then nearly nine years old, such a savage. She had not yet been taught
to write, but she used to read the “Arabian Nights,” “Robinson Crusoe,”
and the “Pilgrim’s Progress.” He was horrified too at her strong Scotch
accent, and made her read aloud to him that he might correct it. This
she found a great trial, but she delighted in helping her father in the
care of his garden, to which he was devoted. He at last felt that
something more must be done to educate her, and said to her mother:
“Mary must at least know how to write and keep accounts.” So at ten
years old she was sent to a boarding school. The change from her wild,
free life made her wretched, and she spent her days in tears. They were
very particular in those days that a girl’s figure should be straight,
and used strange means to ensure this. Mary was perfectly straight and
well-made, but she was enclosed in stiff stays with a steel busk; bands
were fastened over her frock to make her shoulder-blades meet at the
back, and a sort of steel collar was put under her chin, supported on a
rod which was fastened to the busk in her stays. Under these
uncomfortable conditions, she and the other girls of her age had to do
their lessons. These lessons were far from interesting. The chief thing
she had to do was to learn by heart a page of Johnson’s Dictionary, so
as to be able, not only to spell all the words and give their meaning,
but to repeat the page quickly. She also learnt to write, and was taught
a little French and English grammar.
A year at this school was supposed to finish her education, and it is
not surprising that when she got home again at the age of eleven she
could not write a tidy letter. She was reproached with not having
profited better by the money spent on keeping her at an expensive
school; her mother said that she would have been content had she only
learnt to write well and to keep accounts, as that was all a woman was
expected to know. Mary was delighted to be free again, and felt like a
wild animal escaped out of a cage. She spent hours on the seashore
studying the shells and the stones, and watching the crabs and
jelly-fish. When bad weather kept her indoors, she read every book she
could find, and especially delighted in Shakespeare, but an aunt who
visited them found fault with her mother for letting her spend so much
time in reading, and she was sent to the village school to learn plain
sewing. She soon made a fine linen shirt for her brother so well that
she was taken away from school and given the charge of all the house
linen, which she had to make and to mend. But she was vexed that people
should find fault with her reading, and thought it unjust that women
should have been given a desire for knowledge, if it were wrong for them
to acquire it. Every opportunity for study was used by her, and when a
cousin lent her a French book, she set to work, with the help of a
dictionary and the little grammar she had learnt at school, to make out
the sense of it. There were two small globes in the house, and her
mother allowed the village schoolmaster to come during a few weeks in
the winter evenings to teach her how to use them. She loved to watch the
stars from her bedroom window, and to find out their names on the
celestial globe.
When Mary was thirteen, her mother spent a winter in Edinburgh, and then
at last Mary went to a school where she learnt a little arithmetic and
to write properly. An uncle gave her a piano, and she had lessons in
playing it. When they got back to Burntisland she used to spend four or
five hours daily at her piano. She also began to teach herself Latin,
but did not dare to tell this to any one till she went to stay with an
uncle who was very kind to her. She told him what she was doing, and he
encouraged her by telling her about learned women in the past, and what
was more, read Virgil with her in his study every morning for an hour or
two. Whilst staying with another uncle in Edinburgh, she attended a
dancing school, and learnt to dance minuets and reels. Party politics
were violent in those days, and Mary’s father and uncle were strong
Tories. She heard such bitter abuse of the Liberals that her sense of
justice was revolted, and she adopted Liberal opinions, which she stuck
to all her life.
Mary Fairfax was probably about fifteen when one day a friend showed her
a monthly magazine containing coloured pictures of ladies’ dresses and
puzzles. She was surprised to see strange lines mixed up with letters in
the puzzles in a way that she could not understand, and asked her friend
what they were. She was told that they were a kind of arithmetic called
algebra, but her friend could not tell her what algebra was. On going
home she looked amongst the family books to see if there was one which
would explain algebra. She could only find one about navigation, which
she studied, though she could but dimly understand it. She had no one of
whom she could ask questions, and knew that she would only be laughed at
if she spoke of her desire for knowledge, so that she often felt sad and
forlorn. But she managed to teach herself enough Greek to read Xenophon
and Herodotus. The next winter she spent in Edinburgh again and was sent
to a drawing school, and got on well with drawing; but it was not till
the following summer, when her youngest brother was studying with a
tutor, that she ventured to ask the tutor to get her books about algebra
and Euclid, and she was able to begin the studies which were to make her
famous as a mathematician. She worked very hard, for she had many
household duties to perform, and to spend much time on music and
painting, which were the only studies of which her mother approved. She
could only study mathematics by sitting up late at night, and burnt so
many candles that the servants complained to her mother, and her candle
was ordered to be taken away when she went to bed. Then she used to keep
up her studies by going over in the dark what she had already learnt.
By this time Mary was grown up, and was a remarkably pretty girl, very
small and delicate-looking. She began to go out to parties in Edinburgh,
which she much enjoyed, and where she was much admired; but all the time
she never lost sight of what she felt to be the main object of her life,
the pursuit of her studies. She painted at the art school, she practised
her piano for five hours every day, she made all her own dresses, even
her ball dresses, she spent her evenings working and talking with her
mother. To get time for her other studies, she used to rise at daybreak,
and, after dressing, wrapt herself in a blanket to keep warm, and read
algebra or classics till breakfast time. So amidst difficulties of all
kinds she struggled on with her studies; no one, except her uncle Dr.
Somerville, ever gave her any help or encouragement.
When she was twenty-four, Mary Fairfax married her cousin, Samuel Grieg,
and went to live in London. Her husband was out at his work all day and
she had plenty of time for her studies. But though he did not interfere
with what she did, he gave her no help or encouragement. He knew nothing
of science himself, and did not believe that women were capable of
intellectual work. She struggled on as best she could and took lessons
in French so as to learn to speak it. After three years her husband
died, leaving her with two little boys, one of whom did not live to grow
up. Mary went back to live with her parents; she cared for her children
with the utmost tenderness, but she still devoted herself to her
mathematical studies, and she was able to get advice and help from a
professor in Edinburgh. To get time to study she still rose early, for
during most of the day she was busy with her children, and the evening
she devoted to her father. People thought her queer and foolish, because
she did not go into society; but she did not care for their criticisms,
and made real progress in her studies.
She had several proposals of marriage, but refused them all till, in
1812, she agreed to marry her cousin, Dr. William Somerville, son of the
uncle who had been the only person to help her in her studies when she
was a girl. When her engagement was known, one of Dr. Somerville’s
sisters, who was younger than herself and unmarried, wrote to her saying
she “hoped she would give up her foolish manner of life and studies and
make a respectable and useful wife to her brother.” This made Dr.
Somerville very indignant, and he wrote a severe and angry letter to his
sister. After this none of his family dared to interfere with his wife
again. His father was delighted with his choice, for he understood and
loved his niece. Some of the family were much astonished, when in the
summer after the marriage they were staying together in the lakes, and
one of them fell ill and expressed a wish for currant jelly, to find
that Mrs. Somerville, in spite of her learning, was able at once to make
some excellent jelly.
The marriage was an absolutely happy one. Dr. Somerville loved and
admired his wife and was very proud of her learning. For the first time
she had encouragement to pursue her studies instead of having obstacles
thrown in her way. At first they lived in Edinburgh, but, in 1816, Dr.
Somerville received an appointment in London, and they moved there and
settled in Hanover Square. Many friends gathered round them, and Mrs.
Somerville enjoyed intercourse with other learned people, especially
with Sir William Herschel, the great astronomer. She not only went on
with her scientific studies, but she took lessons in painting. She and
her husband enjoyed making together a collection of minerals. They added
to it on their travels in France and Italy, which were an immense
delight to her. Several children were born to Mrs. Somerville, but only
one son of her first marriage and two daughters of her second marriage
lived to grow up. She was a devoted mother, and gave much time to the
care of her children. She gave her morning hours to domestic duties, and
was determined that her daughters should not suffer as she had done from
want of a good education. She taught them herself all the subjects she
was able to teach, giving three hours to their lessons every morning.
Her house was carefully managed, and she used to read the newspapers
diligently as she was keenly interested in politics; she read, too, all
the most important new books on all kinds of subjects. Science was her
special study, but she loved poetry and read all the great authors in
Latin and Greek as well as in French and Italian. She was very fond of
music and devoted to painting, and was very clever and neat with her
needle, and she also enjoyed society very much. Miss Edgeworth, the
novelist, after meeting her in 1822, described her as small and slight,
with smiling eyes and a charming face, quiet and modest in her ways,
with a very soft voice and a pleasant Scotch accent. She said of her:
“While her head is among the stars her feet are firm upon the earth.”
Mrs. Somerville never herself introduced learned subjects into general
talk, but when others did she spoke of them simply, and naturally
without assuming any superior knowledge. Yet, of course, other learned
people soon found out how much she knew. When she was in Edinburgh, she
had written, at the request of the editor, a learned article on comets
for the _Quarterly Review_, but she had no idea of writing any book
till, in 1827, a letter came from Lord Brougham to Dr. Somerville asking
whether Mrs. Somerville would write, for a series he was interested in,
a book on a very important French work about the stars written by the
famous astronomer, La Place. Mrs. Somerville had met La Place in Paris;
he had said of her that she was the only woman who could understand his
works, and Lord Brougham wrote that she was the only person who could
write the book he wanted, and if she would not write it, it must be left
undone. Mrs. Somerville writes herself that she was surprised beyond
expression by this letter. She thought Lord Brougham must be mistaken as
to her powers, and that it would be very presumptuous in her “to attempt
to write on such a subject or indeed on any other.” However, Lord
Brougham called in person to press his request, and at last she agreed,
on condition that no one should know what she was trying to do, and that
if she failed the manuscript should be put into the fire.
She had now to try to make time for more work in her busy life. This she
did by getting up earlier to see to her household duties, but she was
much disturbed by interruptions. People did not think that a woman was
like a man and could have any real work to do. Frequently friends or
relations would arrive when she was in the midst of a difficult problem
and say, “I have come to spend a few hours with you.” She had no other
room to work in but the drawing-room, and as soon as the bell warned her
of a visitor, she used to cover up her books and papers with a piece of
muslin so that no one should know what she was doing. She learnt by
habit to put up with interruptions, and to go back at once when alone
again, to the point where she had left off. She did her work in the same
room where her children prepared their lessons after she had taught
them, and she was never impatient when they brought their little
difficulties to her, but answered them quickly and quietly and went back
to her own work. She could so abstract her mind that even talking or
practising on the piano did not disturb her.
When the book was finished and sent to be looked at, Mrs. Somerville
felt very nervous as to what might be thought of it. It made her very
happy and proud when the great astronomer, Sir John Herschel, wrote to
say that he had read it with the highest admiration, and added: “Go on
thus and you will leave a memorial of no common kind to posterity; and,
what you will value far more than fame, you will have accomplished a
most useful work.” Her book was received with immense praise. The
scientific societies hastened to show her honour; her bust was ordered
to be executed by the great sculptor, Chantrey, and placed in the hall
of the Royal Society of London, and at the prime minister’s request, the
king granted her a pension of £200 a year. The relations who had found
fault with her ways were now astonished at her success, and were loud in
her praise; but most of all she valued the deep delight of her husband,
who had always encouraged her, and whose pride in her knew no bounds.
After this success other scientific books were written by Mrs.
Somerville. Much of her work was done in Italy, where they went on
account of Dr. Somerville’s health. In Rome, as in London, Mrs.
Somerville never allowed anything to interfere with her morning’s work,
but in the afternoon she enjoyed keenly going about to see the wonderful
sights of the city or making excursions into the country. She wrote to
her son in 1841 that she had undertaken a book more fit for the
combination of a society than for a single hand to accomplish. This was
her book on Physical Geography, with which she was at first so
dissatisfied that she wished to burn it. But her husband begged her to
send it to Sir John Herschel, who advised that it should be published,
and it went through six editions.
In 1860, Mrs. Somerville had the great sorrow of losing her husband, who
died in Florence at the age of eighty-nine. One who knew them well and
had only lately seen them together, spoke of them as giving the most
beautiful instance of united old age. Mrs. Somerville continued to live
in Italy with her two daughters, first in Spezzia and afterwards in
Naples. To the last she worked on, writing a new book, bringing out new
editions of her old books, and working at them so as to include in them
the latest scientific discoveries. She used to study in bed every day
from eight in the morning till twelve or one o’clock. A little bird, a
mountain sparrow, was her constant companion for eight years and would
sit and even go to sleep on her arm whilst she wrote. It was a real
sorrow when one day it disappeared and was found drowned in a water jug.
She still painted, and enjoyed sketching the beautiful view that could
be seen from her windows.
[Illustration: SOMERVILLE COLLEGE, OXFORD.]
In 1869 there was an agitation in England to gain for women the right to
vote in Parliamentary elections. Mrs. Somerville thought decidedly that
women ought to have the vote and signed petitions for it, and she felt
it to be an honour to be put on the General Committee for Woman Suffrage
in London. She thought that in many ways the laws were unjust to women,
and also that there was still a strong prejudice against the higher
education of women. She was much interested in all that was being done
in England to improve girls’ education, remembering well her own
difficulties as a girl, and heard with much delight of the establishment
of the women’s colleges at Cambridge. After her death one of the first
women’s colleges at Oxford was named after her, Somerville College. In
1868 she was much interested in a tremendous eruption of Mount Vesuvius,
the volcano which she could see from her windows on the other side of
the bay of Naples. Day after day she watched with a telescope the
glowing streams of lava and the flame and smoke which burst from the
mountain, carrying with it great rocks into the air. It was a great
pleasure to her to see some distinguished men of science, who came from
England to see the eruption, and who spent an evening with her, during
which she enjoyed much scientific conversation.
Mrs. Somerville lived to a great old age. When she was ninety her
eyesight and the powers of her mind were still perfectly good. She still
studied science and the higher mathematics in the early morning hours,
afterwards she would read Shakespeare or Dante, or Homer in the
original. She regularly read the newspapers, and enjoyed a cheerful
novel in the evening, or a game of bezique with her daughters. It was
for her a constant joy to watch the sunsets over the bay of Naples: the
flowers or seaweeds which her daughters brought in from their walks, or
the tame birds she had in her room, were always a delight. She had ever
been deeply religious, and everything in nature spoke to her of the
great God who had created all things, whilst the laws which were
revealed to her in her scientific studies gave her ever new cause to
love and adore her heavenly Father. Friends from England and Italy came
often to see her, for she was much beloved. Her only infirmity was that
she was very deaf; but no one, young or old, thought it a hardship to
sit by the little, sweet, frail old lady and tell her about the things
that were going on in the world outside in which she still took so keen
an interest. Even when she was ninety-two she would drive out sometimes
for several hours. She often forgot recent events and the names of
people, but she wrote herself at the age of ninety-two: “I am still able
to read books on the higher algebra for four or five hours in the
morning, and even to solve the problems. Sometimes I find them
difficult, but my old obstinacy remains, for if I do not succeed to-day
I attack them again on the morrow. I also enjoy reading about all the
new discoveries and theories in the scientific world and in all branches
of science.” She thought much of the last journey that lay before her,
but wrote that it did not disturb her tranquillity, for though deeply
sensible of her utter unworthiness, she trusted in the infinite mercy of
her Almighty Creator. Tended by the loving care of her daughters, she
was perfectly happy. Her beautiful life ended in perfect peace and her
pure spirit passed away so gently that those around her scarcely
perceived that she had left them. She died in her sleep one morning at
the age of ninety-two.
VIII
JULIA SELINA INGLIS
THERE were many brave Englishwomen in India during the terrible days of
the Indian mutiny, many as brave as Mrs. Inglis, but we are able to know
what she went through at the time, because of the diary which she kept
and in which she wrote down what happened day after day, and in reading
about her adventures we can imagine something of what others suffered.
She was the daughter of a great lawyer, who became Lord Chancellor and
the first Lord Chelmsford, and when she was twenty-eight she married
Colonel Inglis, a brave soldier, and went out with him to India. Six
years afterwards the mutiny broke out, caused by the discontent of the
native troops, who turned upon their English officers. Lucknow was in
the heart of the most disaffected district. Lieutenant-Colonel Inglis
had gone there with his regiment, the 32nd, in January 1857; his wife
and their three little boys were with him, and they lived together in a
pleasant little bungalow. Sir Henry Lawrence was the Commissioner, as
the governor of a district of India was called. He was very anxious
about the state of affairs, and as the months passed and news came to
Lucknow of the outbreak of the mutiny in other parts, he daily expected
that the native troops in Lucknow would mutiny also. On the 16th May
they heard that the great city of Delhi was in the hands of the
mutineers. Then Sir Henry Lawrence ordered that the wives and children
of the officers at Lucknow should leave their own houses and come into
the Residency, the place in the centre of the city where the
Commissioner lived, and near which the troops were quartered. This he
thought he could defend against the natives if they should mutiny. He
invited the ladies belonging to the 32nd regiment to stay in his house
that they might be near their husbands.