were also working housekeepers. One whom I used to see sometimes lived
at Messrs. Wigg & Co.'s, in Rundle-street. She told me that she was
going to be married, and asked whether she should speak for me. It would
be nice for me and cheery, she said, but she did not think it would be
for very long, as the place was to be rebuilt. My path appeared to be
made plain, and I came and saw Mr. Wigg. He was satisfied, and I came to
live at No. 12, Rundle-street. I had a comfortable room over the shop.
None of the assistants lived there. I used to see to their meals during
the day. Also under the heading of Messrs. Wigg and Co. there was a
chemist's shop, with doctors' consulting-rooms, in King William-street,
where the Beehive now stands. The chemists had their meals at No. 12.
The evenings were lonely, but there were plenty of books, and I could
either go out or sit and look into Rundle-street. I knew the engagement
would be only temporary, but I had always faced my fate with courage,
and faced it still. But there seemed nothing to face at Mr. Wigg's.
Everyone was bright and pleasant. So I was content to bask in the
present enjoyment, and I had given up troubling about what was to me a
hopeless future. I had some shipmates at Government House, and went and
saw them sometimes, and I found that if I left Mr. Wigg's I could go
there. So I was happy, and what more could anyone desire?
While performing my new duties I wondered how things would turn out. For
some time I had a busy life, with no time for regrets. The meals were in
three relays. The first was at 12.30 p.m., and so on. There was only one
young lady among the assistants. The shop was full of men and youths,
who served the customers. How different Rundle-street looked then. There
were only little tumble-down shops, but prosperity reigned, and there
were no poor-looking people or naked-footed children.
A change has come now--a great change--that reaches to the core of
things. We think we can endure anything, but every day the little things
of life drive us nearly wild. Pleasures and trials seem both smaller
when we have to face them each day.
PRINCE ALFRED IN ADELAIDE.
There were no model schools in South Australia then. I do not know who
organised them, but the salesmen in Mr. Wigg's employ held classes for
reading and writing gratuitously in a building which seemed partly a
store, and was lit up with candles. The young gentlemen asked me if I
would come and help. They said I could at least listen to the small
girls reading. Having the evenings to myself I went gladly, and for a
time I had a little class all to myself, and I learned something from
the questions and answers that passed. The children all looked well-fed
and well-clothed, and I could not help comparing their condition with
that of the little ones receiving free teaching in Glasgow. Yet how the
people in Glasgow would fear to come away such a distance, for at that
time it was like dying to come to Australia. The people in the colony
then had to keep on working and thinking with their own powers. There
was not so much labor-saving machinery, and to succeed everyone had to
work to the best of his capacity, and the boys and girls, too, had to
help in making the most of their splendid inheritance.
One gets interested in the people with whom one is brought in contact,
even although temporarily. All was very real to me. I had been in the
happiest state of mind for months. Mrs. Wigg would come sometimes and
see if I wanted any comforts. She came with that good-natured sympathy,
and I looked forward to the days when the children would come with, her
when she was interesting herself with my department in such a kind way.
Just about that time the Governor, Sir Dominic Daly, died at Government
House. I do not remember whether a new Governor had been appointed, but
it seemed to me such a little time afterwards that Sir James Fergusson
arrived here. Then Prince Alfred was expected again, and the whole place
was in a stir once more. Sir James was a wealthy man, and he sent a
start of servants before him, so I thought it useless to think of the
Government House employment for me. How pleasant it was, therefore, to
be told I would be employed as an extra help between the kitchen and the
still-room. I saw the housekeeper, Miss Anderson, and I engaged to come
when they had all settled at Government House. In the meantime Mr. J. N.
Hines, from Parliament House, had charge of the catering with the two
caterers whom I did not like. If they had been there all the time I
would not have gone there. Sir James brought with him a French chef.
There has never since been such times at Government House. The house was
altered, and some new places were built.
In what grand style everything was kept up. The footmen, with their
powdered hair, knee breeches, and silk stockings, were a sight to see
when they went out in the beautiful carriage with the splendid horses,
and all were brought out from the old home. It was a lasting benefit to
me going there. I felt a little nervous amongst so many other servants,
for they looked a splendid lot of men and women, who did not think
service derogatory to them. They seemed happy and dignified, and went to
work accordingly. Each had his or her own work. They were not all from
the same country, but were different in tongue and manner as well. There
was no false pride, nor did they think that any kind of work in a house
was lowering, or that there was anything degrading in menial labor.
My task was to help in the still-room. I might make a slight allusion to
this still-room. It is a miniature "kitchen," where the housekeeper can
make all the preserves and so on. The housekeeper's room is always close
by, and there the linen and such like articles are kept. The still-room
at Government House was an important place then.
There were great preparations being made in view of the coming of the
Prince, who was expected to arrive at any time. Then such a lot of
things would have to be done in the still-room. Much of the fine cooking
for breakfast was done there, and the dessert dishes were garnished
there, and many of the ornamental biscuits and cakes for dessert were
made in the still-room. Sir James Fergusson had all his own household
silver and linen, as well as the dessert-stands. Some that seemed the
most important were twelve in number; they had to be taken to the butler
every night and locked up. Each one was in its own velvet casket, and
was carefully put away. They had been given to Sir James as a
presentation, and were said to be pure gold. One of the things I had to
do when they were in use was to see that they were in safety.
There was plenty of novelty in my surroundings at Government House. I
was sent here and there. The housekeeper became ill in the wearisome
days and nights, although there seemed nothing but pleasure to the
favorites of fate. They got some responsible-looking person to fill her
place, but she was not so clever as Miss Anderson. She was the wife of
one of the orderlies who was in attendance on Colonel Hamley. For we had
a regiment of soldiers here then, and Colonel Hamley was the commander.
There was a row of little cottages on the banks of the Torrens, where
they lived, but they have been all pulled down long ago.
I could not attempt to record each day and night at Government House.
The time flew by on golden wings. My ambition was to see to the cooking.
I was in the right place, for I had to go in the kitchen and help with
everything after the proper housekeeper left. I think Miss Anderson was
sent home again to Scotland. I grew interested in everything. I remember
now the two caterers, or cooks, came and asked me if I would ask the
French chef if he would let them see him dish up the beautiful
substances of his cooking. He seemed to work like magic. I asked him,
and he muttered something in French, while there was a look in his eyes
which said No.
Every detail of that time is stamped on my memory. I suppose what made
such, an impression was that I was, at any rate, where I had the chance
of seeing a professional cook work, while the secret of that knowledge
was not kept from me thus far. I remembered that the two cooks who came
to Sunnyside always had large cookery books with, them, and in their
exaltedness so acted that I could not get a glimpse of what they were
engaged in. As things now transpired, they could see that my new life
seemed to promise that eventually I would be able to give evidence that
I had gained knowledge in the period, when something could be made out
of my association with the French chef, and I felt glad that those two
cooks could only gaze in longing wonder where I was gathering
experience. Perhaps it gave me my revenge.
But I must tell something more about Government House and the Prince.
There was nothing but visitors; there were theatricals, with a real
stage fixed up in the ballroom, with balls, and evenings at home, and
garden parties, luncheons, and huntings. I grew interested in all that
happened about me; I was not hindered in any way when time allowed me to
have a look and see what was to be seen. How pleased I was to see Mrs.
Brind amongst some of the cast of characters who were going to play on
the stage. Truly, she looked well in her part. I took care to let her
know that I was there, and to ask her if I could do anything for her.
There were no professional actors, only "amateurs." It just seemed to me
as if everybody was acting.
The Prince had such a lot of other gentlemen with him, and amongst them
there was a Highlander, dressed in kilts, who played the bagpipes. He
used to play sometimes in the dining-room even while the dinner was in
progress. He stood behind the Prince's chair. Whenever I could get a
chance I liked to go and look in at the dining-room when the gas was
alight. They could not see me. I thought it so nice to see whether the
Prince ate his food in any way different from other people. He used to
sit at one end of the table, and Sir James at the other. For most of the
public functions Sir James wore his Court dress, as if in the presence
of the Queen at some festivities at home. He did not look a weak
amiability. How noble he was, I thought, and how his servants loved him.
And how lovely was Lady Edith Fergusson, and their beautiful children.
How nice they all were.
I remember that if I saw her ladyship coming I used to dart off in
another direction, and she told monsieur, the chef, to tell me not to do
so, as she liked to speak to us all when she met us. I did not try to
get out of her way afterwards. Such a strange custom the ladies all had.
It was to limp in their walk as if they were halting and lame. To get
that mode some had the heel of one shoe made shorter than that of the
other. It was called the "Alexandra limp." I could not help wondering at
this, and I learned that the Princess of Wales had a sore foot, and that
in the midst of all gaiety and glitter the society ladies all tried to
seem as if they had a sore foot.
Where the tall palm tree stands on the banks of the Torrens was the
vegetable garden for Government House. It was fenced all round with
hedge and wire, with a door in the wall, by which we got to and fro if
the gardener forgot to bring what was wanted. The door is still in the
wall, but the garden has gone. I have good reason to remember one time,
at least, when I was sent for something. It was dark, but I had a key
and a lantern, and was told to lock the door and take the key with me to
let myself in. I put the lantern down, as I did not require a light in
the garden. A key was available to others, as there were more keys than
one. While I was trying to open the door the Duke of Edinburgh came out.
He smiled at me, and I let the things fall and stared at him. He had no
attendant, but wore a soft felt hat. I stood and saw him pass out
amongst the populace just like one of themselves. He locked the door and
I unlocked it. I remember that as if it were only yesterday.
At the time there was a war in Paris, and monsieur used to get letters
that upset him fearfully. Some that were sent from his ruined home came
out of Paris in a balloon. I may add that the French chef was designated
as monsieur all through the house. He was a very young man to have such
a position, and he could not speak English at all well. I taught him
some Scotch words. He was lively, and would go on working sometimes till
midnight, but would not let me stay if he could help it.
The Prince and party went away inland somewhere for an outing. We had a
period of quiet, and I got a day off to go and see the Galatea. All the
kilted volunteers were going by special invitation, and in a kind way I
was not forgotten. They had Mr. Archie Dixon, with his bagpipes. It was
a nice day for an outing, and the whole ship was thrown open to us, and
a happy time was spent there. All was wonderfully clean and orderly. All
was explained to us, and we were told how the cannon and other
instruments of destruction were fired, with the force of the ball, and
the gunpowder, as well as what the sailors could do if they were
attacked. We saw the Prince's room, which was being done up ready for
the voyage home. One thing I noticed hanging up was a large portrait of
Prince Albert and the Queen. The only thing I saw to make me sad was
some men in chains made fast to the deck. They were white men. I can see
the look on their faces yet. They were there for some misdeed, but I did
hope that they would be released when they got out to sea. We went right
down to where the stokers worked to keep the engines in action. We
passed, I think, five decks to get there; I was glad to reach the top
again. Human hearts must be made of strong material, or else how could
those men live in chains, even for a day?
The time came when I felt sadness. After the Prince went away what a
change there was. Where life and merriment had reigned, amid the scene
of all the late festivities, there was now only silence. For in that
stately home Lady Ferguson was ill--seriously ill. She had not been
feeling well for some time, and it was rumored that Sir James would take
her back again to Scotland if she was strong enough to travel. She died
at Government House. I had left a week or so before.
I LEAVE GOVERNMENT HOUSE.
I was only an extra one for the busy time, but I was told that if a
vacancy should occur I would be sent for. Use, we are told, is second
nature. I grew quite used to looking down the advertising columns of the
newspaper, where I read, "Wanted, wanted, wanted." I saw one day a
notice that there was wanted by a lady at Glenelg a young woman, who
must have some knowledge of cooking and good references. The direction
was to apply to Mrs. Wright, at "The Olives," Glenelg. Years afterwards
I went back to Government House as housekeeper.
I received a reply to my application to Mrs. Wright, stating that my
reference proved satisfactory, and that she would be glad if I would
come as soon as I could. As far as I can remember I was glad again to be
near the sea. It was not exactly what I wanted; I was restless and
dissatisfied. I had decided to seek a situation with some lady who
travelled, as I would have liked to go back to Scotland again. But,
still this would be something to do. On arriving at Mrs. Wright's I
found one of my shipmates as housemaid. It was a large house, in
pleasant, well-kept grounds. I was taken to my room, on the second
floor. It was large and comfortable, with such a nice view from the
window. I was, at any rate, pleasantly housed.
Could I but live that time over again! Could I but close my mind to all,
all that has happened since! Did I say happened? All that has taken
place has been of my own doing. I felt very happy, for, as I now review
my past, I know that I took the first step in the narrow path when I
left the Olives! Delusion really came into my life, and I was wise only
after the event. I am alone now with my ruined life and my lost
happiness. The wearisome years creep by so slowly.
I used to travel to Adelaide to attend Mr. Lyall's church every second
Sunday. I do not know why I did not give the name of my first employer,
of No. 10, Rundle-street. I think it was in my mind then not to mention
any names in such reminiscences as that I wrote of mine. However, my
first employer's name was Mr. T. Ballantyne. He died long ago, but his
brothers are still in the land of the living I am happy to say. One of
the Mr. Ballantyne's used to come to the same church in Flinders-street,
with his wife and family. They were always friendly to me, and show
friendship even now, after all these years. When I first made
acquaintance with Mr. W. Ballantyne he was in his brother's shop at 38,
Rundle-street, where Mr. Birks is now. He used to come to No. 10
sometimes. His was a merry face, with an almost perpetual smile. I used
to like to see him come in. So when I met him at the church he always
wished to know how I was, and whether I was comfortable. So one Sunday,
when I came from the Bay, he asked me if I would not like to come and
live in Adelaide again. He said that where he lived they wanted some one
at the shop to get meals for the young people who worked there. I told
him that when I left Mrs. Wright's I would see him, but I had no
thoughts of leaving them. He must have made a mistake, for I received a
letter from Messrs. Robin & Birks, asking me to come to them, as they
understood that I was leaving Mrs. Wright's. I could not understand, so
I called and saw Mr. Robin.
How sweet is the memory of the innocent evenings I used to spend at
Glenelg. I told Mr. Robin that Mr. Ballantyne had not understood me
correctly, for I did not want to leave Mrs. Wright's. Mr. Ballantyne
then came on the scene and talked to me, and I promised to go to 38,
Rundle-street. When I got back to Glenelg I repented of what I had done,
and sent a letter to say that I thought I could not take such a
responsible position. Meanwhile they had made their own arrangements and
they sent me a letter, in which they indicated that if I did not keep my
agreement there would be trouble. A strange thought came in my mind. I
told Mrs. Wright that if she would keep the place for me that I would go
to Rundle-street and stop for a week or so till they could get someone
else. I was so afraid of anything in the way of law that I was easily
terrified. I only took a few things with me and reached the place at
night. There was a small yard at the back of the premises. I found my
way to the door, and as I put my hand on the knob an immense dog thrust
his cold nose against my fingers. I gave a scream, which brought out the
person whom I was to succeed. She was waiting for me to arrive. Then I
laughed. Ah, me! could I but have seen my future at that juncture!
It was quite early in the evening. The dear woman stopped with me all
night and enlightened me on all the subjects of interest. She wished to
constitute herself my guide and friend, and remarked that I was so young
for such a position. I learned to like the dear, kind soul, and to go
and see her. The next morning began the eventful day. Even at this
moment, when I look back, there rises before my mind a picture of that
period. There were only a few at breakfast, and that was soon over. Mr.
Ballantyne called to see if I had come. He told me I could have a room
over the shop, which looked into Rundle-street, and that anything that I
wanted would be attended to if I mentioned it to him. There were 28 or
30 persons for dinner and tea, and some of the men in charge slept on
the premises. I had their rooms to see to, so there was a lot of work,
but I was strong, and I had the evenings, while I had more wages than I
had with Mrs. Wright. I was old-fashioned enough to see to that; so I
became quite reconciled. There seemed a happiness about the place which
soothed me. I saw Mrs. Wright, and had the rest of my things sent to 38,
Rundle-street, and for a time, at least, I was happy.
The shop kept open then till 10 o'clock on Saturday night, when all had
supper. On Sunday sometimes there was no one there. So I had every
Sunday. Thus week by week, and month by month, I grew into a kind of
home life amongst the people. My thoughts of going back to Scotland had
passed away. There was no lack of kindness on the part of the firm or
any of the partners. I remember there was a gas stove sent out to the
old exhibition, to be exhibited. It was the first one to come in South
Australia. Mr. Birks bought it and had it fixed up for me at 38. It was
splendid and such a help.
And the good, old dog that made me start the first night I came there
would stretch his grand old self by the door. I felt content when he was
there. I often took him with me when I went out. His name was Lion and
he always seemed so pleased with the part he played. Such drollery was
caused by this dog's sport. He would upset somebody by colliding with
them. Perhaps a complaint would be made, and then you would hear his
owner say that he would give Lion a talking to. That made everyone
laugh. I never knew him to bite, but he was such a size. Sitting as I do
now, so lonely and miserable, how I wish Lion was at the door; I would
not feel the darkness so much.
Music and singing have always been a pleasure to me. It interested me at
favorable times when the young gentlemen who lived on the premises gave
a musical evening, with dancing as well. How I enjoyed myself. Life was
life to me then. There was a large room over the shop, and as in many
other business places the owners of the shops lived on the premises. I
was experienced enough to do a little catering for them, and, needless
to add, they set value on my efforts. I talk of the dear old times yet
when I see some of them.
We often get fond of people with whom we associate even temporarily in
this way. This happens in the everyday life, and some will influence us,
although we know not how. We cannot help thinking of them just a little.
So many different feelings one has to struggle against, one gets
attracted to a person sometime through gratitude, or it might be either
joy or grief felt in common. But if passion comes it leads to captivity,
and we cannot get out, even if we try.
In all that I have written so far there has not been one line about
love. I do not like to touch on my lost daydreams. I had a suitor in
Scotland, but did not take his attentions seriously, for while,
intellectually, he was above me, being such a splendid scholar, love did
not enter into my views at that time. But he used to come and give me
lessons in writing and I accepted him. But when it was resolved that I
should come to South Australia duty seemed to hold out strongly the
resolution that I must give my lover up. He implored me not to do so,
and wanted me not to come. He was manly and sincere enough in his love.
I told him my intention to come, and that he must wait seven years for
me, or come to South Australia after I had done what I wanted for my
relatives. And I gave my promise that I would be true. I wrote to him
all the time, and he also wrote to me till the year 1870. I had no
letters and felt forlorn. At this time I came in kindly touch with John
Allen at 38, Rundle-street. As we grew more friendly John Allen confided
to me his past and the lonely history of his life. He helped to redeem
the greyness of my life. I could not tell when it dawned upon me, but,
like other women, I was capable of loving, and the knowledge came. It
was pleasant to think I would share the ups and downs of life's
struggles with the man I loved, and who had aroused this feeling and won
my heart. It was the old, old story, and I managed to convince him that
I was not the least afraid of poverty. I told him of my engagement and
how it was ended. My heart had longed for practical sympathy, and it was
some happiness to think that John Allen and myself had much in common.
So far, I had not questioned my wisdom in thus allowing myself to be
carried away by my feelings, even although he was a few years younger
than I was. The thought came that, perhaps, I had been rather hasty as
matters stood, but when John Allen went and brought his mother's Bible
to show me that his father and mother were relatively of the same age as
we were, wisely or unwisely, I pledged myself to John Allen. Their names
and ages were written in the Bible.
Of course, I loved him. I have always loved him, and from that time to
this my mind has been filled with one individual--John Allen. It was
natural; we were in the same house of business. I did not try to get out
his way and he unmistakably did everything he could to get into my way.
We were together morning, noon, and night for more than two years. So I
resolved to cast in my lot with the man I loved. I looked to him. I did
not consider it necessary to consult my people. They had all done the
same, and did not hesitate or think of me. John Allen had no relations
with whom he was on friendly terms in South Australia. He seemed then as
if he thought only of me. I was very happy in a sense. There was a rest,
and yet an unrest. I knew that he had told me he would like to go to
England.