My governor, as was called the one who gave a boy his presentation, made
an attempt to have me kept in London, but I was still thought too young,
and I reached Hertford again, where I remained for perhaps another year;
but after the August holidays, I was established in the Newgate Street
school.
The Wallingers had settled at Seaford, in a house on the Crouch, to which
a good garden was attached, and in this my uncle plied the spade and grew
vegetables. It was a gentlemanly residence, standing high and overlooking
the sea.
At Seaford I spent my first holidays, and made a large acquaintance
there. It was the property of the Earl of Chichester and Mr. Ellis, and
it returned two members to the House of Commons at the dictation of its
owners. Mr. Canning once had the honour of representing, I cannot say the
borough, but the gentlemen to whom it belonged. During his proprietorship
Mr. Ellis was created Lord Seaford; he afterwards succeeded to the family
title of Howard de Walden.
A row of houses led from the beach up to the Crouch on the left side;
opposite to this was an open field. One of these houses Mr. Ellis kept as
his occasional residence. It was entirely in the French style, had a long
walled garden, and was very picturesque. The man cook of this gentleman
sometimes visited Seaford, and took up his abode in the family house,
bringing with him his hounds and horses.
A cousin of mine, Henry Shore, who was also in the school, passed the
August holidays at Seaford with our relations. His mother was the
youngest of the four Miss Gordons. She married into a very considerable
family, the Shores of Maresbrook Park, near Sheffield, an elder branch,
of which the younger was Shore of Tapton, who took the name, afterwards,
of Nightingale. He had two daughters, Florence and Penelope. The first of
these, as is well known, remained single; the second married Sir Harry
Verney.
It may be of interest to mention that these ladies took their names from
the country of their birth, the one being born at Florence, the other at
Athens.
This was my first opportunity of learning my aunt’s character, which
was a very singular one. It was necessary to her that she should be the
first person in her circle, wherever that lay. At Seaford she found no
difficulty. It was then an obscure town with a few good families in it,
among them the clergyman, the Reverend Mr. Carnegie and his wife; Mr.
Verral, the surgeon, a man of great talent and skill, with his wife and
children; and Captain Evans, the agent of the borough owners, whose
business it was to see that the taxes were paid up, or to pay them
himself, ready for an election, and never to press for rent. Then there
were gentlemen farmers in the neighbourhood, a peculiar class—men of
capital and education, devoted chiefly to the breeding of sheep. Every
one has heard of Southdown mutton; in those days it was in plenty. Ellman
of Glynde and Lord Chichester were great among its producers, and it
was never killed till it was six years old. No venison equalled it in
flavour, and, regrettable to say, it is now unknown in the market; if it
still exists in perfection, it may be at Stanmer Park and at Glynde.
The greatest of our aunt’s accomplishments was keeping house—of all else
she was ignorant in the extreme; but, by the aid of a small dictionary,
she kept the spelling of her letters pretty correct, and by tact she
concealed her ignorance of all human knowledge. She expected to be
looked up to by her neighbours, and she required this homage of her
relations, one and all. I and my cousin had to meet a heavy tax to retain
her favour. She would spoil our morning by sending us on errands to
her tradesmen, not in one round, but to one at a time, with a written
order, which held us on the trudge up to the time of luncheon. She made
us her _pensionnaires_, and she had the firm belief that she honoured
and delighted us in thus keeping us employed. Her remaining sister, Mrs.
Gwynne, lived at Denton, a village on the Newhaven side of the downs,
three miles off. The Rev. William Gwynne, the husband of this lady, was
the rector of the parish.
Mrs. Wallinger was very fond of this sister, who was a cautious and
sentimental flatterer, and witty beyond all common measure. She was
never at a loss for anecdotes of the most amusing kind. Her husband was
a stout, showy man, a good talker and a lover of wine, which did not
suffice him without a long double nightcap of brandy, gin, or rum. He and
Captain Wallinger adapted themselves admirably to each other, and the
two families met at each other’s table often.
There was a houseful of children at Denton Rectory, ending in five sons
and two daughters, brought up without a view to education, both boys and
girls. Notwithstanding this, one of the five sons became an Australian
judge, and another entered the Church, though at first an M.D. Mr. Gwynne
had a passion for shooting; he cared more for his dogs than for his own
cubs. He was, however, a kind man, with a manner that made him appear
interested in every one he met with.