO ROOT-KNOB EELWORM                                       213
   CURRANT AND GOOSEBERRY SCALE                                   214
   MUSTARD BEETLE                                                 215
   GOOSEBERRY AND IVY RED SPIDER                                  221
   GROUND BEETLES                                                 223
   TIMBERMAN BEETLE                                               224
   SOUTH AMERICAN MIGRATORY LOCUST                                229
   PIGMY MANGOLD BEETLE                                           230
   SPINACH MOTH                                                   231
   COCKCHAFER                                                     233
   LADY-BIRDS                                                     234
   LONG-HORNED CENTIPEDES                                         235
   EYED LADY-BIRD                                                 237
   WHEAT MIDGE                                                    239
   NEST OF TREE WASP                                              241
   PEAR LEAF BLISTER MITE                                         249
   CURRANT GALL MITE                                              251
   BREAD, PASTE, OR BOOT BEETLE                                   253
   BOOT INJURED BY PASTE BEETLE MAGGOT                            254
   GRANARY WEEVIL                                                 262
   GROUSE FLY                                                     265
   RUST-RED FLOUR BEETLE                                          266
   MOTTLED WILLOW WEEVIL                                          267
   GOAT MOTH                                                      268
   PEA AND BEAN WEEVILS                                           269
   BEAN BEETLES                                                   270
   “SPLINT,” OR SAP-WOOD BEETLE                                   271
   SHEEP’S NOSTRIL FLY                                            305

                      ----------------------------

                        LIST OF FULL-PAGE PLATES

   PLATE

         ELEANOR ANNE ORMEROD, LL.D.                             _Frontispiece_

                                                                  PAGE

      I. SEDBURY PARK HOUSE AND GROUNDS                              6

     II. GEORGE ORMEROD, ESQ., D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S., F.S.A.         8

    III. FAMILY GROUP—GEORGE ORMEROD AS A CHILD,         AND HIS    10
           MOTHER, UNCLE, AND GRANDMOTHER

     IV. JOHN LATHAM, ESQ., M.D., F.R.S., PHYSICIAN                 12

      V. RUINS OF TINTERN ABBEY, MONMOUTHSHIRE                      16

     VI. NORMAN WORK FROM CHEPSTOW PARISH CHURCH                    18

    VII. LEADEN FONT IN TIDENHAM CHURCH, GLOUCESTERSHIRE,           20
            _AND_ CHURCH OF ST. MARY THE         VIRGIN,
           TIDENHAM

   VIII. NORMAN CHAPEL, LLANCAUT, WYE CLIFFS                        22

     IX. MAP OF THE BANKS OF THE WYE                                32

      X. RUINED ANCHORITE’S CHAPEL OF ST. TECLA,         _AND_      34
           SEVERN CLIFFS, SEDBURY PARK

     XI. ROMAN POTTERY, FOUND IN SEDBURY PARK,         _AND_        40
           SAURIAN FROM LIAS, SEDBURY CLIFFS

    XII. ROYAL MAIL, OLD GENERAL POST OFFICE,         LONDON        42

   XIII. OLD CHEPSTOW BRIDGE, WITH POST-CHAISE         CROSSING     45
           IT

    XIV. A WEST OF ENGLAND ROYAL MAIL, _en route_                   46

     XV. MAP OF DISTRICT OF THE CHARTIST RISING         IN          50
           MONMOUTH

    XVI. CHEPSTOW CASTLE, MONMOUTHSHIRE                             52

   XVII. CHEPSTOW WITH THE BRIDGE OVER THE WYE         AND          54
           CHEPSTOW CASTLE ON THE RIVER BANK

  XVIII. ANTIQUE CARVED CHEST, AN HEIRLOOM                          58

    XIX. TORRINGTON HOUSE, ST. ALBANS, HERTS.                       74

     XX. MISS ORMEROD’S METEOROLOGICAL STATION                      80

    XXI. HEDGEHOG OAK, SEDBURY PARK, _AND_ AP         ADAM OAK,     92
           SEDBURY PARK

   XXII. MISS ORMEROD’S MEDALS, RECEIVED 1870 TO         1900       98

  XXIII. FOOT OF FOREST FLY—SIDE VIEW                              138

   XXIV. FOOT OF FOREST FLY—SEEN FROM ABOVE                        138

    XXV. RUINS OF CHEPSTOW CASTLE, MONMOUTHSHIRE                   174

   XXVI. RAILWAY BRIDGE OVER THE WYE, NEAR         CHEPSTOW        208

  XXVII. MISS GEORGIANA ELIZABETH ORMEROD                          284

  XXVIII. ORMEROD HOUSE, LANCASHIRE                                 300

   XXIX. ELEANOR ANNE ORMEROD, LL.D., F.R.MET.SOC.                 312

    XXX. MISS ORMEROD’S FATHER, AT FIVE YEARS OLD,       _AND_     324
           MISS ORMEROD IN CHILDHOOD

                               CHAPTER I

                     BIRTH, CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION

I was born at Sedbury Park, in West Gloucestershire, on a sunny Sunday
morning (the 11th of May, 1828), being the youngest of the ten children
of George and Sarah Ormerod, of Sedbury Park, Gloucestershire, and
Tyldesley, Lancashire. As a long time had elapsed since the birth of the
last of the other children (my two sisters and seven brothers), my
arrival could hardly have been a family comfort. Nursery arrangements,
which had been broken up, had to be re-established. I have been told
that I started on what was to be my long life journey, with a face pale
as a sheet, a quantity of black hair, and a constitution that refused
anything tendered excepting a concoction of a kind of rusk made only at
Monmouth. The very earliest event of which I have a clear remembrance
was being knocked down on the nursery stairs when I was three years old
by a cousin of my own age. The damage was small, but the indignity
great, and, moreover, the young man stole the lump of sugar which was
meant to console me, so the grievance made an impression. A year later a
real shock happened to my small mind. Whilst my sister, Georgiana, five
years my senior, was warming herself in the nursery, her frock caught
fire. She flew down the room, threw herself on the sheepskin rug at the
door, and rolled till the fire was put out. But she was so badly burnt
that the injuries required dressing, and this event also made a great
impression on me. Other reminiscences of pleasure and of pain come back,
in thinking over those long past days, but none of such special and
wonderful interest as that of being held up to see King William IV.
Little as I was, I had been taken to one of the theatres, and my father
carried me along one of the galleries, and raised me in his arms that I
might look through the glass window at the back of one of the boxes and
see His Majesty. I do not in the least believe that I saw the right man.
However, it is something to remember that about the year 1835, if I had
not been so frightened, I might have seen the King.

In regard to any special likings of my earliest years it seems to me,
from what I can remember or have been told, that there were signs even
then of the chief tastes which have accompanied me through life—an
intense love of flowers; a fondness for insect investigation; and a
fondness also for writing. In my babyhood, even before I could speak,
the sight of a bunch of flowers was the signal for both arms being held
out to beg for the coveted treasure, and the taste was utilised when I
was a little older, in checking a somewhat incomprehensible failure of
health during the spring visit of the family to London. Some one
suggested trying the effect of a supply of flower roots and seeds for me
to exercise my love of gardening on, and the experiment was successful.
I can remember my delight at the sight of the boxes of common garden
plants—pansies, daisies, and the like; and I suppose some feeling of the
restored comfort has remained through all these years to give a charm
(not peculiarly exciting in itself) to the smell of bast mats and other
appurtenances of the outside of Covent Garden market.

My first insect observation I remember perfectly. It was typical of many
others since. I was quite right, absolutely and demonstrably right, but
I was above my audience and fared accordingly. One day while the family
were engaged watching the letting out of a pond, or some similar matter,
I was perched on a chair, and given to watch, to keep me quiet at home,
a tumbler of water with about half a dozen great water grubs in it. One
of them had been much injured and his companions proceeded quite to
demolish him. I was exceedingly interested, and when the family came
home gave them the results of my observations, which were entirely
disbelieved. Arguing was not permitted, so I said nothing (as far as I
remember); but I had made my first step in Entomology.

Writing was a great pleasure. A treat was to go into the library and to
sit near, without disturbing, my father, and “write a letter” on a bit
of paper granted for epistolary purposes. The letter was presently
sealed with one of the great armorial seals which my father wore—as
gentlemen did then—in a bunch at what was called the “fob.” The whole
affair must have been of a very elementary sort, but it was no bad
application of the schoolroom lessons, for thus, quite at my own free
will, I was practising the spelling of easy words, and their combination
into little sentences, and also how to bring pen, ink, and paper into
connection without necessitating an inky deluge. In those days children
were not “amused” as is the fashion now. We neither went to parties, nor
were there children’s parties at home, but I fancy we were just as
happy. As soon as possible a certain amount of lessons, given by my
mother, formed the backbone of the day’s employment. In the higher
branches requisite for preparation for Public School work, my mother was
so successful as to have the pleasure of receiving a special message of
appreciation of her work sent to my father by Dr. Arnold, Head master of
Rugby. All my brothers were educated under Dr. Arnold, two as his
private pupils, and the five younger as Rugby schoolboys, and he spoke
with great appreciation of the sound foundation which had been laid by
my mother for the school work, especially as regarded religious
instruction. From the fact of my brothers being so much older than I,
the latter point is the only one which remains in my memory; but I have
a clear recollection of my mother’s mustering her family class on Sunday
afternoons, _i.e._, all whose age afforded her any excuse to lay hands
on them. Whether in the earlier foundation or more advanced work, my
mother’s own great store of solid information, and her gift for
imparting it, enabled her to keep us steadily progressing. Everything
was thoroughly learned, and once learned never permitted to be
forgotten. Nothing was attempted that could not be well understood, and
this was expected to be mastered. In playtime we were allowed great
liberty to follow our own pursuits, in which the elders of the family
generally participated, and as we grew older we made collections (in
which my sister Georgiana’s love of shells laid the foundation of what
was afterwards a collection of 3,000 species), and carried on
“experiments,” everlasting re-arrangement of our small libraries, and
amateur book-binding. All imaginable ways of using our hands kept us
very happily employed indoors. Out of doors there was great enjoyment in
the pursuits which a country property gives room for, and I think I was
a very happy child, although I fancy what is called a “very
old-fashioned” one, from not having companions of my own age.

On looking back over the years of my early childhood, the period when
instruction—commonly known as education—is imparted, it seems to me
that this followed the distinction between education and the mere
acquirement of knowledge (well brought out by one of the Coleridges),
and embraced the former much more fully than is the case at the
present day. There was no undue pressure on bodily or mental powers,
but the work was steady and constant. The instruction, except in
music, was given by my mother, who had, in an eminent degree, the gift
of teaching. Although at the present time home education is frequently
held up to contempt, still some recollections of my own home teaching
may be of interest. The subjects studied were those included in what
is called a “solid English education.” First in order was biblical
knowledge and moral precepts, practical as well as expository, which
seem to have glided into my head without my being aware how, excepting
in the case of the enormity of any deviation from truth. In each of
the six week-days’ work came a chapter of Scripture, read aloud, half
in English, and half in French, by my sister and me. The “lessons,”
_i.e._, recitation, inspection of exercises, &c., followed. The
subjects at first were few—but they were thoroughly explained.
Geography, for example, was taken at first in its broad bearings,
viz., countries, provinces, chief towns, mountains, rivers, and so on
(what comes back to my mind as corresponding to “large print”), and
gradually the “small print” was added, with as minute information as
was considered necessary. Use of the map was strictly enforced, and
repetition to impress it on the memory. I seem to hear my mother
inculcating briskness in giving names of county towns—“Northumberland?
Now then! quick as lightning, answer.” “Newcastle, Morpeth and
Alnwick, in Northumberland”; and to enforce attention a tap of my
mother’s thimble on the table, or possibly, if stupidity required
great rousing, with more gentle application on the top of my head. If
things were bad beyond endurance, the book was sent with a skim across
the room, which had an enlivening effect; but this rarely happened. My
mother gave the morning hours to the work (unless there was some
higher claim upon them, such as my father requiring her for some
purpose or other) but she always declared that she would have nothing
to do with the preparation of lessons in the afternoon. If all went
fairly well, as usual, the passage for next day’s lesson was carefully
read over at my mother’s side, and difficulties explained, and then I
was expected to learn it by myself. What we knew as “doing
lessons”—which now I believe passes under the more advanced name of
“preparation”—was left to my own care, and if this proved next morning
not to have been duly given I had reason to amend my ways. The
preparation hour was from four to five o’clock, but if the lessons had
not been learned by that time they were expected to be done somehow,
though I think my mother was very lenient if any tolerably presentable
reason were given for short measure. If the work were completed in
less than the allotted time, I was allowed to amuse myself by reading
poetry, of which I was excessively fond, from the great volume of
“Extracts” from which my lesson had been learned. This plan seems to
me to have had many advantages. For one thing, I carried the morning’s
explanations in my head till called upon, and for another, I think it
gave some degree of self-reliance, as well as a habit of useful, quiet
self-employment for a definite time. This was, in all reason, expected
to be carefully adhered to, and I can well remember when I had hurried
home from a summer’s walk how the muscles in my legs would twitch
whilst I endeavoured to learn a French verb.

One educational detail which, as far as my experience goes, appears to
have been much better conducted in my young days than at present, was
that reading aloud to the little people had not then come into vogue. I
have no recollection of being allowed to lie about on the carpet, heels
in the air, whilst some one read a book to me. There was also the
peculiarity to which, if I remember rightly, Sir Benjamin Brodie
attributes in his autobiography some of his success in life, viz., work
was almost continuous. There was never an interval of some weeks’
holidays. A holiday was granted on some great occasion, such as the
anniversary of my father and mother’s wedding-day and birthdays, and on
the birthdays of other members of the family, but (if occurring on
consecutive days) somewhat under protest; and half-holidays were not
uncommon in summer. These consisted of my being excused the afternoon
preparation of lessons, and as the pretext for asking was generally the
weather’s being “so very fine,” I conjecture it was thought that an
extra run in the fresh air was perhaps a healthy variety of occupation.
Any way, the learning lost must have been small, for excepting the
written part of the work the lessons were expected to appear next
morning in perfect form, however miscellaneously acquired. One way or
other there were occasional breaks by pleasant episodes such as picnics,
on fine summer days, to one of the many old ruined castles, or disused
little Monmouthshire churches, or Roman remains in the neighbourhood,
where my father worked up the material for some forthcoming
archæological essay and my mother executed some of her beautiful
sketches (plate VI.). The carriage-load of young ones enjoyed themselves
exceedingly, and prevented the work from becoming monotonous or
burdensome. And there were joyful days before and after going from home,
and now and then, when it was impossible for my mother to give her
morning up to the work, if she had not appointed one of the elder of the
young fry her deputy for the occasion. I remember, too, that I took my
book in play hours, when and where I wished; sometimes on a fine summer
afternoon the “where” might be sitting on a horizontal bough of a large
old Portugal laurel in the garden. And I fancy that the perch in the
fresh air, with the green light shimmering round me, was as good for my
bodily health (by no means robust) as my entertaining little book for my
progress in reading.

It was remarkable the small quantity of food which it was at one time
thought the right thing for ladies to take in public. I suppose from
early habit, my mother, who was active both in body and mind, used to
eat very little. At lunch she would divide a slice of meat with me.
Although now the death, in her confinement, of the Princess Charlotte,
“the people’s darling,” which plunged the nation in sorrow, is a thing
only of history, yet it is on record how she almost implored for more
food, the special desire being mutton chops. Though not in any way
connected with the Royal Family, my mother held in memory the unhappy
event from its consequences. Sir Richard Croft, whose medical attentions
had been so inefficient to the Princess, was shortly after called to
attend in a similar capacity on Mrs. Thackeray, wife of Dr. Thackeray,
then or after Provost of King’s College, Cambridge. For some reason or
other he left his patient for a while, and the story went that, finding
pistols in the room where he was resting, he shot himself. Miss
Cotton—Mrs. Thackeray’s sister—was a friend of my mother. Miss
Thackeray, the infant who was ushered into the world by the death of
both her mother and the doctor, survived, and in her young-lady days was
particularly fond of dancing; and I have the remembrance of my first
London ball being at her aunt’s house.

       PLATE I.
  SEDBURY PARK HOUSE AND GROUNDS, DISTANT VIEW.
]

  MANSION HOUSE, SEDBURY PARK; MISS GEORGIANA ORMEROD ON THE LEFT, MISS
    ELEANOR ORMEROD ON THE RIGHT.
  (_pp. 14, 48._)
]

                               CHAPTER II

                               PARENTAGE

The situation of Sedbury (plate I.), rising to an elevation of about 170
feet between the Severn and the Wye, opposite Chepstow, was very
beautiful, and the vegetation rich and luxuriant. My father purchased
the house and policy grounds from Sir Henry Cosby about 1826, and it was
our home till his death in 1873. He retained Tyldesley, his other
property in Lancashire, with its coal mines, but we did not reside
there, as the climate was too cold for the health of my mother and for
the young family.

[The original purchase was called Barnesville, and earlier still
Kingston Park, and it consisted of a moderate-sized villa with the
immediately adjoining grounds. The property was added to by purchases
from the Duke of Beaufort, and it was renamed Sedbury Park after the
nearest village. To the house the new owner added a handsome colonnade
about 10 feet wide, and a spacious library. Sir Robert Smirke, the
architect of all the improvements, was the man who designed the British
Museum, the General Post Office, &c.[3] Barnes Cottage on the property,
at one time ‘Barons Cottage,’ was kept in habitable repair because it
secured to the estate the privilege of a seat in church.]

About sixteen miles from Sedbury Park are still to be seen the
interesting ruins of the Great Roman station of this part of the
country, Caerwent or the white tower, the Venta Silurum of Antonine’s
“Itinerary.”[4] Its trade and military importance were transferred to
Strigul, now known as Chepstow, after the Norman Conquest. Sedbury Park
is believed to have been an outlying post of this chief military centre,
and it was occupied by soldiers “guarding the beacon and the look-out
over the passages” of the Severn. Considerable finds of Roman pottery
(plate XI.) were discovered about 1860, while drains about 4 feet deep
were being cut near to the Severn cliffs. They consisted chiefly of
fragments of rough earthenware—cooking dishes and cinerary urns, &c.
There was also a small quantity of glazed, red Samian cups and one piece
of Durobrivian ware and great quantities of animals’ teeth and bones,
but no coins (p. 174). After the death of my father it was found that
much of the best ware had been stolen.

My father (plate II.) is well known for the high place he takes amongst
our English County historians, as the author of “The History of the
County Palatine, and City of Chester,” published in 1818. He came of the
old Lancashire family of Ormerod of Ormerod, a demesne in the township
of Cliviger, a wild and mountainous district, situated along the
boundaries of Lancashire and Yorkshire. The varied watershed
(transmitting the streams to the eastern and western seas); the beauties
of the rocks and waterfalls; the shaded glens, and the antique
farmhouses (where fairy superstition still lingered till the beginning
of the past century), have been written about by Whitaker in his
“History of Whalley.”[5] There, in the year 1810, in an elevated
position, amongst aged pine and elm trees, and surrounded by high garden
walls of dark stone, the mansion, (plate XXVIII.)—since greatly enlarged
by the family of the present proprietor—stood in a dingle at the side of
a mountain stream, which rushed behind it at a considerable depth.
Beyond the stream, the rise of the ground to the more elevated moors
includes a view of the summit of Pendle Hill, of exceedingly evil repute
for meetings of witches and warlocks, and congenerous unpleasantnesses,
in the olden time.

  PLATE II.
  GEORGE ORMEROD, ESQ., D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S., F.S.A.,
  OF SEDBURY PARK, GLOUCESTERSHIRE, AND TYLDESLEY, LANCASHIRE,
  FATHER OF MISS ORMEROD.

  _From a painting after Jackson, date circa 1820._
  (_pp: 11, 14._)
]

The family of Ormerod was settled in the locality from which they took
their name, as far back as the year 1311, the estates continuing in
their possession until, in 1793 (by the marriage of Charlotte Ann
Ormerod, sole daughter and heiress of Laurence Ormerod, the last of the
generation of the parent stem in direct male descent), they passed to
Colonel John Hargreaves; and by the marriage of his eldest daughter and
co-heiress, Eleanor Mary, with the Rev. William Thursby, they became
vested in the Thursby family,[6] represented until recently by Sir John
Hardy Thursby, Bart., of Ormerod House, Burnley, Lancashire, and
Holmhurst, Christchurch, Hants. Sir John showed thoughtful,
philanthropic feeling to his Lancashire district, by presenting the land
for a public park to Burnley, and, in connection with his family, he
also gave the site for the neighbouring “Victoria Hospital.” In 1887, he
served as High Sheriff of Lancashire, and was created Baronet. Dying on
March 16, 1901, he was succeeded by his eldest son, John Ormerod
Scarlett Thursby, of Bankhall, Burnley, who, in his surname and
baptismal names, keeps alive the connection with the old family stock
and the families with which the last two co-heiresses of Ormerod were
connected by marriage. With these matters of possessions, however, the
collateral branch of Ormerod, of Bury in Lancashire (from the special
founder of which my father was descended in direct male line), had
nothing to do. From Oliver Ormerod, who became permanently resident at
Bury shortly after the close of the seventeenth century, descended his
only son, George Ormerod of Bury, merchant. From him descended George
Ormerod (an only child), who died on October 7, 1785, a few days before
the birth of his only child—my father—yet another George Ormerod. In a
mere statement of the names of the representatives of successive
generations, of whom no specially distinguishing points appear to have
been recorded, there is, perhaps, little of general interest. But
possibly some amount of interest attaches to the proofs of
representatives of one family having lived quietly on from generation to
generation in one locality since the early part of the fourteenth
century. The connections and intermarrying of the Ormerods with many of
the Lancashire families of former days give the subject a county
interest to those who care to search out the genealogical, historical
and heraldic details given at great length in my father’s volume of
“Parentalia.” Here and there some member of the family appears to have
come before the world, as in the case of Oliver Ormerod, M.A., noted as
a profound scholar, theologian, and Puritan controversialist, and author
of two polemical works—one entitled “The Picture of a Puritan,”
published in 1605, and the other “The Picture of a Papist,” published in
1606. Oliver Ormerod was presented to the Rectory of Norton Fitzwarren,
Co. Somerset, by William Bourchier, third Earl of Bath, and afterwards
to the Rectory of Huntspill in the same county, where he died in the
year 1625.

Something, however, occurred in 1784 of much interest to our own branch
of the family, leading subsequently to great increase of property, and
likewise in some degree, connecting us with the Jacobite troubles of
1745. This was the marriage of my grandfather with Elizabeth, second
daughter of Thomas Johnson, of Tyldesley. Thomas Johnson (my great
grandfather) having married, secondly, Susannah, daughter and co-heiress
of Samuel Wareing, of Bury and Walmersley, got with her considerable
estates, inherited from the Wareings, the Cromptons of Hacking, and
Nuthalls of Golynrode. On the occasion of the march of Charles Stewart
to Manchester in 1745, “Tyldesley”—to use the form of appellation often
given from property in those days—suffered many hardships. As one of the
five treasurers who had undertaken to receive Lancashire subscriptions
in aid of the reigning monarch, King George the Second, and as an
influential local friend of the cause, he was one of those who suffered
the infliction of domiciliary military visitation, and also threat of
torture by burning his hands to induce him to give up government papers
and money in his possession. I have still in my house (1901) the large
hanging lamp of what is now called “Old Manchester” glass, which lighted
the dining-room when my great grandfather stood so steadily to his trust
that although the straw had been brought for the purpose of torture (or
to terrify him into submission) extremities were not proceeded to. He
was ultimately left a prisoner on parole, in his house, until released
in December, 1745, in consequence of the retreat of the rebel army. But
disagreeable as this state of things must have been at the best, it was
to some degree lightened by kindness (or at least absence of unnecessary
annoyance) on the part of the Jacobite officers, of whom stories
remained in the family to my own time. One especial point was their
kindness to my eldest great aunt,[7] then a little child, whom they used
to take on their knees to show her what she described as their “little
guns.” The drinking of the healths of the rival princes, which probably
often led to a less peaceful ending, was mentioned by my father in his
History of Cheshire, as a notable instance of consideration.

  PLATE III.
  FAMILY GROUP—GEORGE ORMEROD AS A CHILD; HIS MOTHER SEATED BEHIND HIM;
    HER BROTHER, THOMAS JOHNSON, ESQ., OF TYLDESLEY, LANCASHIRE,
    STANDING; AND THEIR MOTHER SEATED ON THE RIGHT.

  _Composition from miniature, circa 1780._
]

“On one occasion when the Scotch officers who caroused in their
prisoner’s house, had given their usual toast KING JAMES, and the host
on request had followed with his, and undauntedly proposed KING GEORGE,
some rose, and touched their swords; but a senior officer exclaimed, ‘He
has drunk our Prince, why should we not drink his? Here’s to the Elector
of Hanover.’”[8]

During the disturbed time, when any one bearing the appearance of a
messenger would assuredly have been seized with the papers which he
carried, the difficulty of transmitting information was met by the
employment at night of two greyhounds trained for the service. The
documents were fastened to the animals and thus carried safely to the
adherent’s house, from which as opportunity offered they could be passed
on. The greyhounds, having been well fed as a reward and encouragement
to future good behaviour, were started off on their return journey. In
the present day this plan of transmission would very soon be discovered,
but in those times the nature of the country, the nocturnal hours
chosen, and also the deeply-rooted superstitions of the district, all
helped to make the four-footed messengers very trusty carriers.

In 1755 Thomas Johnson served as Sheriff of Lancashire. He died in 1763,
leaving a widow (who survived him until 1798), one son, and three
daughters—the only survivors of a family of eleven children, of whom
seven died in infancy, three on the day of their birth. Of the four
children who reached maturity, Elizabeth, the second daughter (plate
III.) married my grandfather, George Ormerod of Bury, at the Collegiate
Church, Manchester, on the 18th of October, 1784. He died in 1785, a
fortnight before the birth of my father, who was the sole issue of this
marriage.

My father, George Ormerod (plate II.), heir to his grandfather, was born
October 20, 1785. He was co-heir of, and successor to the estates of his
maternal uncle in 1823, and sole heir to his surviving maternal aunt in
1839. He was D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S., F.S.A., and a magistrate for the
counties of Cheshire, Gloucester, and Monmouth. On August 2, 1808, he
married my mother, Sarah, eldest daughter of John Latham, Bradwall Hall,
Cheshire, Fellow and sometime President of the Royal College of
Physicians, Harley Street, London.[9]

My grandfather in the female line, John Latham, M.D., F.R.S. (plate
IV.), the eldest son of the Rev. John Latham, came of an old family
stock, and was born in 1761 in the rectory house at Gawsworth, Cheshire.
He was educated first at Manchester Grammar School, and thence proceeded
(with the view of studying for orders) to Brasenose College, Oxford, but
the strong bent of his own wishes towards the medical profession induced
him to alter his plans, and he took his degree of M.D. on October 10,
1788. “His first professional years were passed at Manchester and
Oxford, where he was physician to the respective infirmaries. In 1788 he
removed to London, was admitted Fellow of the College of Physicians, and
elected successively physician to the Middlesex, the Magdalen, and St.
Bartholomew Hospitals. In 1795 he was appointed Physician Extraordinary
to the Prince of Wales, and reappointed to the same office on the
Prince’s accession to the throne as George IV. In 1813 Dr. Latham was
elected President of the College of Physicians; in 1816, founded the
Medical Benevolent Society; and in 1829 finally left London, retiring to
his estate at Bradwall Hall, where he died on April 20, 1843, in the
eighty-second year of his age.”

He indulged in the practical pleasures of country life, and maintained a
home farm, on which he kept a dairy of sixty cows. He was a man of great
force of character and of decisive action. On one occasion a man who had
been told that if he returned he would be summarily ejected, came back
to crave an audience. On being reminded of the fact he pleaded, “Oh!
doctor, you do not really mean it.” “Yes, I do,” was the prompt reply as
an order was given to the butler to turn the intruder out.

  PLATE IV.
  JOHN LATHAM, ESQ., M.D., F.R.S., PHYSICIAN EXTRAORDINARY TO GEORGE
    IV., MATERNAL GRANDFATHER OF MISS ORMEROD, IN HIS ROBES AS PRESIDENT
    OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, 1813 TO 1819.
]

Dr. Latham married, in 1784, Mary, eldest daughter and co-heiress of the
Rev. Peter Mayer, Vicar of Prestbury, Cheshire, by whom he had numerous
children, of whom three sons and two daughters lived to maturity. My
mother, his eldest daughter, survived him, as did also her brothers. Of
these the second son, Peter Mere Latham, M.D., of Grosvenor-street,
Westminster, one of Her Majesty’s Physicians Extraordinary, was long
well known as an eminent consulting physician regarding diseases of the
chest, until his own severe sufferings from asthma obliged him to retire
to Torquay, where he died on July 20, 1875.

From our being related to John Latham and his wife, Mary Mayer (although
in point of rank the difference was so enormous between the head from
whom we could trace and ourselves), it is permissible to allude to our
connection with the family of Arderne of Alvanley, and consequent
descent from King Edward the First and his wife, Eleanor of Castile.
This gave us our claim of “founder’s kin” in the election to the “Port
Fellowship” of Brasenose College, to which distinction in my time my
brother— Rev. John Arderne Ormerod—was elected. He was the last Port
Fellow on the above foundation. The record of each generation will be
found in the genealogical table of “Arderne” in my father’s
“Parentalia,” and also on reference to the pedigrees of the many
families of which members are named in the “History of Cheshire.”

           REMINISCENCES OF SEDBURY BY MISS DIANA LATHAM[10]

My cousin Eleanor Anne Ormerod was the youngest of a family of ten—seven
brothers and three sisters—all clever, energetic creatures, and gifted
with a strong sense of humour. A large family always creates a peculiar
atmosphere for itself; it also breaks up into detachments of elder and
younger growth, and the elder members are beginning to take places in
the world before the younger are out of the schoolroom. Eleanor’s eldest
brother was a Church dignitary while she was still a child, teased and
petted by her young medical student brothers, and the darling of her
elder sister Georgiana. The father and mother of this numerous flock
were both remarkable people. Mr. Ormerod, historian and antiquary,
always occupied with literary or topographical research, was an autocrat
in his own family and intolerant of any shortcomings or failings that
came under his notice. He could, however, on occasion, relax and tell
humorous stories to children. The family discipline was strict; the
younger members were expected to yield obedience to the elders, and it
was said that the spaniel Guy (he came from Warwick), who ranked as one
of the children, always obeyed the eldest of the family present. My aunt
had a large share of the milk of human kindness added to much practical
common sense and a touch of artistic genius in her composition; it was
from her that her daughters inherited their eye for colour and dexterity
of touch. Mr. Ormerod was a neat draughtsman of architectural subjects,
but my aunt had taste and skill and a delight in her own branch of
art—flower painting—that lasted all her life.

Sedbury Park (plate I.) was a beautiful home; the house, a handsome
family mansion with comfortable old-fashioned furniture, good and
interesting pictures, old china, and a splendid library, afforded also
ample space for its inmates to follow their various hobbies, and many
were the arts and crafts practised there at various times. The
carpenter’s bench, the lathe, wood-carving, electro-typing, modelling
and casting for models each had their turn, and in all this strenuous
play Eleanor had her full share. Society played a very secondary part in
life at Sedbury; calls were exchanged with county neighbours at due
intervals, and there was some intimacy with Copleston, Bishop of
Llandaff, the Bathursts of Lydney Park, and the Horts of Hardwicke. But
though Mr. Ormerod attended to his duties as magistrate, and went duly
to meetings of the bench at Chepstow, he was quite without sympathy for
field sports and the pursuits of his brother magistrates. He was
absorbed in his own studies, and something of a recluse by nature.

[Miss Ormerod has herself written of the elaborateness of the
arrangements and the great formality which were associated with the
regular county dinner party, the chief method of entertainment at
Sedbury sixty years ago. She referred to the anxieties experienced lest
the coach should not arrive in time with the indispensables including
fish—“the distance of Sedbury from London involving twenty-four hours or
more of transmission in weather favourable or otherwise.” Miss Ormerod
continues:—

“One very important matter in the far gone past times in the arrangement
of the dinner table, was the removal of the great cloth and of two
cloths laid, one at each side, just wide enough to occupy the uncovered
space before the guests, and long enough to reach from one end of the
table to the other. The removal required a deal of care and dexterity,
and I do not think it was practised at many other houses in our
neighbourhood. When the table was to be cleared for dessert of course
everything was removed, including the great tablecloth itself—one of the
handsomest of the family possessions, and of considerable length when
there were the usual number of about eighteen or twenty guests. The
operation was performed as follows:—The butler placed himself at the end
of each strip successively, and a few of the house servants or of those
who came with guests along each side. The butler drew the slips in turn
and the servants took care there should be no hitch in the passage of
the cloths, and so each was nicely gathered up.

“But the removal of the great tablecloth which was the next operation
was a more difficult matter. The great heavy central epergne of rosewood
had to be lifted a little way up by a strong man-servant or two, whilst
the tablecloth was slipped from beneath it and the cloth was started on
its travels down the table till it came into the hands of the butler,
who gathered it up. The beautifully polished table then appeared in full
lustre. The shining surface sparkled excellently and presently reflected
the bright silver and glass and the fruit and flowers with a brilliance
which to my thinking was much more beautiful than the arrangement of
later days.”]

The annual visit to London was a great delight to my aunt, who enjoyed
meetings with her own family and friends, and visits to exhibitions, &c.
Her husband had always occupation in the British Museum, and her
daughters took painting and other lessons. Mary, the eldest, was a pupil
of Copley Fielding; Georgiana (plate XXVII.), and Eleanor later, had
lessons from Hunt and learnt from him how to combine birds’ nests and
objects of still life with fruits and flowers into very lovely pictures.
Both were excellent artists with a slight difference in style:
Georgiana’s pictures had great harmony of colour and composition;
Eleanor’s had more _chic_. Hunt was a very touchy little man—almost a
dwarf—and if by any chance my aunt did not see him and bow as she drove
past he cherished resentment for days after. At Sedbury driving tours or
picnic excursions to the ruined castles and other objects of interest
(plates V., XVI., XXV.), in the neighbourhood were frequent, and the
sketches that resulted were often reproduced as zincographs. Now and
then a tour abroad was achieved, but such tours were few and far
between. The beautiful copy of Correggio’s “Marriage of St. Catherine”
which ultimately became Eleanor’s property, was acquired on a visit to
Paris and the Louvre.

This self-contained family life did not lead to the marriage of the
daughters, and three only of the seven sons married—one very late in
life. Mary, the Princess Royal of the family, was the centre of the
first group—herself and four brothers; Georgiana that of the second,
consisting of two brothers older than herself, one younger, and Eleanor.
Georgiana was a most lovable person; she always believed in her younger
sister’s capacity and in her projects, which were not approved of nor
taken seriously by some of her elders, and could not have been carried
out until after the break up of the home on the death of Mr. Ormerod.
Meantime, the naturalist element in Eleanor was free to lay up knowledge
for future use, and her country life gave leisure and opportunity for
observation of bird, plant, and insect life, to say nothing of reptiles.
Any snake killed on the estate was brought to Eleanor, and if it was
remarkable for size or beauty she took a cast of it to be afterwards
electrotyped, or had it buried in an ant-hill in order to set up its
skeleton when the ants had cleaned the bones. The casts, which resembled
bronze, were sometimes attached to slabs of green Devonshire marble, and
made handsome paper weights. Wasps were at one time a subject of special
study and interest to her brother Dr. Edward Ormerod, and she and
Georgiana once conveyed a wasp’s nest to him at Brighton. I believe he
did not allow the wasps to exceed a certain number, out of consideration
for the neighbouring fruiterers.

The premature deaths of Edward and William, physician and surgeon, were
heartfelt sorrows to the two sisters nearest in age. If Eleanor’s lot
had been cast in later days she might have become a lady doctor of
renown; she had many qualifications for the medical profession and a
liking for domestic surgery; she had strong nerves and inspired
confidence and used to say that she never went a journey without some
fellow-passenger going into a detailed account of all her ailments.
Besides strong nerves she had strong eye-sight and a delicate but firm
touch. Her brothers did not encourage anatomical studies, but she could
prepare sections of teeth and other objects for the microscope as
beautifully as any professional microscopist. Some of my cousins were
strong sighted and very short-sighted, and much inclined to be sceptical
as to my long-sighted vision.

My last visit to Sedbury was in the autumn of 1853 in company with my
step-sister Margaret Roberts, then just beginning to try her powers as
an authoress. Eleanor must then have been twenty-five or twenty-six, but
was considered to be quite young by her family, and in some respects was
really so. She no longer played such pranks as embarking in a tub to
navigate the horse pond, but her fine dark eyes would shine with
mischief, and she was the licensed jester to the family circle.

  PLATE V.
  RUINS OF TINTERN ABBEY, MONMOUTHSHIRE.
  _Frith photo._
]

The routine of life at Sedbury usually began, on the part of the younger
members of the family, with a walk after breakfast prefaced by a visit
to the poultry yard and greenhouses. Georgiana was chief hen-wife, and
kept an account of the eggs and chickens. The park, lying on high ground
between the Severn and the Wye, had beautiful points of view and fine
timber, and there were lovely views beyond its precincts. “Offa’s Dyke”
ran through a corner of the estate, and the discovery of some Roman
pottery in its neighbourhood had given my cousins much occupation in
sticking broken fragments together and re-building them into vases
(plate XI.). Our most beautiful walk, rather too long for the morning
strolls, was to the “double view,” a projecting promontory above the Wye
where the river curves and from whence a lovely view is visible both up
and down the stream. From the morning walk we always brought back
something from hedge or field for my aunt to draw as she lay on her sofa
with her drawing table across it. She was then in failing health, but
still able to draw, and she used to make studies of flowers in pencil on
grey paper, touching in the high light with Chinese white. Each drawing
when finished was shut up in a large book, and there kept until some
gathering of the family took place, when the drawings were produced and
a lottery ensued, each person choosing a drawing in turn according to
the number on the ticket they had drawn. I have a book of these
beautiful drawings (plate VI.) which I greatly prize. In her youthful
days she had painted in oils, and there were some fine copies of Dutch
flower pictures in the drawing-room made by her. In later life the care
of her large family left scant time for Art, but she cherished it in her
daughters, and it was again a resource in her advanced age. The great
sculptor Flaxman was a friend of her father and had encouraged her
youthful efforts in Art. She had amazing industry and had copied many of
his designs on wood as furniture decorations.

  PLATE VI.
  PORTION OF NORMAN WORK FROM CHEPSTOW PARISH CHURCH.
  _From a drawing by Mrs. Ormerod, 1844._
  (_p. 6._)
]

Georgiana and Eleanor usually had some painting or other industry on
hand, or copying to do for their father. In the afternoon we often took
a drive and were taken to see Tintern or the Wynd Cliff or some other
point of interest. After dinner we sat in the library, a fine room with
a splendid collection of books shut up in wire bookcases. Each member of
the family had a key to the imprisoned books, but a visitor felt that to
get one extracted for personal use was rather a ceremony. The beautiful
illustrated books were brought out for the evening’s entertainment and
then safely housed again. On Sundays we walked or drove to Tidenham
Church, a “little grey church on a windy hill” (plate VII.). We took a
walk in the afternoon, and in the evening Mr. Ormerod read a sermon in
the library to us and the servants. Such was the routine of life that
autumn at Sedbury. At the time of our visit, the Gloucester Musical
Festival was going on, but there was no thought of going to hear it. In
later years Eleanor possessed a good piano and studied the theory of
music, but I think that was prompted by her general cleverness and
activity of intellect rather than by any special gift for music. She was
teaching herself Latin during our visit, and as time went on she
acquired other languages. She made beautiful models of fruits by a
process of her own invention. A collection of these was sent to an
International Exhibition at St. Petersburg and she acquired sufficient
knowledge of Russian to correspond with the department of the Exhibition
receiving them.

After the break-up of the Sedbury home, consequent on the death of Mr.
Ormerod, who survived his wife[11] for many years, Mary bought the lease
of a house in Exeter and settled there for the rest of her life; the two
younger sisters took a house for three years in Torquay, where we were
then living as well as their, and our, old and beloved uncle, Dr. Mere
Latham. Wishing to be nearer London, they removed to Isleworth and some
years later to Torrington House, St. Alban’s, where they spent the
remaining years of their lives.

                                                           DIANA LATHAM.

                               CHAPTER IV

                           CHURCH AND PARISH

Our Parish Church (plate VII.), that is to say, the Church of St. Mary
the Virgin, Tidenham, Gloucestershire, in which parish my father’s
Sedbury property was situated, was of considerable antiquarian interest,
as, although the hamlet of Churchend in which it stands is not mentioned
in the Saxon survey of 956, the original church was in existence in the
year 1071. The fabric of the church when I knew it was of later date,
and, as shown by the accompanying sketch, chiefly in the architecture of
the fourteenth century, excepting the south doorways of the nave and
chancel and the tall narrow trefoil-headed windows in the north aisle.
The chief point of archæological interest, however, lies in its
possession of a leaden font (plate VII.) in perfect repair, referable
from its style to the transition period of Saxon and Anglo-Norman
architecture, and considered not likely to be more recent in date than
the eleventh century. The subject derives additional interest from the
circumstance of the precise correspondence of this font in Tidenham
Church with the leaden font in the church of the adjoining small parish
of Llancaut, making it demonstrably certain that both the fonts were
cast from the same mould.[12] The decorations on the fonts are in _mezzo
relievo_. These consist of figures and foliage ranged alternately, in
twelve compartments, under ornamental, semi-circular arches resting on
pillars; the design—two arches containing figures alternating with two
arches containing foliage—being thrice repeated. The details will be
better understood from the accompanying plate than from verbal
description, but may be stated as representing respectively under each
of the two thrice-repeated arches a venerable figure seated on a throne,
the first of the two holding a sealed book, the second raising his hand
as in the act of benediction, after removal of the seal from a similar
book which is grasped in his hand. Each of these figures was considered
to represent the Second Person of the Trinity.[13] On this point I am
not qualified to offer an opinion, but whatever may be the case as to
ecclesiastical adaptation in the representation in the second of the two
figures, the first of the throned figures appears to coincide with the
description of the vision of the Deity, given in the “Revelation” of St.
John, chap. V. verse 1,[14] rather than with any representation of “The
Lamb” that “stood,” as it had been slain, and “came and took the book
out of the right hand of him that sat upon the throne” (verses 6 and 7
of the chapter quoted).

  PLATE VII.
  LEADEN FONT IN TIDENHAM CHURCH.
]

  CHURCH OF ST. MARY THE VIRGIN, TIDENHAM, GLOUCESTERSHIRE.
  THE VAULT ON S.E. SIDE OF THE CHURCH, ABOUT 15 FT. SQUARE,
  IS THE GRAVE OF MISS ORMEROD’S FATHER AND MOTHER.
  _From a sketch by Miss Georgiana E. Ormerod._
]

The illustration is taken from very careful “rubbings” of the Tidenham
Font. The Llancaut font has suffered considerable damage, and likewise
the loss of two of the original twelve compartments. These had
presumably been removed to make the font more suitable to the
exceedingly small size of the little Norman chapel (plate VIII.). This
church, which in my time was almost disused, measured only about 40 feet
in length by 12 in breadth, and possessed nothing of an architectural
character, excepting one small round-headed window at the east end, with
plain cylindrical side shafts without capitals, and a small cinquefoil
piscina. The situation, on one of the crooks of the Wye, and just above
the river, is romantic in the extreme. The ground rapidly slopes down to
it from above, clothed with woodland from the level of the top of the
precipitous cliffs which rise almost immediately beside it to a great
height above the river. Access on that side is thus only possible by
boat, or by a rough way, known as the Fisherman’s Path, along the front
of the cliffs. Nevertheless, because of the exceeding picturesqueness of
the spot, it was a favourite resort on the twelve Sundays in the year on
which (I believe under some legal necessity) service was there, in my
time, performed. The scene, on the only occasion I was ever present
(when our parish church was closed), might have furnished an excellent
subject for a painting, as the congregation (far too many for the little
church to hold), in their bright Sunday dress, emerged from the sloping
glades or woodland, to the open space close by the church. Comfort was a
matter of minor importance. Those who disposed themselves on the grass,
where they had full enjoyment of the fresh summer air, and heard,
through the open door, as much of the service as they chose to listen
to, doubtless enjoyed themselves, but within it was not so agreeable.
The squire’s family were of course installed in _the_ pew, and there we
were packed as tightly as could be managed, so that we all had to get up
and sit down together. We had a “strange clergyman,” reported to be of
vast learning; and my juvenile terror, along with my physical condition
from squeezing, has imprinted the morning’s performance on my
recollection as something truly wretched.

There being no resident population the chapel has since fallen into
ruin, and the font and bell have been removed to the mother parish of
Woolastone, the bell now doing duty at the day-school there. In 1890 Sir
William H. Marling, Bart. (patron of the living) carefully restored the
font and placed within it a brass plate bearing the following
inscription:—

    “Perantiquum hunc fontem baptismalem e ruinis sacelli scī Jacobi
    Lancaut in comū Gloucē servatum refecit Guls̄ Hes̄ Marling Bars̄
    A.D, 1890.”

The venerable relic stands in the hall at Sedbury Park.

  PLATE VIII.
  NORMAN CHAPEL, LLANCAUT, WYE CLIFFS.
]

The history of the “Church” in our parish of Tidenham, whether
interpreted as the body of believers or the building in which they
worshipped, might be well taken, during about the fifty middle years of
the past century, as an illustration of “changing times.” In the year
1826—or thereabouts—when my father purchased the property, Tidenham
Church was no exception to many other churches in rural districts. The
interior comes back to my remembrance as dark, dingy, and very decidedly
damp, as shown by the green mould on pillars and walls. One of the first
improvements was the placing of two good stoves in the church,—one
presented by my father, and the other (rather, I believe, against local
wishes) by the Parish. I well remember the presence of the stoves, as it
was considered by the churchwardens, or whoever arranged these matters,
that the time which was most decorous for stirring the fires was during
the singing as “it drowned the noise.” What our local choir consisted of
I do not remember, but I rather think it was simply vocal, and started
by a “pitchpipe.” But at least there was nothing ridiculous about it. We
did not, as in a church at no great distance, have the violinist and his
instrument carried in on a man’s shoulders because the unfortunate
musician was without legs!

The sittings for the congregation were (I suppose as a matter of course
in those days) all in closed pews with doors—the pews of a size, form,
and respectability of appearance, likewise of comfort and fittings,
according to the social position of their holders. It could not,
however, be said that the chief parishioners had the best places, for
our two large, roomy, square seats were mounted up, side by side, a few
steps above the others at the end of the north aisle, with a good wall
between us and the chancel, effectually preventing our seeing what was
going on in that direction. Within our special pew, which had curtains
more or less drawn, we sat round with our feet at proper times on good
high hassocks. When we knelt we all turned round and faced the sides of
the pew, and my juvenile sorrows were sometimes great towards the end of
the Litany. The fatigue from kneeling on the top of my unsteady perch
produced faintness, and I well remember my anxieties increasing with the
“odd” feeling till I mustered courage to announce to my eldest sister,
whom I held in considerable awe, that I did not feel very well; and
measures were taken accordingly. The pew was said to be just over where
the soldiers were buried who were killed during the Parliamentarian war
at the Battle of Buttington, a locality in the same parish; but on an
occasion of some repairs being made, the flooring was discovered to be
laid on, or close above the live rock, which rendered this view
inaccurate. The surface of the ground was immediately below the floor,
and as the family pew had on its east side one of the great east windows
of the church, and on the north side a smaller one, both with small
panes ill-leaded, and one with a very insufficiently fastened small
window, our Sunday devotions in winter were anything but comfortable.

I believe the rural congregation behaved with great propriety, though
certainly on one occasion it struck me that a reverence during the creed
at the name of Pontius Pilate on the part of the wife of my father’s
farm-bailiff, was somewhat out of place. But we were free from such
lapses in decency of arrangement as occurred elsewhere. The pigeons did
not roost in the tower, neither did a turkey sit on her eggs in the
pulpit, which, considering that the time of incubation for the turkey
hen is four weeks, must have interfered considerably with the due
performance of service. Neither were we, so far as I remember,
scandalised by attendance of dogs in church, whether avowedly
accompanying their masters or making a voyage of discovery as to where
their clerical owner might have vanished. And certainly we did not have
the disgraceful circumstance which occurred in another church with which
I was acquainted, of two ladies of good social position in the parish
walking up to the rails of the communion table to receive the sacrament,
followed by their great Newfoundland dog!

One practice—certainly objectionable, but perhaps not unusual in country
parishes where the church was also used as the week-day schoolroom—was
putting the bags holding the provisions which the children brought with
them for their dinners on the communion table. I do not think that this
was so very shocking, for no irreverence was intended. A table was a
table in those days, and not an “Altar,” and looking back on the matter
it does not appear clear where else the food could have been safely
placed. I fancy there was no regular vestry and, excepting the floor, or
the seats of the pews, there does not seem to me to have been any other
place of moderately safe deposit. However, by and by a room was hired as
a schoolroom, and the church was freed from the presence of the children
and their dinners. I well remember our going over in form to hold some
sort of an examination, which was wound up by my father (who was
certainly better fitted to examine witnesses from the magistrate’s bench
than to probe for what information our little uncivilised urchins
possessed) electrifying the audience by desiring to know whether his
examinee knew the use of a pocket-handkerchief. My mother was a more
efficient aid by paying the schooling of all our own cottagers’
children, and also in allaying strife. On one occasion, when a woman
wished to remove her children from the parish school because they were
better taught at a recently established Unitarian school, she
dexterously overcame the difficulty by stating she meddled with nobody’s
conscience, but if the children went to the parish school she paid, and
if they did not go _she didn’t_. We heard no more on the subject.

Some of our customs were very pretty. On Palm Sunday, that is the Sunday
before Easter Sunday, sometimes known in our part and the district as
“Flowering Sunday,” it was the custom to dress the graves with flowers.
Friends of the family came from a long distance. A son of our
head-gardener would come down from Scotland for the occasion, and the
wealth of yellow daffodils and white narcissus, which grew by the Wye,
close to the little church of Llancaut, helped greatly towards the
decoration. Two Crown Imperials were a greatly admired addition which,
season permitting, appeared to ornament one special grave. The
“flowering” was a touching and pleasing remembrance of the friends whose
bodies rested below, until in after years the custom gradually arose of
placing artificial flowers along with the fresh blossoms, and then
followed the much to be deprecated practice of putting little cases of
flowers of tinsel, or anything that was approved of, which might remain
on the grave. At Christmas time we had the real old-fashioned church
decorations of good large boughs of holly, with plenty of red berries,
mistletoe, laurel, and anything evergreen of a solid sort. The squire
(_i.e._, my father) contributed a cartload of evergreen branches, and as
a matter of course, they were applied largely to ornamenting our corner
pew with more regard to appearance than comfort.

The service was performed simply, as was customary in those days,
without any music excepting the singing of the hymns, but as nothing was
omitted, and there was, I believe, no curate, it must have been rather
fatiguing to the vicar, and it certainly was a terribly long business
especially for those not always in good health, if they stayed for the
Communion Service on the rare occasions on which it was administered.
The drive from the Park to the bottom of the hill on which the Church
stood, was upwards of two miles. Then came a wearying walk up the hill
until this became so steep that in the Churchyard there were successive
little arrangements of steps to help us up the ascent. Within, it seems
to me, that the clergyman neither excused himself, nor us, anything that
might have lightened the strain, bodily and mental, to the younger
attendants. The creed of St. Athanasius was duly gone through as well as
the Litany, and addresses, which nowadays are cut very short, came at
full length. When, after the return drive, we got safely home, I will
not say but that our spiritual state might have been better had our
bodily condition been less open to the unsettling influence of a desire
for a much-needed meal.

One pleasure of the high days was having the fine old hymns for Easter
or Christmas, which no bad singing can spoil, as a variety on Sternhold
and Hopkins, but I still bear in mind the absolute depression caused by
that doleful production, the hymn called “The Lamentation of a Sinner.”
To this day it seems to me that it would be better for such a
composition to be omitted from our service.

Although it appears to be the correct thing for those who have been
before the public in later life to have reminiscences (or for their
biographer to invent them), of their precocious piety, I cannot remember
that I was ever much given that way. I think that I was as a child kept
in steady paths of proper behaviour, and amongst the items taught was
certainly scrupulous observance of the fifth commandment in all its
branches. Any deviation from truth was another point, the wickedness of
which was most sedulously inculcated; and I should say that from my
earliest days I was thoroughly well grounded in as much simple and
necessary religious information as my small head could carry.

But I did not indulge in fine sentiments, felt or expressed, and I think
that my first absolute feeling on religious matters was roused when in
one of our spring visits to London, I went regularly on Sunday morning
with the family to attend the service at the Vere Street Chapel, where
Mr. Scobell was then vicar, and some clergyman of high standing
occasionally preached. One thing that was very charming to a girl who
had not heard anything of the kind before, was the hymn singing. The
splendid hymn “Thou art the way,” imprinted itself on my mind, as
likewise a part of a sermon by Mr. Scobell, on the basis of our trust in
God. He enumerated various of the high characteristics of the Deity; His
boundless power, His holiness and other characteristics of His majesty.
With the mention of each characteristic he put the question, “Does this
give you a claim for acceptance?” until he came to the climax, “His
love,” with the words “_but His love, that_ you may trust.” Perhaps if
the good man had known how these words would abide to old age as a
comfort to one who was then amongst the youngest of his congregation, it
would have given him pleasure.

The Archbishop of Dublin, the celebrated Dr. Whately, also preached at
this Chapel, and I heard him deliver his grand sermon on “the doubts
leading to the assured belief of St. Thomas.” I suppose this time was
what in some circles would have been called my “awakening,” but we in
our family neither thought nor spoke of these things; and any allusion
to such matters would have brought on me (possibly very rightly) an
awakening of another kind, which would have entirely disinclined me to
favour the family with any religious views, beyond what might be shown
in behaving with propriety and above all doing as I was bid to the best
of my ability.

Reverting to early recollections of ecclesiastical matters, or things in
which the clergy might have been expected, _ex-officio_, to interfere,
there certainly was room for improvement, but this was not peculiar to
the olden time. Some of the curious circumstances of which accounts
reached my young ears are better forgotten. One thing that I remember
was the very different position relating to sporting, and also to the
divergence in dress from the great precision now in vogue. A clergyman
of somewhat high position, being, I suppose, pressed for time on one
occasion, performed the funeral service in his “pink” visible beneath
his surplice. Another, subsequently a favourite with all his poorer
parishioners for his kindness, when a candidate for orders, was
encouraged by his father to the necessary mental labour by the promise
that if he passed his examination he should have a double-barrelled gun!
In a locality not far from the edge of Monmouthshire, I myself saw the
incumbent of one of the small livings with his coat off loading a manure
cart! He comes back to my memory as doing the work quietly and gravely,
and with no more appearance of derogation than if he had been budding
the roses in his garden; still the work must have taken a considerable
amount of time from the purposes of his ordination.

The “Oxford” or “Tractarian Movement” of 1833-45[15] made an enormous
commotion, and perhaps for a retired locality nowhere more than in our
own parish.

After the death of the old vicar, amongst a succession of clergy the
most noted was Dr. Armstrong (presented 1846).[16] With him came the
full tide of the Oxford Movement, and as he was a highly accomplished
man, eloquent in the pulpit, of charming society manner in the
drawing-room, and with his heart fixed on driving his own views of
reform and restoration forward, the holders of differing ecclesiastical
views in the parish were soon very thoroughly by the ears. My father as
“squire” and chief resident landowner had always tried (much to his own
discomfort at times) to uphold the cause of decency and order. But with
the new arrangements came all sorts of trouble from an excess of
ceremonial, and peace seemed to have vanished. The attempted setting up
of confession caused much trouble, and difference of lay and clerical
opinion in the restoration of the Church was a fertile cause of
ill-feeling. One special point was the right claimed by the vicar to
prevent any of the general congregation entering the church by the
chancel door. We had always gone in that way, and it was not convenient
to reach the family pew by going round two sides of the church, so my
father stuck to his legal rights, and the door was not visibly fastened.
But one unlucky day when we, the ladies of the family, arrived as usual
and tried to go in, to our consternation it appeared impossible to turn
the latch. It was a remarkably pretty handle—I suppose an imitation of
mediæval ironwork—but it required more than common woman’s strength to
make this unlucky invention act in admitting us to the church. However,
we were not to be kept out by this ingenious device. Muscularly I was
remarkably strong from working in wood and stone, and I was perfectly
happy to forward my father’s wishes, so thenceforward for many a week I
went to church with a round ruler in my pocket, and slipping this into
the hanging bit of ironwork, I easily raised the latch and gave my
mother and sisters entrance to church. I did not object to my part of
the ceremony in the least—rather liked it, in fact—but looking back from
graver age it seems to me that it would have been better if the vicar
had not driven the squire to defend the rights of the congregation by
such forcible measures. After a while the latch (or the vicar’s view on
the subject) was loosened, and we obtained entrance without, like the
violent, being obliged to take it by force.

The real troubles of the times were endless. It was even possible for a
sincerely religious man to absent himself from the reception of
communion on the ground that he was not able to participate with
Christian comfort and in a charitable frame of mind. Within the church
building itself the condition of things was not satisfactory. The
openings beneath the very “open” seats, whereby was secured free
circulation for dogs and draughts, were unpleasant in various ways.

The appointment of our skilled and accomplished vicar, Dr. Armstrong, to
the Bishopric of Grahamstown in South Africa, for which he was eminently
fitted, was hailed by many of us with heartfelt gratitude. In later
years, under the kindly care of the Rev. Percy Burd (successor in 1862
of the Rev. Alan Cowburn) who, without thinking it necessary to push
everything to extremities, attended with the utmost care to proprieties
of detail of worship in church, to social friendliness, and to care of
the poor, we passed along in paths of comfort and peace, for which some
of us were deeply grateful.

Amongst various parish or local matters, of which the bodily presence
has, to a great degree, passed away, and the remembrance that at one
time such things were has probably faded from most of the minds in which
they ever held a place, are turnpike gates, with their adjoining
toll-houses; also the parish stocks and the parish pound.

In parochial arrangements in my day two great improvements arose, one of
which has now long been a regular part of parish work, but was new at
least to us. This was a women’s clothing club. The other was the
commencement of the plan of lending books to those who otherwise would
rarely have seen them. It was introduced by my sister, Georgiana E.
Ormerod, when little more than a girl, quite at her own expense. It was
continued by her without any pecuniary assistance (unless may be
sometimes some small co-operation from myself) to the end of her long
life.

The clothing club was set on foot under some difficulties by the wife of
one of the clergy resident in our parish, for the goods procurable at
Chepstow, the nearest town, were by no means remarkable for their
quality, and Mrs. Morgan thought herself bound to do the best in her
power for her poor subscribers. So the matter was accommodated (not
without a good deal of grumbling from Chepstow shopkeepers about money
being taken out of their pockets) by part of the goods brought from
Bristol (where excellent material was to be had) for the women to choose
from, being sent previous to “club day” to Mr. Morgan’s large and
commodious house. In those days, so far as I know, the plan of sending
the women with tickets to the shops had not been adopted, and our
method, though exceedingly laborious to the lady manager of the club,
was good for the women, for it ensured that their choice was confined to
the very best materials, all of a useful kind, and at the lowest
possible prices.

When a growing up girl, perhaps about sixteen, my sister Georgiana
thought it would be a pleasure to the children of our own cottagers to
have some entertaining books, and she began by lending them from the
small store which had gradually come down from the elders of our
generation. She chose carefully what she thought would be of interest,
and very soon the elder children took to reading, or sometimes the
fathers would read aloud to their families. My sister always either read
the books herself or knew the nature of the contents before lending
them, and when done with they were brought back and exchanged. The
borrowing rapidly spread beyond our own cottagers till it included our
farmers and their friends at Gloucester and Bristol. The books were
almost invariably treated with all reasonable care, and scarcely ever
was one a-missing. Besides the entertainment, they acted as an antidote
to the attractions of the public-house. It was a great delight to my
sister when she had a request for a book, because Jack or Dick was home
from his ship or on a holiday, and they wanted a book that would keep
him from the “public.” I attribute much of my sister’s success to the
care with which, even after her book-lending had extended to far-distant
localities, she chose the books. On one occasion when she had made a
donation of books of her own choosing to the Lending Library, Bethnal
Green, London, she was greatly pleased to hear that the boys and girls
had passed the word round amongst the factories of the entertaining
books that had arrived. Those we found suited best (for I was in some
degree her assistant) were accounts of real incidents made into
narratives. Ballantyne’s earlier books with accounts of the fire
brigade, post office, lighthouse and the like were great favourites,
perhaps none the less for the conversations being at times a trifle
vulgar; but when a writer took up some special view, as of teetotalism,
high-churchism, or any other specialism, we dropped him. Stories of
olden times, such as the Plague in London, or the Great Fire; risings in
Henry the Eighth’s time; wars of the time of Charles the First and
Cromwell; forest troubles of the time of William Rufus, and the
like—told as stories, with the facts correct although the thread on
which they were strung was imaginary—were always favourites. We seldom
lent absolutely religious books unless they were asked for, and then we
took care that they should be of a solid and interesting sort; but
whether sacred or secular the number of books lent or given for lending
in the course of the year was very great.

My sister was a highly accomplished woman, a good linguist and
historian, and a careful scriptural student. As a scientific
entomologist and a Fellow of the Entomological Society of London, she
was a co-operator with me in my work. She devoted her artistic talent
for many years to the execution of excellent diagrams, serviceable for
agricultural purposes, of insects injurious to farm and orchard produce,
some of which she made over to the Royal Agricultural Society, but the
greater number she presented to friends interested in lessening the
amount of loss through insect injury, and to Agricultural Colleges. From
girlhood to old age she unceasingly carried on her chosen work of
distribution of useful healthy literature. She asked no aid, nor made
the considerable sums she expended, and the careful cordial thought she
gave to this work, matter of public notoriety, but in her last moments
it brought a smile to her face when I told her that I purposed to
continue her work.

My father when living near Chester had the first news on a Sunday
morning before church time, of the Duke of Wellington’s success, and
that the battle of Waterloo had been fought and won. After service he
mounted on a tombstone and announced the glorious news to the assembled
congregation. In my early days in Gloucestershire, a neighbour, Captain
Fenton, was at times thought to be tedious in his recurrence to the
charge of the Scots Greys in which he had served, but it was a grand
memory all the same.

In a much humbler sphere and at a different stage of the same great
struggle an interesting part was played by a very decent
woman—afterwards a servant in our family—at the burial of Sir John Moore
at Corunna. She was proud to remember that she was one of those who held
a lanthorn at the ceremony alluded to in Wolfe’s poem:—

                “We buried him darkly at dead of night
                     *     *     *      *     *     *
                 By the struggling moonbeams’ misty light
                 And the lanthorn dimly burning.”

  PLATE IX.
  MAP OF THE BANKS OF THE WYE.
  SEDBURY PARK PROPERTY, THE DARKLY SHADED AREA BETWEEN
  SEVERN AND WYE.
  (_pp. 33 and 38._)
]

                               CHAPTER V

                             SEVERN AND WYE

The locality round which most of the recollections of nearly half my
life centre is in the district of Gloucestershire, between the Severn
and the Wye (opposite Chepstow in Monmouthshire, plate IX.), almost at
the extremity of the peninsula, sometimes not inaptly called the “Forest
Peninsula,” as some of the “Hundreds” comprised in the more widely
extended area stretching on to the Forest of Dean near Newnham, are
technically called the “Forest Hundreds,” although what is commonly
thought of (at the present day) as the Forest of Dean, has long since
ceased to be connected, popularly speaking, with the lower extremity of
the peninsula. This is bounded on the two sides by the Severn and the
Wye respectively; and at intervals it presents to the Wye considerable
frontage of high cliffs of mountain limestone, and to the Severn red
marl, capped more or less with lias. It terminates at the junction of
the two rivers in a small area, which is an island at high water, but
accessibly connected with the mainland at low water. Here, that is on
the rocky ground at the point of confluence of the Wye with the Severn,
were still existing in my time (that is up to 1873) the few but massive
remains of the Hermitage and Chapels, popularly known collectively as
the Chapel of St. Tecla or Treacle Island (plate X.). The name as given
by William of Worcester in full form is “_Capella Sancti Teriaci
Anachoretæ_.” He describes the locality likewise as “The Rok Seynt
Tryacle,” but not having now the opportunity of consulting his
observations, I am not able to say whether the ancient chronicler gives
any reason for the building of this little but massive knot of
buildings, or for its overthrow, which must have been a somewhat
laborious task, and from the thickness and the solidly built nature of
the walls, one that required co-operation. In the short account given by
my father in “Strigulensia” from which I borrow some part of these
notes, he says, “It would be vain to attempt identification of the
Hermit whose name is associated with the ruins, and who does not appear
in the calendar of saints, but he occurs as follows in the “Valor
Ecclesiasticus” of Hen. VIII., vol. ii. p. 501,” “Capella Sancti Triaci
valet nihil, quâ stat in mare et nulla proficua inde proveniunt.”
Whether modern skilled archæologists may have thrown light on the early
history of the anchorite and his Severn and seaweed-girt chapel I do not
know, but few places could be found less attractive for the
archæeological picnic-excursions which have become fashionable of late
years. Even to my brothers and myself, accustomed as we were to Severn
mud, and to picking our way fairly safely over and amongst the coarse
brown slippery seaweed fronds (chiefly, if I remember rightly, the
_Fucus serratus_), the passage over such parts as were not then
submerged was an exceedingly muddy progress, needing a deal of care lest
we should take a sudden slide into one of the little rock basins
concealed by the “kelp” or other coarse brown seaweed. But once arrived,
it was very pleasant to sit in the sunshine and enjoy the glorious view
down the Estuary of the Severn, the fresh salt air blowing round us, or
otherwise employ ourselves to our fancy. From careful measurements we
found the length of the chapel to have been 31 feet 6 inches, the width
14 feet 6 inches, and the thickness of the walls, wherever sufficient
remained for observation, approximately 3 feet.[17] We had to be quick
in our operations and our return had to be kept in mind, or we should
have had to be fetched off in a boat, and under all circumstances it was
probably best for the sake of appearances that our walk home should be
as far as possible by the fields or under the cliffs where minutiæ as to
condition of boots, &c., were unimportant.

The characteristics of the scenery of each of the rivers are wholly
different. The Severn above Beachley and Aust (in former days the
land-points of the much-used “Old Passage”) spreads into a wide area of
water, perhaps about a mile wide at the narrowest, and at high tide
forming a noble lake-like expanse. The Wye, on the contrary, as shown in
the map (plate IX.), takes its sinuous and narrow course between
successive promontories, projecting alternately from the Gloucestershire
and Monmouthshire banks.

  RUINED ANCHORITE’S CHAPEL OF ST. TECLA, ON THE CHAPEL ROCK
  WHERE SEVERN AND WYE MEET.
  _From a sketch by Miss E.A. Ormerod._
  (p. 33.)
]

  SEVERN CLIFFS, SEDBURY PARK.
  (p. 40.)
]

Across some considerable portion of the river a quarter of a mile or so
above Beachley, on the Gloucestershire side, a rocky ledge of limestone
called “The Lyde” projects at low tide, causing a backwater of which the
steady roar can be heard at a long distance.[18] Cormorants on the rock,
and conger-eels below it, were regular inhabitants or visitors—the
former presumably attracted by the latter, which served to some degree
also as food to the fishermen, although pronounced to be
“slobbery-like.”

The muddy colour of the Severn was not in itself picturesque—at least I
have never heard the point mentioned with admiration; but to me, born as
I was by this noblest of our rivers, it seemed to convey a comfortable
idea of homeliness and strength. Sometimes, however, in the early
morning or in certain conditions of light, the deep rosy colouring was
almost as if the whole width of water had been changed to blood; then
the effect was very splendid, and as wonderful still as it must have
been in days long gone by to Queen Boadicea:—

             “Still rolls thy crimson flood in glory on
                As when of old its deep ensanguined dye
              Told to the warrior Queen her falling throne,
                Her people’s death, the foemen’s victory.”

But, independently of other considerations, a bend in the river was of
great local service. It formed a bay of about perhaps three-quarters of
a mile across, bounded to the west by our own and the Beachley cliffs,
and further protected, or endangered, on the southern side by a low
range of rocks running out into the river. With the rising tide the
import shipping to Gloucester, which in those days was extensive, put in
here to be searched by the Custom House officials. At that time
(excepting tugs) it was entirely composed of sailing vessels mostly
laden with corn, wine, and timber, and the mixed fleet moving about in
the bay with colours flying was a very lively sight. In due time they
passed on—the three-masters, ships, and barques, or the graceful
chasse-marées, taking the lead; brigs and schooners following, and
sloops and—if weather permitted—Severn trows bringing up the rear.
These, however, as they differed very little in formation from canal
barges, required tolerably fair or at least quiet weather to allow them
to proceed in safety. The procession of shipping came along almost
beneath our cliffs, the deep channel being on that side, and perhaps it
was as well that they were no nearer, or the nautical remarks might have
been more often audible to the young people than was desirable!

A special convenience to ourselves was a little creek under the cliffs,
called in those parts a “pill” (presumably from the Welsh pwll or pool),
which allowed of coals being run in a sloop across from Bristol and
carted up to the house by a shorter road than that from Chepstow.

  FIG. (A).—PUTCHER FOR CATCHING SALMON.
]

Salmon fishing was carried on partly by nets from fishing boats, partly
by rows of baskets known as “putts” or “putchers.” The boats during the
boat fishing lay above the edge of the water on the sloping and slippery
frontage of the shore. When the tide served for fishing, the men went
down from the village above the cliffs to their boats across the flat
and precipitously-edged grass, between the base of the low cliffs and
the sloping shore. Each man wriggled with might and main at his boat
till he loosened its adhesion to the tenacious mud and started it on its
slide with its bows foremost towards the water. Once off, of course the
pace accelerated; its owner, running behind, held on and clambered in as
best he could, and the two arrived safely and with a great jolt on the
water. The boats then formed in line, secured by being tied stern to
stern at about a boat’s length from each other, and presumably anchored
also, but this I do not remember. The net of each boat was lowered, and
nothing further occurred till a fish was captured; then the net was
lifted, the fish, shining in all the beauty of its silvery scales, taken
out, and the net lowered again. These were the best fish; those that
were caught in the putts were “drowned” fish, and unless the fishermen
were fairly on the alert to secure them before the falling tide had left
the baskets long uncovered, there was a very good chance of the eyes
being pecked out or the fish otherwise disfigured by birds.

The putcher or basket fishing was carried on by means of very open
extinguisher-shaped baskets each long enough to hold, it can hardly be
said accommodate, a good-sized salmon. The frame or stand on which these
baskets were fixed was formed of two rows of strong poles or upright
pieces of wood, running down the shore, across the narrow of the river,
for many yards, firmly fixed between high and low tide level, at such a
distance as would allow the baskets to reach from one side to the other.
Horizontal poles or pieces of wood connected the upright poles, and to
these horizontal supports the baskets were attached, so as to form rows
with the open ends of the extinguishers facing up stream and all ranged
one storey above the other. The fish were drifted into the basket trap,
and of course, though they might injure themselves in their struggles,
and to some degree their market value, they were powerless to effect
their escape and withdraw backward against the set of the tide.[19]

The much larger form of basket described by Mr. Buckland as “putts,” and
as being used for catching flat fish, was of a slightly different
make—formed only of two instead of three pieces; one large piece, so
wide at the opening that I, as a girl, had no difficulty in standing
within it, and a very much smaller piece, forming a kind of nose. This
little adjunct was, I believe, taken off and searched by the fishermen
for what it contained. To my sister Georgiana and myself it was a great
pleasure to go down to where the two great eel-putts stood on clean
shore at very low tide below the longest row of salmon-putchers, and
search for anything that was to be found. My sister was a good
conchologist. We searched for seaweed, &c., &c., and thereby got a deal
of pleasant amusement. The fishermen, who knew us well, made no
objection to our investigations, though, as one of the men remarked on
one occasion, “It was not everybody they liked to see near the putts.”

In our immediate neighbourhood the fishermen were quiet—at least I never
heard of their getting into very objectionable difficulties—but about
eight miles higher up the river, near Lydney, things in this respect
were by no means all that could be wished. On one occasion they captured
the Fishery Inspector himself—whose duty it was to ascertain that the
meshes were not below a certain measurement—and secured him in the nets.
Another time somebody (who, unluckily for him, bore some resemblance to
the obnoxious inspector) got nearly sloughed up in one of the great
marsh ditches, and would have been left to live or die as might
chance—probably the latter—but for the arrival of timely help. My father
being one of the acting magistrates of the district, we used to hear
from time to time of these and other “mauvaises plaisanteries” in the
neighbourhood of the Forest of Dean.

On reference to the portion of the Ordnance Map (plate IX.) it will be
seen that there is a broad band marked “mud,” of about a sixth of a mile
in width at the widest part and extending for about a mile and a half by
the side of the deep channel of the Severn, between it and the cliffs of
the Beachley and Sedbury Bay.

The most remarkable capture of which I have any recollection as taking
place in the waters, or rather in the mud of the Severn, was said to be
a “Bottle-nosed whale,” or Dolphin, _Delphinus tursio_, Fabr., but it
was so many decades of years ago, that I have no means now of turning to
any record for verification of the species. The capture itself excited a
deal of local interest. It was on a summer morning that one of my
brothers, enlivening his vacation studies, as was his custom, by
watching through his telescope anything of interest that might be going
on amongst the shipping or elsewhere, saw something like an enormous
fish struggling and “flopping” on the Beachley pier of the old Passage
Ferry. As a matter of course, we young folks set off after luncheon to
have our share of the sight, and found the creature had been captured
when lying helpless, or half dead, in the mud at the Aust side of the
Ferry, and had been towed across behind a boat. At this distance of time
I only remember the whale- or dolphin-like shape of the animal, its
great size, and that it was apparently of a greyish colour; but this
item might very likely be from its being coated with Severn mud. In
Bell’s “British Quadrupeds” the greatest length recorded of various
specimens found in England is 12 feet. The colour of the back is black,
with a purplish tinge, becoming dusky on the sides, and dirty white on
the belly. This species is considered rare in England and it is of some
interest, in referring to the locality of what may be called our own
capture, that “The first account which we have of its appearance on our
own shores is that of John Hunter,” and it was taken with its young one
“on the sea coast near Berkeley”; that is about two or three miles
higher up the left bank of the Severn than the Aust Cliffs. Another
specimen was found in the river Dart in Devonshire, and, it was stated,
“was killed with difficulty, the poor animal having suffered for four
hours the attacks of eight men armed with spears and two guns, and
assisted by dogs. When wounded it made a noise like the bellowing of a
bull.”[20] In the case of the Old Passage specimen the poor creature was
also most barbarously treated, chiefly by being attacked by the running
of hay forks, pitch forks, and the like, into its body, and I remember a
good deal of chopping with hatchets or axes, but it was quite quiet and,
it was to be hoped, was past feeling pain. Immense popular interest, of
course, was excited as to the precise nature of the unusual “take,” as
to whether it was a Leviathan, or possibly the kind of fish that
swallowed Jonah—but the affair ended by the creature being shipped off
to Bristol to be turned into a little money for the boatmen who secured
it, and no other cetacean was taken during the remainder of the years in
which Sedbury was my home.

The most observable of the seaweeds, which grew on the rocks or large
stones, more or less in the muddy salt water between tide levels at the
mouth of the Severn, were of the genus _Fucus_, which at one time was
much used in the making of kelp. The ornamental kinds always appeared to
me to be unaccountably absent. They were not to be expected to make this
place their habitat, but, still, their almost total absence in the
masses of drift matter left by the retiring tide struck me as curious.
In my most successful searches I do not remember ever being fortunate
enough to secure even a fragment of the lovely Oak-leaf, _Delesseria_,
with its bright, rosy-veined leaves from as much as 4 inches to 8 inches
in length placed along their cylindrical stem, or the Peacock seaweed,
_Padina pavonea_, with its concentric markings. Of Iceland Moss there
might be a battered morsel. The general composition of the driftage was
composed of little except what might be grown in the neighbourhood,
mixed with sugar cane or packing material thrown from the vessels. This,
however, seemed to me of some interest in connection with the set of the
currents. Here, however, I am out of my element, but as my brother Dr.
Ormerod employed me as a collector, I am not personally responsible.

The distinct varieties of soil, and also the geographical and the
geological surroundings of Sedbury, were unusually favourable to natural
history investigations, whether of fauna and flora of the present day,
or of fossil remains of saurians and shells. These were easily
accessible as they fell from the frontage of lias, or the narrow
horizontal strip in the cliffs (plate IX.) facing the Severn, well known
to the geologists as the “bone bed.” At the highest part the cliffs were
about 140 feet, calculating from medium tide level. There the face had
been quarried back for a supply of lias limestone, used in enlarging the
offices of the house, and in so doing had laid bare a fine bed of
so-called “Venus” shells. We used to find beautiful specimens of those
shells, irrespective of this extra fine deposit, and also of “patens,”
oysters of some kind, which we sought for unweariedly, hammer in hand.
The greatest matters of interest, however, were the saurian, or the fish
remains, of which we sometimes found a plentiful supply of specimens of
little value, and now and then some of considerable interest.

  PLATE XI.
  ROMAN POTTERY, FOUND IN SEDBURY PARK.
  _From a drawing by Miss E. A. Ormerod._
  (_p. 18._)
]

  SAURIAN FROM THE LIAS, SEDBURY CLIFFS.
  (_p. 41._)
]

The Sedbury cliffs lie nearly north of the Aust cliff, and contain the
Aust bone bed, from which the Severn, about a mile wide, or somewhat
more, there divides them. Geologically, in all important
characteristics, I believe the two cliffs correspond. Of this bone bed
it is noted by Sir Charles Lyell[21]: “In England the Lias is succeeded
by conformable strata of red and green marl or clay. There intervenes,
however, both in the neighbourhood of Exmouth, in Devonshire, and in the
cliffs of Westbury and Aust, in Gloucestershire, on the banks of the
Severn, a dark-coloured stratum, well known by the name of the ‘bone
bed.’ It abounds in the remains of saurians and fish, and was formerly
classed as the lowest bed of Lias; but Sir P. Egerton has shown that it
should be referred to as the Upper New Red Sandstone.” The reasons given
are not of interest to the general reader. From the fallen _débris_ of
this we collected vertebræ, single, or sometimes a few in connection,