You want to know where they obtained the money in order to lend it?
Well, from all those who had money to deposit—the merchants, the widows
and orphans whose small incomes were derived from money lodged with the
bankers; these all received a small interest from the goldsmiths, who
lent their money again at a much larger interest; so you can see that
when the king refused to pay, it was not possible either to return the
principal or pay the interest to those of whom they had borrowed. Great
was the distress, therefore, not only among the merchants, but among
all who had lodged their money with the goldsmiths. The voice of the
people grew so loud and angry, that at length Charles found himself
compelled to pay the interest, though he never paid back the capital.
In 1625 King Charles sent the Duke of Buckingham to Holland to borrow
£300,000 on the pledge of the Crown jewels.
You can see by what I have told you how difficult it was for the people
to find secure places wherein to deposit their money, and how ruinous
was the interest demanded if, on the other hand, they desired to
borrow. Great, indeed, was the need of some establishment capable of
advancing money at a reasonable rate on the security of Parliamentary
grants. One or two private bankers of high repute strove to improve
matters. Especially may I mention Child and Hoare. To the former by
common consent belongs the celebrity of having the first banking house,
which was established in 1620 on the site of the present building;
and I am proud to bear testimony to the fact that from that year to
the present day, all through the troublous times of banking, it has
maintained the high position and respectability in which Mr. Francis
Child left it.[2] Hoare’s bank was established in 1680.
These men did something towards steadying the money market; but it was
left to me to clear the country of the insecurity and rapacity which
had so long obtained.
Before proceeding with my personal history, I should like to explain
a certain method of keeping accounts before I came into power, which
accounts I strictly paid up as they fell due. It was known by the name
of _tallies_,[3] or _tally_.
“The word ‘tallies’ is derived from the French, and signifies cutting.
The tallies were pieces of wood cut in a peculiar manner to correspond
or tally. For example, a stick of hazel or some other wood, well dried
and seasoned, was cut square and uniform at each end. The sum of money
which it bore was cut in notches (a notch signifying so much, according
to the size) in the wood by the cutter of the tallies, and likewise
written upon two sides of it by the writer of the tallies. The tally
was cleft in the middle by the deputy chamberlain with a knife and
mallet, whereby it made two halves, each half having a superscription
and a half-part of the notch or notches. Thus cut, one part was
called a tally, the other a counter-tally. When these two parts came
afterwards to be joined, if they were genuine they fitted so exactly as
to be parts one of the other.”[4]
You will understand, therefore, “that the notches corresponded to the
sum for which it was an acknowledgment; the writing on the other sides
containing the date and the payer. The rod was so cut that each half
contained one written side and half of every notch. One part was kept
in the Exchequer and the other was circulated.
“When the time of payment arrived, the two parts were compared, and
if they tallied or corresponded all was right; if not, there was some
fraud, and payment was refused. Tallies were not finally abandoned in
the Exchequer till 1834.”
Having thus cleared the ground, I will proceed with my story.
You already know of the sensation which my appearance in the world
caused, but I have not yet told you that I started in life with the
sanction and support of the Government, and that I received my Charter
of Incorporation, as it was called, on the day I was born.
Those who had the charge of me found it no easy matter to fulfil all
that was demanded of them by the Government for my safety. For, by Act
of Parliament, passed especially for my benefit, they were authorised
and commanded to raise the sum of £1,200,000 within a given time by
voluntary subscriptions, and in case of their failing to do this, I was
to lose my charter.
This was a most difficult undertaking, and under the circumstances
its success was doubtful; for, as you may suppose, I had many enemies
among the money-lenders and people opposed to the Government, who, from
self-interest, did all in their power to ruin me. Happily, however,
the subscriptions came pouring in from individuals, both native and
foreign, and from bodies political and bodies corporate, and that so
rapidly that within ten days the whole sum was obtained and my charter
secured; and thus, bound together with the subscribers, I became a
corporate body, under the name of the Governor and Company of the Bank
of England.
And now I must tell you that with this £1,200,000, my original capital,
I did my first stroke of business, which was to lend it to the
Government, who were in want of money to prosecute the war, and who
for the loan of it paid me interest at the rate of 8 per cent., with a
further allowance of £4,000 a year for management, which, if you reckon
up, you will find afforded me an income of £100,000 per annum—a nice
little sum to start in life with.
To understand my position, you must hear something of my household and
my housekeeping.
It was deemed needful and proper that I should have a governor,
sub-governor, and twenty-four directors, all of whom, it was decided,
must be either natural-born subjects or have been naturalised; and
further to render them eligible for my service, they must have a
certain sum of my stock—Bank of England Stock—standing in their
names and for their use. The governor must possess £4,000 of it, the
sub-governor £3,000, and each director £2,000, at least.
Regarding my position at this present time, you will scarcely believe
how simple and economical was my way of living originally. I occupied
only one room in the hall of the Grocers’ Company, and employed but
fifty-four assistants, whose united salaries did not exceed £4,350.
I must here state that my governors and directors were no expense to
me, but served me without proposing any advantage to themselves, save
and except the interest they would receive from their contributions to
the capital stock of £1,200,000, and the position they would derive
from being of my household.
It was in this one room, with almost primitive simplicity, we lived and
performed the duties of our household. I have a letter in my pocket,
yellow with age and almost crumbling to pieces, written by a gentleman
who paid me a visit in the days of my youth. He writes: “I looked into
the great hall where the bank is kept, and was not a little pleased
to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other
members of that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several stations,
according to the parts they held in that just and regular economy.”
[Illustration: GOLDSMITHS’ ROW.]
It is a pleasant picture which he draws, and one that I love to look
back upon. I think we all derived benefit from working together in
that intimate and kindly manner; it made us strong and of one mind. Of
course, I have grown quite accustomed to a much grander way of living;
it is a sign of my prosperity and my usefulness, and I am thankful, but
I am afraid if you came upon me unawares in my grand parlour you would
find me with a sad sort of yearning for the early primitive simplicity
and kindly feeling.
Many were the rules and regulations I was subject to in those early
days, and even now, all powerful as I feel myself to be, I am still
governed by them. They were irksome, but I never thought of rebelling,
for I knew that their object was to give me a high position and keep me
out of the way of temptation to meanness and dishonour.
One was that I must never trade in any wares, goods, or merchandise
whatever.
Another, that I was never to borrow or owe more than the amount of my
capital, and that if I ventured to disregard this command I should
bring down punishment on the heads of those whose money had endowed me
with my fortune.
Again, I was strictly forbidden to pay any dividend at any time save
only out of this same capital or stock.
Yet one more, I was to lend no money to the Government without the
consent of the Parliament, under a penalty of three times the sum lent,
one-fifth of which was to go to the informer.
How little I thought that a strict adherence and submission to this
early discipline would pave the way to a future in which my movements
would influence the whole body of the public, my opinions and
determinations affect all the markets of the world, and in which my
one room would have extended itself beyond three acres of ground; but
I must not get on too fast—you will see all this for yourselves as the
years of my history roll on.
My early life was not without its cares and struggles which strained
to the utmost the talents and energy of my household. I was but three
years old when I was first attacked, not as you may think, by scarlet
fever or measles, but by ill-treatment and cruel sarcasm.
A child, by name _Land Bank_, living at Exeter Change, not very far
distant from Grocers’ Hall, was ridiculous enough to set up as my
rival. Had she confined herself to fair play while striving to win
from me public favour, I think I should rather have enjoyed it, but
believing that all things were allowable in love and war, she descended
to be spiteful, and being gifted with humour and wit she used them
against me without mercy.
Papers were circulated in all directions with the one view of injuring
me. You will be able to see them, as I have preserved copies—
Here is one—“The trial and condemnation of the Land Bank at Exeter
Change, for murdering the Bank of England at Grocers’ Hall.”
Another, which had a wide circulation, was one supposed to be my last
will and testament, in which “I bequeathed my obstinacy and blunders,
my self-conceit, my blindness, my fears,” and in which “I commanded my
body to be burned lest my creditors should arrest my corpse.”
A third contained an epitaph—
“Here lies the body of the Bank of England, who was born in the year
1694—died May 5th, 1696, in the third year of her age.
“They had issue legitimate by their common seal £1,200,000 called bank
bills, and by their cashier two million sons—called Speed’s notes.”
These papers, so widely circulated, were not without their effect, and
for some time I and my people were in no enviable position. We had to
struggle for a precarious existence—in fact, we had a difficulty to
make the two ends meet.
My notes were at a heavy discount, and I had not always the money
to meet the demands of my creditors. And, just as it always happens
when one is short of money, everybody wanted to borrow of me, amongst
others the Government sadly pressed me for a loan. Oh dear, that was
a troubled period of my life, but help came and prevented disaster by
tiding me over the difficulty.
It was very long before I found myself in a like dilemma, for I soon
learned that to be short of money or, in fact, any difficulty in money
matters, would deprive me of the confidence of the public, and that
would never do; for to me, more than to anyone, confidence was money.
It was cruel behaviour of the Land Bank, but fortunately, except that
it gave me a period of great anxiety, it did me no permanent harm.
Indeed, now that I look back upon it from this distance of time, I
think it was clever of the Land Bank to handicap me, a young beginner,
with her weight of merciless wit, a thing very hard to deal with, or
even to trace, when once it has issued from mouth or pen.
This little trouble being over, we went about our daily work in the one
room as usual; work, which was gradually increasing both in quantity
and responsibility, occupied us from morning till night, and the way in
which we performed it called forth many a word of praise. I remember
seeing the following in a journal which encouraged and pleased me
greatly—
“There never was a body that contributed more to the public safety than
the Bank of England, and who upon every emergency has cheerfully and
readily supplied the necessities of the nation, and in many important
conjunctions has relieved the nation out of the greatest difficulties,
if not absolutely saved it from ruin.”
I may be excused for feeling proud, for I began to see that not only
was I fulfilling my mission, but that the world was aware of it.
The work which occupied my early days was very complicated, although it
fell far short of what I now perform. I will try and give you a little
idea of how I spent my days.
Picture to yourselves my one room, with its directors, clerks, and
secretaries each at his table or desk and ready for the special work
allotted to him.
You want to know where I sat, I, the young and handsome girl. Well, I
was everywhere, infusing life and energy and cheerfulness into all.
With clear head and accurate mind, I watched and verified every
transaction, encouraging and helping all who came to me as far as it
was possible, and giving my warnings gently where no help could be
extended.
All is ready for business—it is early morning—and soon the door opens
to admit a few at first who bring in their hands the peculiar sticks
notched and written on, which were called tallies, and which I have
explained to you in a previous part of my story. These people make
their way up to a certain table and ask that money may be given them in
exchange for the tallies.
This is readily granted for a certain consideration, provided the tally
be correct—or may be, they desired to lodge the sticks with me. In any
case I obliged them, and by my action I made tallies current payment
in the land which, as my friend, Michael Godfrey, stated in his quaint
pamphlet, “The country had long wish’t for,” and which certainly could
not have been effected without me.
If you watch, you will see others passing into the room, bringing
securities of many kinds and asking to borrow money upon them, which
was readily granted, at much less interest than had ever been demanded
before.
Others, who had confidence in me, came to ask that their money might be
lodged with me, to which I assented, telling them that not only would
we give them interest for the money so lodged with me, but that it
would be as much at their disposal as though kept in their cash-box at
home, and very much safer.
[Illustration: 1
________ ___________________________________________________________
/ \ /\ / |
/ \ / \ / De Edv̅o̅. Ironside Pip̅m̅. R. q mutu̅a̅t̅ H Annuit ry— \
| May Dril. \/ \/ \
| Kent. solubil. ex le Sinking Fund A^l. C^l. R. R. Georg. Sedi Conc. \
| Mich^5 yjse die Octob^r. A^s R^i R^s Georg. Sede. xy. \
\ /\ /\ /\ \
\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /| /| /| /| /| /| / \ / \ / \ \
\___/\_/\_/\__/ \/ \/ \/ \__/ |_/ |_/ |_/ |_/ |_/ |__/ \/ \/ \____\
No. 1 is an exact copy of a section of an Exchequer Tally acknowledging
the receipt of £236 4s. 3½d. on Oct. 25, 1739, from Edward Ironside
Esq., as a loan to the King on Three per Cent. Annuities.]
[Illustration: 2
______________ ____________________________________________________
/ /\ /\ / |
/ / \ / \ / \
/ / \/ \/ \
\ \
\ \
\______________________________________________________________________________\
No. 2.—Each large notch represents £100, and a single cut of the notch
signifies half the amount. Thus the upper line of No. 2 represents
£250.]
It was to the interest of all concerned in my establishment to
reduce the interest of money, otherwise we could not have used it to
advantage. We were receiving only 8 per cent. for my stock; the lower,
therefore, we brought all other interest, the more valuable was my
stock.
Previous to my starting in life, the nation had been paying from 12 to
20 per cent. interest for money, which, if it had continued, must have
ruined the kingdom; and as, by the way I did my work, this would be
no longer necessary or possible, those who had been, up to this time,
making money in this fashion, were compelled to spend it on land or
lend it at a moderate rate.
Others came in during the day to have their foreign bills of exchange
discounted, which I did at the rate of 3 per cent. per annum,
undertaking the inland bills and notes for debts at 4½ per cent. per
annum.
This was the kind of work which I performed in my early days, and upon
which has been built up that wonderful fabric of money transactions
associated with my name in this the nineteenth century. I am afraid the
very relation of my day’s work two hundred years ago has wearied you;
if so, forgive me. I felt it necessary to my character to show you that
the work undertaken by me from the very first was good and honourable,
conscientious and helpful, and that wherever my household did a good
stroke of business for itself it was not at the expense of others’
ruin; on the contrary, we could not help ourselves to riches without
extending the benefit all round.
(_To be continued._)
FOOTNOTES:
[2] He kept his money-chests in old Temple Bar.
[3] The revenue was often anticipated by tallies.
[4] Madox: “History of the Exchequer.”
CHRISTMAS IN ITALY.
We were spending a winter on the Riviera, and, after trying various
hotels in town and country, had finally established ourselves in a
pretty little Italian villa, _palazzino_, as the peasants called it,
not many miles from Genoa.
From the terraced garden there was a wide and splendid view. On our
left, as we looked seawards, was the city herself, her marble palaces
and churches rising crescent-wise behind the bay, which on the eastern
side is bounded by the headland of Porto Fino. Facing us was the
shining sweep of the Mediterranean; while to the right hand the Alpes
Maritimes trended away into the far distance, their giant peaks and
hollows an ever-present, ever-changing feast of colour—whether seen at
early dawn, a glory of rose and gold; or at sunset, a gorgeous vision
of amber and crimson, and softest, tenderest violet; or under the
southern moonlight, a study in oxydised silver.
For me mountains have always had a peculiar fascination, and no
landscape ever seems complete without them. I could spend, and, indeed,
did spend, when in Italy, many an hour in watching their changing hues.
But to-day none of our party had time for indulging in mere sentiment.
Throughout the week we had been rambling among the hills and valleys in
quest of mosses, ferns, and other greenery wherewith to decorate the
house; for this was Christmas week, and the day after to-morrow would
be Christmas Day itself.
How difficult it was, even as we worked at the familiar mottoes and
rejoiced over the holly, which, after a seemingly hopeless search, we
had at last found in a remote corner of the Doria woods—how difficult
it was, I say, to realise the fact that this was the 23rd of December.
Why, the garden was full of roses, camellias, and heliotrope; the air
was as soft as upon a summer’s day in England; and we were out of
doors in thin woollen dresses and large, shady hats, rejoicing in the
brilliant sunshine.
We had to give up our pleasant work early that afternoon, as we had
engaged to help at a children’s party given by a kindly English doctor
in the neighbouring village. He had hired a large room at the hotel,
and invited about forty children to a sumptuous tea; and, though
wintering abroad for health’s sake, and with doubtless many an anxious
thought for wife and little ones at home, he most unselfishly catered
upon this evening for the amusement of “other folks’ children.”
The long table was covered with dainties such as little folks love,
while assiduous waiters handed round cups of delicious-looking coffee
and chocolate.
Tea over, there was an adjournment to another room in which all
kinds of merry romps were carried on for an hour or two, a general
distribution of presents took place, a hearty cheer was raised for the
kind doctor, and the young flock trooped gaily home.
Christmas Eve we spent in really hard work over our decorations. The
dining-room was made festive with mottoes in pine sprays and trophies
of orange-boughs laden with fruit, while the drawing-room was adorned
with maidenhair fern, lycopodium moss, arbutus-berries, and the
much-prized holly before mentioned. Then, about six p.m. we started to
spend the evening with some charming neighbours.
The host was German, his wife English, and their two children spoke
both languages with equal facility, adding thereto no mean proficiency
in Italian. An Italian marquis and his younger brother, a married
sister of our hostess, with her husband and little girl, a German
composer, with our own quartet, made up the party. We were at once
ushered into the room in which the Christmas tree had been placed; for
the children, at least, were on the tiptoe of excitement as to their
gifts; and thence, after due distribution thereof, we adjourned to the
dining-room for high tea.
The table was a picture, with its bowls of crimson or pale-pink
china roses. Each couvert had its own bouquet of heliotrope, fern,
and camellia; while the profusion of handsome silver and of ancient
Nuremberg glass combined still further to set off the tasteful
appearance of the whole. What with the many German dishes, and
the chatter of the German tongue all around me, I seemed to be
transferred bodily from the shores of the Mediterranean to the dear and
well-remembered Fatherland—an illusion which was not dispelled until an
hour or so later on, when we found ourselves walking homewards under
the brilliant, starlit sky of the south. On this particular night, too,
the stars were shining with a radiancy which in England would betoken
a hard frost; only that in this case the stars themselves looked so
much larger, and in many instances shone with such intensity as to make
themselves the centre of a distinct halo.
We met numbers of people on their way to midnight mass, either at the
various shrines in the mountains or at favourite churches in Genoa, and
at about eleven p.m. the bells began to ring, and went on at intervals
for four hours, when they ceased for a time, to recommence at five
a.m., and summon the worshippers to early mass.
I inaugurated Christmas in Italy by dressing with open windows, then
joined the younger members of our party in carol-singing outside
our hostess’s bedroom door; after which we all descended to the
dining-room—not, as it would have been, in England, to spread out icy
hands and feet to the welcome blaze of a roaring fire, but to open the
long French windows and to stand awhile upon the balcony watching the
lizards flitting swiftly in and out among the crevices of the marble,
and the green frogs jumping about the boughs of the orange-trees.
Breakfast in Italy was never a heavy meal; but to-day, in honour of the
day, polenta cake and chestnut bread were added to the usual omelette
and roll, to which due attention having been paid, we returned to the
balcony and eagerly awaited the postman.
He brought a goodly supply of letters for each of us, and with thankful
hearts we set out for morning service.
The church was full of roses—red, white, and yellow. Arbutus and fern
wreathed the east window and the chancel arch; and designs of roses
upon a mossy ground filled in the panels of lectern and reading desk
and the wide window-sills. There was, of course, a good attendance, and
all joined with spirit in the service; but our clergyman rather damped
the conclusion of it by preaching a very long and exceedingly dolorous
sermon, in which he harped upon “vacant chairs,” “absent friends,”
“broken circles,” and “dear invalids,” until he had reduced two-thirds
of the congregation to tears.
Our dinner-party included a few English friends staying at the hotel,
and one or two Italians, the latter being as much interested in our
national customs as we were in theirs. It was certainly quaint enough
to find that the Eastern Counties doggerel had its counterpart among
the shepherds of Sardinia, with whom it is generally used as a cradle
song.
“Lu letto meo est de battor cantones,
Et battor anghelos si bei ponem,
Duos in pes, et duos in cabitta.
Nostre Segnora a costazu m’istu.
Ea mie narat: Dormi e reposa,
No hapas paura de mala cosa.”
In Upper Italy they sing—
“Dormi, dormi, O bel Bambin,
Rè divin.
Dormi, dormi, O fantolin,
Fa la nanna, O caro giglio,
Rè de Ciel.”
And a gentleman who joined us later on wound up our charming evening by
singing to a strange old chant the following Burgundian carol, written,
as my readers will perceive, in alternate lines of French and Latin:—
“Voici la Roi des Nations,
Natus ex sacra Virgine:
Ce fils de bénédiction,
Ortus de David seminæ;
Voici l’Etoile de Jacob,
Quam prædixerat Balaam:
Ce Dieu qui détruisit Jéricho,
In clara terra Chanaam.”
DRESS: IN SEASON AND IN REASON.
BY A LADY DRESSMAKER.
[Illustration: BELOW LAUNSTOWN CASTLE.]
The advent of new ideas in clothing has been later this year than
usual, and we were well into the middle of November before we
recognised many things as novelties in the shops, even though they were
well filled with new dress manufactures as usual. Stripes are a great
deal worn in all materials, but checked stuffs show signs of being
rather more popular, and the fine-lined checks with which we began the
autumn have grown into greater squares as the time has gone on. But
these new checks are not at all in the direction of Scotch plaids, nor
do they show any tendency to such garish colouring. Their hues are
singularly well chosen, and even when the plaid is large it is neither
ugly nor aggressively visible. They are never produced in more than two
shades of colour, and they are mostly made up with velvet of a dark
shade, nearly akin to that of the darkest shade of the plaid. These
woollen materials are coarse and heavy-looking, and nothing seems more
popular than serge and serge grounds to woollens of all kinds. Angola
wools, with their long, untidy-looking, hairy surfaces, are also much
liked; nor must I forget the new woollens, with stripes of braid in
high relief on them.
There are great numbers of fancy silk materials to mix with fine
woollens, such as chess-board designs in velvet and plush on a satin
ground; plain and fancy stripes in plush and velvet; velvet, with
crossbar designs in terry; brocaded silks, the brocade being in velvet,
terry, or plush; and silks with stripes in imitation of lace. All these
may be called trimming materials, and are used for underskirts for
woollen materials as well.
There are several things in the winter fashions which are quite fixed.
First, that there are no trains to any dresses, whatever people may
say—save and except to court dresses and the evening gowns worn by
a few dowagers who fancy old ways the best. The general idea with
reference to all draperies, overskirts, panels, and skirts is to give
length and height; therefore, those of my readers who are very tall
will have to use some judgment in choosing a skirt that shall not make
them look too gigantic. Most of the morning dresses are made of two
woollen materials, a better kind of walking or afternoon dress with
a woollen and silk material, such as I have described. There do not
appear to be any really short tunics, but some dresses have the long
overskirt more raised and bunched-up at one side than they have been.
The skirts are generally rather wider, but are not distended, except by
a moderate _tournure_. The collar, cuffs, and _revers_ are of the same
material as the underskirt, and bands of this material are put round
the edge of the overskirt. When this is a plaid it is cut on the bias,
and with plaids folds are very much used everywhere that they can be
introduced.
The chief changes that one has to chronicle are to be seen in the
sleeves of dresses, which, after remaining quite stationary and
unaltered for a long time, have now quite blossomed out into new beauty
of form, much of which, I think, is derived from Venetian portraiture.
The sleeves of evening gowns are all of this class, and have puffs of
thin material from the shoulders to the elbow; ending in a plain band
of velvet, or a puff of transparent material at the elbow. Some sleeves
have puffs inside the arm at the elbow, and end in a plain band or cuff
round the arm. In the daytime deep cuffs are much worn; they are cut so
as to stand away from the arm like the deep cuffs of a cavalier glove.
Then there are puffs at the shoulder; and there is also a new sleeve
that has no seam at the back of the arm. Shoulder-straps and epaulettes
are very popular additions to the bodice; and we find shoulder-straps
without epaulettes, and epaulettes without shoulder-straps, or both
together. Some of the shoulder-straps to woollen dresses are of the
material of the dress, which may be braided or embroidered.
One bodice which I have lately seen struck me as being both ugly and
peculiar, and it must, I am sure, be a faithful copy of a railway
porter’s waistcoat—with its front of corduroy, and its back of linen.
In the copy, the fronts are of velvet, fancy or plain plush, and the
backs are of plain silk to match it in colour, the sleeves being also
of silk. One of the new fancies is to make the dress-sleeves like the
waistcoat or plastron, the bodice being of a different stuff, and
having a small epaulette on the shoulder. I have been careful to give
all these changes in detail, as they will, I know, be very valuable to
the home dressmaker, and to those on whom the burden rests of “doing
up” half-worn dresses, and making themselves look well and ladylike on
small means.
Bodices are a great deal trimmed at present. Waistcoats, plastrons,
and full or plain plastrons with long _revers_ that extend from
shoulder to the point of the bodice, as well as braces, are all forms
of trimming. The latter are now put on much higher than they were,
and are carried close to the band at the neck, and they sometimes
meet in the centre of the back. The sleeves are often trimmed round
the shoulder-seams on the bodice—a very useful fashion indeed, as the
sides, which are too well worn by the friction of the arms, can be made
quite respectable for a longer term of service.
There is no change in the way of making dress bodices. The basques
are all cut very short on the hips, and are generally ended in a
square-cut tail at the back, with a fan of pleats, or even plain, and
not with ornaments at all. The darts in front are cut very high, and
are straight in form; and there are two side pieces—one quite below the
arm; and the seam of the side piece at the back is as straightly cut as
possible. The great fancy is still for a narrow and flat back, and all
methods of cutting out tried to produce this effect.
[Illustration: IN A CORNER OF THE DRAWING-ROOM.]
There is not very much to relate about mantles this month. They all
seem to be short at the back and long in front, the ends being either
square or pointed. In the latter case many of them are tied with ribbon
bows, or have other ornaments of braid, beads, or chenille. Striped
materials are used for making up handsome cloaks; and ulsters are
usually made of checked woollens, though they are by no means “loud”
in tone. The small mantles of plush, brocade, and velvet are very much
trimmed and ornamented; and in this way—as the beaded trimmings and fur
bands are moderate in price—mantles that have already seen service may
be helped over another winter. The long jackets will be found to cut
into shape very well; and I have recently helped to alter a _paletôt_
which had been dyed, by cutting it up nearly to the waist, at the back,
and into deep square ends in front. The trimming then laid on was
black astrachan, about two and a half inches deep all round, and in
a V shaped point on the back, with cuffs and a tiny epaulette on the
sleeves, making it quite a new garment at a very small expense, viz.,
2s. 6d. for the dyeing and about 6s. for the five and a half yards of
astrachan.
Instead of the almost forgotten sets of linen collars and cuffs, many
ladies are wearing pleated satin, the pleats being very close and
small. The satin is used in various colours, and appears also in the
necks and sleeves of evening dresses, especially in black ones, where
the bright hues of the satin look refreshing. A velvet bow may finish
it at the neck.
These are certainly halcyon days for the home milliner, for so
little trimming is placed on bonnets that it is quite worth while
to manufacture them at home, after a look at the many shown in the
windows. Care must be taken to set the bows in front up well, and, if a
soft material, a long bit of wire will form a support.
The flower of the day is the white chrysanthemum, and one sees it
everywhere—on dinner tables, as button holes, and forming bouquets.
Very few flowers, however, are seen in millinery, and ribbons seem in
greater favour. A new idea in the way of dress pockets is to have the
pocket made as a little gathered bag or reticule, which hangs at the
side for the handkerchief.
The stockings produced for wearing this winter are quiet and
ladylike-looking, being self-coloured, to match any dress with which
they may be worn; or, if embroidered, the patterns are small, or the
stripes are merely fine lines of colours. The newest shoes all appear
to lace, not button; and this will probably keep them in all the better
shape, as they can be pulled tightly together or loosened, as desired.
Laced boots are also returning to favour, for the same reason; but I do
hope my girl-readers will not neglect their laces, and always try to
keep a spare lace in the house, in case of breakages, as nothing looks
so bad, or is really so wretched in wear, as a broken or an untidy,
unevenly pulled-up lace. For skating, of course, laced boots are a
necessity.
The new winter muffs of fur are not large, and nearly all of them are
supplied with a purse or pocket of some kind, and also have handles
of fur, which are more convenient than the purse; for the muff can be
slung over the arm when shopping, or when it is necessary to keep the
hands free; a style that seems more sensible than the long cord round
the neck for grown-up people. Long boas are not quite so long as they
were, and are now more used with one long tail hanging down than two,
the other end being the head of some furry creature—mink, marten, or
squirrel; and so far does this idea go, that the legs are often seen as
well, which is a painfully suggestive idea.
Our illustrations for this month are peculiarly successful in showing
the prettiest of the winter styles, especially in the larger picture of
out-of-door gear. The long cloaks are shown with two different styles
of trimming, and a short jacket braided with thick cord—which is very
girlish and graceful. So, also, is the short mantle trimmed with bands
of fur. In the corner of the drawing-room—which serves as a warm and
cosy refuge to two of our girls—we have our paper pattern of last month
illustrated, with a plastron of soft silk added to it, for wearing in
the house; while a waistcoat is used for the out-of-doors dress. The
young girl in the armchair wears a “Norfolk,” or pleated jacket, like
her dress, which has an air of simplicity and elegance. These “Norfolk
jackets” we propose to adopt for our paper patterns for this month.
The first is really a repetition of that we have already given, which,
however, is as much worn as ever; and the second is rather a new form,
with a yoked top, which is sometimes made pointed both in front and
behind. The first of the “Norfolk jackets,” or blouses, is that without
a yoke, and for this I will repeat the directions given very carefully,
for it is a pattern that can be cut out and made-up by anyone, however
inexperienced they may be. It consists of seven pieces: the front,
back, collar, belt, two halves of a sleeve, and a cuff. The back should
be cut double, as there is no join down the centre; a deep hem must be
allowed on each side the front where the buttons are placed; the pleats
turn forward, and the position of the notches should be very carefully
observed. The edges may be finished by a row of machine stitching,
which should be even and good.
[Illustration: NORFOLK JACKETS.]
No lining is needed, as a general rule, to this bodice. The pleats
are run down, like the breast of a shirt, or may be stitched with a
machine. The quantity of material required for either of these bodices
would be about three yards and a half of thirty-six inches in width.
No seams are allowed in the pattern. The other blouse is made with
a yoke, and has nine pieces, viz., front, back, two sleeve pieces,
collar, cuff, belt, and two yoke pieces, back and front. In cutting
out, the back must be cut double, and in making up the yoke should
be stitched flatly on the pleated portions with the machine before
joining the bodice together. Both the belts should be lined with
buckram, and machine-stitched at each edge, to render them firm and
useful. These blouses are worn both out of doors and in, and are made
and worn at present in blue, crimson, and all shades of red, in black
and white, and may be worn with differently-coloured skirts. They are
very suitable for young girls, and may well form the first experiment
in their own home dressmaking for the inexperienced. The materials
used are elastic cloth, serge, diagonal, blue linen, cashmere, and, of
course, any dress material which may be in fashion.
All paper patterns supplied by “The Lady Dressmaker” are of medium
size, viz., thirty-six inches round the chest, and only one size is
prepared for sale. No turnings are allowed in any of them. Each pattern
may be had of “The Lady Dressmaker,” care of Mr. H. G. Davis, 73,
Ludgate-hill, E.C.; price 1s. each. It is requested that the addresses
be clearly given, and that postal notes may be crossed “& Co.” to go
through a bank, as so many losses have recently occurred. The patterns
already issued are always kept in stock, as “The Lady Dressmaker” only
issues patterns likely to be of constant use in home-dressmaking and
altering; and she is particularly careful to give all the new patterns
of hygienic underclothing, both for children and old and young ladies,
so that no reader of the G.O.P. may be ignorant of the best methods of
dressing.
The following is a list of the patterns already issued, price 1s. each:—
April, braided loose fronted jacket; May, velvet bodice; June, Swiss
belt and full bodice, with plain sleeves; July, mantle; August,
Norfolk, or pleated jacket; September, housemaid’s or plain skirt;
October, combination garment (underlinen) with long sleeves; November,
double-breasted jacket; December, Zouave jacket and bodice; January,
princess underdress (underlinen, underbodice, and underskirt combined);
February, polonaise, with waterfall back; March, new spring bodice;
April, divided skirt, and Bernhardt mantle with sling sleeves; May,
Early English bodice and yoke bodice for summer dress; June, dressing
jacket, and princess frock, with Normandy bonnet for a child of four
years old; July, Princess of Wales’ jacket, bodice and waistcoat, for
tailor-made gown; August, bodice with guimpe; September, mantle with
stole ends; October, pyjama, or nightdress combination, with full back;
November, new winter bodice; December, patterns of Norfolk blouses, one
with a yoke and one with pleats only.
[Illustration]
NOTICES OF NEW MUSIC.
EDWIN ASHDOWN.
_Vanished Years._ Song. By Seymour Smith.—A sympathetic, easy setting
of the sad words by Helen M. Waitman. It is published in F and A flat.
_The Violet and the Snowdrop._ Song. By Ethel Harraden, with words
by Gertrude Harraden.—A simple story, simply illustrated. The violin
accompaniment, charming as it is, would have been much more so, had
it been broken up a little more. There is no rest for it, and this
destroys much of its effect. The same part has been transposed an
octave for a violoncello. The song is within the compass of most
singers—C to D, and not higher.
_Two Melodies_ for violin and piano, by the same composer, Miss
Harraden, meet all the requirements of the youthful amateur violinist.
They are simple, effective, and melodious. As they are so evidently
intended for young people, we are surprised that the violin part is
neither fingered nor bowed.
_Six Romances._ For the pianoforte. By Sir George Macfarren.—If the
others are as delightful as Nos. 4 (_Lullaby_) and 5 (_Welcome_), which
we have before us, these romances are the most graceful and sympathetic
works for the piano which this great theoretical master has given us.
_Tarantella._ In G minor. For pianoforte. By J. Hoffmann.—A very
characteristic specimen of this phrenzied dance. The excitement is well
sustained to the close.
_Violanté._ A Spanish Waltz. For piano. By Michael Watson.—Containing
what Mr. Corder would call “distinct local colouring,” and developing
a graceful subject. Is it because the melody is in Spanish that the
title-page is in French?
_Gavotte._ In D. By Ariosti (1660-1730). Arranged by Edwin M. Lott for
the piano.—An interesting relic by a man who, like Buononcini, was at
the commencement of the eighteenth century a powerful rival to Handel
in opera production, and who, like Buononcini, is now almost entirely
forgotten.
_Arpeggios._—An extremely useful collection of these technical
passages. By Edwin M. Lott.—The arrangement of the arpeggios is founded
on the well-known work of Charles Chaulieu, who taught the piano in
London 1840-9.
_Two Andantes_, for the organ, by Walter Porter, are mild, harmless
movements, containing many signs of the youthful amateur about
them. Amongst others is the fact that the pedals are used without
intermission from beginning to end, augmenting a want of contrast and
variety already too apparent in both pieces.
PATEY AND WILLIS.
_Yellow Roses_ we can recommend as a pretty ballad by Michael Watson.
It is published in every necessary key.
_Biondina_, a ballad of a rather better order, by Weatherly, has been
set to music by F. N. Löhr.
_No other Dream._ Song, for mezzo-soprano voice. By Joseph L.
Roeckel.—Is also of the modern ballad type, and hardly attains to the
usual merit of this composer’s songs.
_Clairette._ By Ernst J. Reiter.—A fascinating little dance for piano.
The delicacy of subject and treatment suggests a lady’s composition in
every page.
_Bouquets de Mélodies._ Pour violon, avec accompagnement de piano. Par
Gustav Merkel.—We have received No. 1, a gavotte in C, a well-written
trifle by this scholarly German organist and composer.
ROBERT COCKS AND CO.
_While we Dream._ A song of moderate compass, possessing much musical
feeling, and the originality that we are now led to expect from
Mr. Addison. A curious, not very vocal, effect is produced by the
diminished fourth, in the line, “At our feet long shadows lie.”
_The Old See-Saw_ is a song of the conventional “Swing, swing” type,
but brightly written, and likely to add to Miss Annie Armstrong’s
reputation as a popular writer of small things.
J. CURWEN AND SONS.
A most important addition to the large number of teaching manuals
already published is the _Child Pianist_, divided into grades and
steps, and combining in a thoughtful and systematic way a little
theory and a little practice, never forcing a child, and never letting
the head get in front of the hands or _vice versâ_. Accompanying
these steps with their capital duets for pupil and teacher, by J.
Kinross, written after the manner of Lebert and Stark’s book, we have
a _Teacher’s Guide to the Child Pianist_, an assistance to young
teachers, and an essential explanation to the exercises and method. We
cannot too highly estimate the care and management displayed by Mrs. J.
S. Curwen, the authoress of these valuable works.
F. PITMAN AND CO.
We do not generally notice dance music, but must mention with praise
two compositions of this class by Evelyn Hastings, really charming
and graceful as piano pieces, for little _entr’actes_ at readings, or
between charades; they are the _Onda Waltz_ and the _Postscript Polka_,
the latter being especially happy in its construction.
AN APPEAL.
I should very much like to interest the readers of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER
in the little Hindu school girls and native ladies in India, with the
hope that I may receive occasional supplies of dolls, scrapbooks, and
old Christmas cards for distribution. Several times a year I pack
a large case with toys and other attractive things, and it is sent
to English ladies at Calcutta or Madras, or elsewhere. These ladies
give away the contents on prize days and other occasions, when it is
delightful to witness the pleasure of the happy recipients. Presents
from England are particularly liked, not only because they are novel
and different from Indian toys, but also because the school-children
are glad to be thought of by friends at such a distance. Though
their ideas of our country are very vague, they value these tangible
expressions of sympathy in their good conduct and progress, which have
come to them from the other side of the world.
One of the ladies to whom I send cases of presents and prizes is
Mrs. Brander, Inspectress of Girls’ Schools in Madras. During the
last six years her constant occupation has been to examine and report
on schools, and she has often to travel a long way for the purpose.
Though there are some railways in the Madras Presidency, they do not
reach the out-of-the-way places that Mrs. Brander has to visit, so she
makes a part of her journey in what is called a _bullock bandy_. This
is a sort of small private omnibus, drawn by two patient bullocks, at
the rate of two miles an hour. It is sent forward to meet her at some
distant station. Besides the bullock bandy for the inspectress, there
are several other vehicles, forming quite a procession. One is for the
deputy inspector, who has the long name of Miss Govindarajulu; another
for the writers (or clerks), and some for the luggage of the party. Two
Government peons, or attendants, rather like commissionaires, guard
and manage the cavalcade, if so it may be called. The roads are often
very rough and dusty, and for part of the day it is extremely hot.
Sometimes a river has to be forded, for there are not many bridges.
The native drivers are ready to say that the stream is too strong, but
Mrs. Brander does not listen to their objections unless there seems
to be real danger, so down the bank the bullocks are made to go, and
across the water. At night the travellers halt at a rest house, which
is provided at certain places by Government, but does not give very
good accommodation. At last a village is arrived at, where there is
a school, and some of the native gentlemen of the place who are the
managers, receive the inspectress. It is often located in a dark,
close room, or, more pleasantly, in a verandah, under an overhanging
roof. Mrs. Brander then examines the pupils in reading and writing,
arithmetic and needlework. She is not hard upon them, for the teachers
themselves have had little opportunity of learning. The children are
generally bright and quick, very gentle and graceful, and with a
winning but shy manner. It is true they are apt to be idle, but then it
is trying to learn lessons when the heat is so intense, and they are
not taught very intelligently.
Often the mothers of the little scholars crowd to the school, and talk
to Mrs. Brander. At one place several of these women begged her to give
them a lesson in needlework, and she did so; but they all pressed so
closely round her that she had to insist on two or three only looking
on at a time.
Altogether, the arrival of an inspectress at a village is an event of
much interest. Now she usually carries with her luggage a number of
dolls, pictures, small boxes, and Christmas cards, out of her English
store. If it is the time for a prize-giving at any particular school,
she chooses some suitable things, which are placed on a table and
distributed with the usual ceremony, including speeches. And how
pleased the children are! They hug their dolls as eagerly as English
children do, and their dark eyes sparkle with pleasure. Whether or
not it is a prize occasion, Mrs. Brander gives Christmas cards to
the scholars that have attended for a month with regularity, and she
likes to leave a packet with the schoolmaster as future rewards. One
school had become almost empty for some reason, but on hearing of the
Christmas cards the children all came back. These journeys of the
inspectress last often three or four weeks, because there are many
schools to visit. At the end of each tour she returns to Madras. There
she has to inspect a number of larger and more important schools, but
for these, too, she is glad to have prizes ready.
I must not occupy too much space, but I want to mention that when Mrs.
Brander is at Madras she gives an afternoon party to native ladies on
one Saturday in the month. Some English ladies also attend, and there
are various amusements, such as parlour croquet, chess, solitaire,
puzzles, music, and for the little ones, games—as several of the
ladies bring their children. If Mrs. Brander has just received a box
from England, she displays the pretty things, and they are eagerly and
minutely examined by the guests. The party is always much enjoyed,
and on going away the children are often presented with a toy. Other
English ladies at Madras also give occasional parties of the same kind.
Last January there was one at which a beautiful Christmas tree added
greatly to the entertainment.
Now I shall be very glad to take charge of dolls or other toys, and
old Christmas cards (with or without writing upon them) for sending
to India. I need presents not only for Madras but for other places,
only I cannot refer to those now. The dolls should be of composition
or china, not of very soft wax. It is not necessary that their clothes
should take off and on, though for large dolls this is an advantage.
The Indian children are very pleased to have small boxes with lock and
key, to keep their bangles in, and they like bags too. At Calcutta many
of the ladies read English, so that interesting books are of use, if
not very difficult. I shall be able to inform the donors of the way
in which their kind gifts are applied, for Mrs. Brander and my other
correspondents tell me particulars about the children who receive them.
I give my address, and I shall be very grateful on behalf of the little
Indian children if my appeal is responded to.
E. A. MANNING,
35, Blomfield Road, Maida Hill, W.
“NO.”
BY MARY E. HULLAH.