(MRS. LAFFAN).
It is a lovely day in early springtime. A gentle south-west wind is just
stirring the meadows, and the young birds are chirping gaily in the
hedgerows which are beginning to put forth their tiny buds. All nature
seems awake and smiling; truly a fitting morn on which to visit
Stratford-on-Avon, the place so fraught with memories of the immortal
bard. You have been so fortunate as to make the long journey from London
in the company of the well-known and popular Captain Gerard, late of the
23rd Welsh Fusiliers, and as he has been for some years a resident in
these parts, he has given you the _carte du pays_ and much useful and
interesting information.
The town of Stratford-on-Avon is beautifully situated on the south-west
border of Warwickshire on a gentle eminence rising from the bank of the
Avon. As the train glides into the station, Mrs. Leith Adams is seen
standing on the platform. She has come to meet you, accompanied by many
dogs, who insist on jumping into the carriage as an escort home. On
leaving the station the road runs past the hospital, down the
wonderfully broad High-street of the town with its venerable houses
on either side, and as the beautiful old porch of the Guild Chapel (of
which Mr. Laffan is incumbent) comes into view, the pony turns down
Chapel-lane and draws up at the School House.
Entering the porch into the hall you face the Head Master's study on the
left, a charming room and evidently the haunt of a scholar. The next
room on the same floor has two French windows opening on to the garden.
In a nook by one of these windows Mrs. Leith Adams does her writing with
the shades of George Eliot looking down on her, and a fine photograph of
her youngest son now in Australia. Wandering about the grounds into
which these windows look are six beautiful peacocks, a comical cockatoo,
a seagull, so tame that it comes up when called, two white broken-haired
terriers, and a wise-looking pug. On the left stands a tree with
cocoanuts tied upon it, where countless blue-eyed tits congregate all
day long. The wide winding staircase leads up to the drawing-room, where
you find yourself among shades of olive green, and a roving glance is
caught by two magnificent old china jars, standing on either side of the
fire-place, once full of unguents belonging to the Knights of St. John
of Jerusalem, and found in the vaults under the palace at Malta. The
side window looks across the School gardens to the Memorial Theatre, a
fine domed building on the banks of the river, and the three windows in
the front look over New Place Gardens where lie the foundations of the
house where Shakespeare died, and where in 1643 Henrietta Maria, Queen
of Charles I., was hospitably received and entertained for three days by
Shakespeare's daughter.
It was as the wife of the late Surgeon-General A. Leith Adams, F.R.S.,
LL.D., M.D., that the author of "Aunt Hepsy's Foundling" (by which story
the name of Mrs. Leith Adams is best known to the public) entered on her
career as a novelist. Having been much struck during a visit to Scotland
by the character and personality of a venerable minister of the
Presbyterian Church, she resolved to attempt to make him the centrepiece
of a short story. Of this resolve the result was "Keane Malcombe's
Pupil," since republished under the title of "Mabel Meredith's Love
Story." Her first essay in fiction met with instant success. Without any
previous acquaintance with, or introduction to, the present Mr. Charles
Dickens, the author offered her MS. to _All the Year Round_. It was at
once accepted and published in the year 1876, from which time up to the
present Mrs. Leith Adams has been continuously a member of Mr. Dickens's
staff.
A more ambitious effort followed in the year 1877 when "Winstowe," her
first three-volume novel, was brought out. It bore marks of great
inexperience, but had a certain limited sale in England and a wider one
in America. In the following year "Madelon Lemoine" was issued, a book
which has made its way steadily among a section of the community, and is
looked upon by many critics as the foremost among the author's earlier
works; but it was not until the publication of "Aunt Hepsy's Foundling"
that her name came prominently before the public. A remarkable notice in
a leading journal resulted in a second edition being promptly called
for. This has been followed by two other editions, each in one volume,
also one in America and one in Germany. In writing this book Mrs. Leith
Adams was inspired by the recollections of life in New Brunswick, in
which country she had spent nearly five years with her husband's
regiment--the 1st Battalion "Cheshire." The novelty of the scene and the
freshness of its treatment secured for the work a prompt success, and it
was spoken of by a weekly review as "an almost perfect novel of its
kind."
The author has enjoyed very exceptional advantages as preparation for a
literary career. Married at an early age, when the impression of a
girl's life are peculiarly vivid, she was but six months in Ireland with
the "Cheshire" when that regiment was ordered on foreign service. Her
presentation at the Irish Vice-Regal Court, over which the scholarly
Lord Carlisle then held sway, the brilliant festivities at the Castle,
_reunions_ at the house of Sir Henry and Lady Marsh, where she met all
the men of letters in Dublin, the happy _camaraderie_ of regimental
life; all these things, so new to her, passed like a flash, and were
exchanged for the troopship, and ultimately for lands and societies
strangely differing the one from the other.
The sunshine, orange groves, and military pomp and glitter of life in
Malta were succeeded by the sound of the sleigh bells over the snow, the
wonders of the sudden springtime, and the gorgeous "fall" of New
Brunswick, and, after nine years' wandering, the beautiful coast scenery
of Guernsey; then once again the delights of soldiering in Ireland, this
time in the South, where the lovely climate, devoted friends, and the
charm of being near home once more, have, as your hostess expresses it,
"all made the memories of those days most dear to me."
Mrs. Leith Adams did not begin to write whilst still a very young woman.
She says of herself that although the idea may have been in her mind,
she wished to wait until she had great stores of experience and
observation upon which to draw. Some of these experiences have been of
an intense and exceptional character. During the great cholera epidemic
which visited the island of Malta in 1866--after sending home to England
her only little child for safety--she devoted herself to the care of the
sick and dying in her husband's regiment, in company with a band of
soldiers' wives, who gladly and fearlessly gave themselves to the good
work. Many of her experiences during this awful time are to be found in
the pages of "Madelon Lemoine," but in one instance (not there alluded
to) it may be said that Mrs. Leith Adams ran extraordinary and perilous
risk, such as rendered her entire immunity from harm little short of
miraculous, whilst she also had the satisfaction of seeing the woman
whom she was attending gradually recover from the fell disease that so
seldom spares the victim that it has once attacked.
After twenty-five years' service with the old regiment, Dr. Leith Adams
obtained a Staff appointment connected with the recruiting department at
the Horse Guards, and this brought himself and his wife to London, where
they continued to reside for some years.
It was during this period that her literary career began. At the time
of her husband's death she was under an agreement to supply a serial
story to a leading magazine, in fact she had one, and only one, chapter
written towards that weekly instalment of "copy" necessary during such a
process, "but," she says, "I shall ever remember with the deepest
gratitude, the prompt generosity with which the editor, on hearing of my
bereavement and of my subsequent illness, made arrangements to give me
time." As soon as she was able to resume her pen, Mrs. Leith Adams
completed and published "Geoffrey Stirling," first in the pages of _All
The Year Round_, and then in three-volume form. This story has had its
share of popularity, and a "picture-board" edition of it has been issued
lately.
"Amongst the many other advantages I enjoyed," she remarks, "I rank by
no means least the society of the many eminent and scientific men that
my husband's tastes and attainments opened to me. I can look back upon
gatherings round the hospitable board of Sir Joseph and Lady Hooker at
the Royal Society Gardens, which included such men as the late William
Spottiswoode, P.R.S., Professor Huxley, Professor Flower, and of foreign
_savans_ not a few, occasions on which I would gladly have found myself
possessed of not two ears alone, but twenty, and when to listen to the
conversation of the charmed circle was indeed a liberal education. At
the _soirees_ of the Royal Society I used to delight in meeting all the
talent of this and many another country, and I hold the very strongest
opinions as to the unspeakable advantage that it is to a woman to listen
to highly gifted and deeply learned men discussing questions and
knowledge of the greatest and most vital importance."
In the autumn of 1883, Mrs. Leith Adams married, _en secondes noces_,
the Rev. R. S. de Courcy Laffan, M.A., eldest son of the late
Lieut.-General Sir Robert Michael Laffan, K.C.M.G., R.E., Governor of
the Bermudas. Mr. Laffan is head-master of King Edward VI. School at
Stratford-on-Avon, the school at which Shakespeare received his early
education. He is a refined scholar, a most able preacher, and on his
staff are men of high university degrees and much culture, so that, as
Mrs. Laffan, the author's lines are still cast among intellectual
surroundings.
She has thrown herself into the interests of school-life as earnestly as
she did into that of a regiment, and of social life in London, and
amidst all the claims of her literary work contrives to find time to
give the most minute care to the health, comfort, and happiness of the
boys under her husband's roof. It is impossible to see her in their
midst, whether they be tall striplings preparing to become defenders of
their country or little fellows in sailor suits just introduced to the
surroundings of school, with its pleasures and its trials, without
recognising, as they cluster about her in their own sitting-rooms, or in
her drawing-room, that she has completely won their hearts and that her
influence among them is one of the factors in the rapidly increasing
success of the school. At the annual speech day, Mrs. Laffan personally
designs all the costumes of the play, Shakesperean or otherwise, and on
the last occasion of this kind wrote the play for the junior boys and
composed the music incidental to it.
One of the later novels by Mrs. Leith Adams (who prefers to retain her
former name in her literary capacity) is "Louis Draycott," in which the
reader will find many traces of the influence of school life, and the
study of the characteristics of boys. "No one but a woman could have
filled in these tiny canvases," remarked a critic; "nor are evidences
wanting of her being surrounded by the classic traditions of
Stratford-on-Avon. Thoroughly imbued with Shakespeare, she has
judiciously, to a certain extent allowed him to influence her diction,
but never obtrusively."
It is only natural that the author should miss in her country home the
literary, musical, and artistic society of London, where she has so many
friends, but she has made acquaintances too in Warwickshire, where she
has the privilege of meeting men and women eminent in the world of
letters. Stratford-on-Avon is of itself a shrine to which so many
distinguished pilgrims, especially Americans, are drawn, that charming,
unexpected meetings often take place and friendships are cemented when
she takes her many visitors to see the interesting places in the town.
"Bonnie Kate, A Story from a Woman's Point of View," was the writer's
next work. It had a successful career, and was followed by "A Garrison
Romance," wherein military reminiscences figure largely and many
characters are sketched from life. A story in the same line, entitled
"Colour-Sergeant No. 1 Company," is shortly to appear, also a novel in
three volumes called "The Peyton Romance." A late small volume, "The
Cruise of the Tomahawk," was written by Mrs. Leith Adams in
collaboration with her husband and a friend; the poems with which it is
interspersed and the small illustrations are from the pen of Mr. Laffan.
At the Church Congress held at Cardiff in 1889 she read a paper upon
"Fiction viewed in relation to Christianity," and she says that she has
some intention of giving a lecture during the present year on the
subject of "Literature as a Profession for Women."
As regards her mode of work, she remarks: "The plots which I find the
easiest to work out are those which have been thought over the longest:
the word 'long' here stands for a great deal. The plot and characters of
'Bonnie Kate' have been under consideration, and the subject of the
accumulation of constant notes for the last eight years, dating from a
visit to a Yorkshire farmstead for the express purpose of obtaining the
colouring and atmosphere necessary to the delineation of 'Low Cross
Farm.'"
Of Mrs. Leith Adams' minor works, it may be said that "My Land of
Beulah" has had a quite exceptional popularity, and "Cosmo Gordon," with
its delightful self-made man, Mr. Japp, has had its full share of
admirers. "Mathilde's Love Story," published two years ago in the spring
number of _All The Year Round_, is a memory of Guernsey, and "Georgie's
Wooer" is a reminiscence of life in the South of Ireland.
Mrs. Leith Adams is an ardent musician and accomplished pianist, and as
there are several good violinists among the masters and boys of
Shakespeare's School, concerted music is often the order of the day,
more especially at her Thursday afternoon "at homes."
There is a long gap between the publication of "Geoffrey Stirling" and
that of "Louis Draycott," but various causes combined to make this so.
Further very heavy bereavements, variable health, anxiety as to the
health of her son (Mr. Francis Lauderdale Adams, now well known as poet
and journalist in Australia), the necessity for his leaving England, the
same long anxiety with the same results in the case of her younger
son--a most promising boy, whose health broke down just when his
prospects seemed brightest: all these causes militated for some years
against continuous mental effort. The pen is now, however, once more
resumed, and no doubt a group of what may be called "later novels" will
be the result. In addition to the high value she places upon long
consideration of a projected novel, Mrs. Leith Adams holds that to write
well, you must read well. She is convinced that the style and tone of
what people read thoughtfully, sensibly affects their own diction. "I
am," she observes, "a devoted admirer of Mrs. Carlyle, and have read
again and again those thrilling letters in which all a woman's innermost
life and sorrows, and heart story are laid bare. I am of opinion that
had Jane Welsh Carlyle seen fit to make literature a profession, that
she would have taken rank second only to that apostle of female culture
and ambitions, George Eliot. Shakespeare, Browning, Tennyson, and all
biographies of great men, are the reading that I love best. Carlyle
himself only comes second to his wife in my estimation, and at the feet
of Charles Dickens I worshipped in my girlhood. (This influence is
distinctly traceable in much of her work.) Mrs. Gaskell, Miss Austen,
Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre,' and many of Miss Broughton's works,
George Meredith, Baring Gould, and, above all, George Eliot--these among
English fiction are my favourites, whilst in French, Dumas' _Chevalier
de la Maison Rouge_, and many of Octave Feuillet's are my companions. If
I like a book I read it again and again; if I like a play I go to see it
again and again. It is like learning to know more and more of one whom
you love."
Like most writers, Mrs. Leith Adams has had some strange and funny
experiences in letters from people unknown and never to be known, and in
the calm impertinences--probably not intended--of people absolutely
ignorant of literary knowledge, as for instance when a peculiarly
_banale_ woman remarked to her, "I'm sure I could write novels quite as
well as you _if I were not so weak in the wrist_," which was assuredly
locating the mental faculties rather low down; and another, a perfect
stranger, who called upon her in London and said with startling candour,
"I want to make some money, I'm going to write a novel. _How do you
begin?_"
Later on, a visit to the schools is suggested, and, escorted by your
hosts, you make a tour round these interesting premises. The schools,
the chapel, and the vicarage house form three sides of a quaint
old-world quadrangle, in which it is easy to forget for a moment the
nineteenth century, and to dream oneself back into the middle ages. The
Guild Chapel, one of the most interesting buildings in Stratford, was
founded by the brethren of the Guild of the Holy Cross. The chancel
dates from the thirteenth century, but the nave is of more recent
construction. The next building bears an inscription, "King Edward VI.
School," though its real founder was Thomas Jolyffe, one of the priests
of the Guild, who built the Old Latin Schoolroom in 1482. The
unpretending exterior scarcely prepares you for the quaint beauty of the
interior. On entering you find yourself in a long panelled room, which
is the Old Guild Hall, where the Earl of Worcester's players gave their
representations in Shakespeare's day. On the same floor is a class room
called the Armoury with Jacobean panelling, and a fresco of the arms of
the Kings of England. A narrow staircase leads to a little room on the
left, where a few years ago several 16th century MSS. were discovered.
Then comes the Council Chamber with its splendid oak roof and Jacobean
table, and on the wall there are two curious frescoes of roses painted
in 1485 to commemorate the termination for ever of the terrible wars of
the Roses. Next to it is the Mathematical Room, but it is on leaving
that, and entering the Old Latin Room, that you feel impressed with the
great antiquity and beauty of the building. The roof is one of the
finest specimens of the open roof in the country. It was in this and the
adjoining room that the poet received his education, and from it the
desk which tradition assigns to him was taken. It now stands in the
museum at the birthplace, which place you are duly taken to visit and
also the Church of Holy Trinity, where at the entrance to the altar, on
a slab covering the ashes of the poet, is an inscription written by
himself, together with his bust painted into a strict likeness, even to
the complexion, the colour of the hair and eyes, and you leave all these
interesting relics with a strong conviction that no better cicerone
could be found than Mr. and Mrs. Laffan to do the honours of the ancient
and historic buildings of Shakespeare's School and the "sacred places of
Stratford-on-Avon"--
"Where sleep the illustrious dead, where lies the dust
Of him whose fame immortal liveth still
And will live evermore."
[Illustration: Jean Ingleow]