Cranford(克兰弗德)

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Cranford

CHAPTER I - OUR SOCIETY

IN the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the

holders of houses above a certain rent are women. If a married couple

come to settle in the town, somehow the gentleman disappears; he is

either fairly frightened to death by being the only man in the Cranford

evening parties, or he is accounted for by being with his regiment, his

ship, or closely engaged in business all the week in the great

neighbouring commercial town of Drumble, distant only twenty miles

on a railroad. In short, whatever does become of the gentlemen, they

are not at Cranford. What could they do if they were there? The

surgeon has his round of thirty miles, and sleeps at Cranford; but every

man cannot be a surgeon. For keeping the trim gardens full of choice

flowers without a weed to speck them; for frightening away little boys

who look wistfully at the said flowers through the railings; for rushing

out at the geese that occasionally venture in to the gardens if the gates

are left open; for deciding all questions of literature and politics without

troubling themselves with unnecessary reasons or arguments; for

obtaining clear and correct knowledge of everybody's affairs in the

parish; for keeping their neat maid-servants in admirable order; for

kindness (somewhat dictatorial) to the poor, and real tender good offices

to each other whenever they are in distress, the ladies of Cranford are

quite sufficient. "A man," as one of them observed to me once, "is SO

in the way in the house!" Although the ladies of Cranford know all

each other's proceedings, they are exceedingly indifferent to each other's

opinions. Indeed, as each has her own individuality, not to say

eccentricity, pretty strongly developed, nothing is so easy as verbal

retaliation; but, somehow, good-will reigns among them to a

considerable degree.

The Cranford ladies have only an occasional little quarrel, spirited

out in a few peppery words and angry jerks of the head; just enough to

prevent the even tenor of their lives from becoming too flat. Their

dress is very independent of fashion; as they observe, "What does it

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signify how we dress here at Cranford, where everybody knows us?"

And if they go from home, their reason is equally cogent, "What does it

signify how we dress here, where nobody knows us?" The materials of

their clothes are, in general, good and plain, and most of them are nearly

as scrupulous as Miss Tyler, of cleanly memory; but I will answer for it,

the last gigot, the last tight and scanty petticoat in wear in England, was

seen in Cranford - and seen without a smile.

I can testify to a magnificent family red silk umbrella, under which a

gentle little spinster, left alone of many brothers and sisters, used to

patter to church on rainy days. Have you any red silk umbrellas in

London? We had a tradition of the first that had ever been seen in

Cranford; and the little boys mobbed it, and called it "a stick in

petticoats." It might have been the very red silk one I have described,

held by a strong father over a troop of little ones; the poor little lady -

the survivor of all - could scarcely carry it.

Then there were rules and regulations for visiting and calls; and they

were announced to any young people who might be staying in the town,

with all the solemnity with which the old Manx laws were read once a

year on the Tinwald Mount.

"Our friends have sent to inquire how you are after your journey to-

night, my dear" (fifteen miles in a gentleman's carriage); "they will give

you some rest to-morrow, but the next day, I have no doubt, they will

call; so be at liberty after twelve - from twelve to three are our calling

hours."

Then, after they had called -

"It is the third day; I dare say your mamma has told you, my dear,

never to let more than three days elapse between receiving a call and

returning it; and also, that you are never to stay longer than a quarter of

an hour."

"But am I to look at my watch? How am I to find out when a quarter

of an hour has passed?"

"You must keep thinking about the time, my dear, and not allow

yourself to forget it in conversation."

As everybody had this rule in their minds, whether they received or

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paid a call, of course no absorbing subject was ever spoken about. We

kept ourselves to short sentences of small talk, and were punctual to our

time.

I imagine that a few of the gentlefolks of Cranford were poor, and

had some difficulty in making both ends meet; but they were like the

Spartans, and concealed their smart under a smiling face. We none of

us spoke of money, because that subject savoured of commerce and

trade, and though some might be poor, we were all aristocratic. The

Cranfordians had that kindly ESPRIT DE CORPS which made them

overlook all deficiencies in success when some among them tried to

conceal their poverty. When Mrs Forrester, for instance, gave a party

in her baby-house of a dwelling, and the little maiden disturbed the

ladies on the sofa by a request that she might get the tea-tray out from

underneath, everyone took this novel proceeding as the most natural

thing in the world, and talked on about household forms and ceremonies

as if we all believed that our hostess had a regular servants' hall, second

table, with housekeeper and steward, instead of the one little charity-

school maiden, whose short ruddy arms could never have been strong

enough to carry the tray upstairs, if she had not been assisted in private

by her mistress, who now sat in state, pretending not to know what cakes

were sent up, though she knew, and we knew, and she knew that we

knew, and we knew that she knew that we knew, she had been busy all

the morning making tea-bread and sponge-cakes.

There were one or two consequences arising from this general but

unacknowledged poverty, and this very much acknowledged gentility,

which were not amiss, and which might be introduced into many circles

of society to their great improvement. For instance, the inhabitants of

Cranford kept early hours, and clattered home in their pattens, under the

guidance of a lantern-bearer, about nine o'clock at night; and the whole

town was abed and asleep by half- past ten. Moreover, it was considered

"vulgar" (a tremendous word in Cranford) to give anything expensive, in

the way of eatable or drinkable, at the evening entertainments. Wafer

bread-and-butter and sponge-biscuits were all that the Honourable Mrs

Jamieson gave; and she was sister-in-law to the late Earl of Glenmire,

Cranford

although she did practise such "elegant economy."

"Elegant economy!" How naturally one falls back into the

phraseology of Cranford! There, economy was always "elegant," and

money-spending always "vulgar and ostentatious"; a sort of sour-

grapeism which made us very peaceful and satisfied. I never shall

forget the dismay felt when a certain Captain Brown came to live at

Cranford, and openly spoke about his being poor - not in a whisper to an

intimate friend, the doors and windows being previously closed, but in

the public street! in a loud military voice! alleging his poverty as a

reason for not taking a particular house. The ladies of Cranford were

already rather moaning over the invasion of their territories by a man

and a gentleman. He was a half-pay captain, and had obtained some

situation on a neighbouring railroad, which had been vehemently

petitioned against by the little town; and if, in addition to his masculine

gender, and his connection with the obnoxious railroad, he was so

brazen as to talk of being poor - why, then, indeed, he must be sent to

Coventry. Death was as true and as common as poverty; yet people

never spoke about that, loud out in the streets. It was a word not to be

mentioned to ears polite. We had tacitly agreed to ignore that any with

whom we associated on terms of visiting equality could ever be

prevented by poverty from doing anything that they wished. If we

walked to or from a party, it was because the night was SO fine, or the

air SO refreshing, not because sedan-chairs were expensive. If we

wore prints, instead of summer silks, it was because we preferred a

washing material; and so on, till we blinded ourselves to the vulgar fact

that we were, all of us, people of very moderate means. Of course,

then, we did not know what to make of a man who could speak of

poverty as if it was not a disgrace. Yet, somehow, Captain Brown made

himself respected in Cranford, and was called upon, in spite of all

resolutions to the contrary. I was surprised to hear his opinions quoted

as authority at a visit which I paid to Cranford about a year after he had

settled in the town. My own friends had been among the bitterest

opponents of any proposal to visit the Captain and his daughters, only

twelve months before; and now he was even admitted in the tabooed

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hours before twelve. True, it was to discover the cause of a smoking

chimney, before the fire was lighted; but still Captain Brown walked

upstairs, nothing daunted, spoke in a voice too large for the room, and

joked quite in the way of a tame man about the house. He had been

blind to all the small slights, and omissions of trivial ceremonies, with

which he had been received. He had been friendly, though the

Cranford ladies had been cool; he had answered small sarcastic

compliments in good faith; and with his manly frankness had

overpowered all the shrinking which met him as a man who was not

ashamed to be poor. And, at last, his excellent masculine common

sense, and his facility in devising expedients to overcome domestic

dilemmas, had gained him an extraordinary place as authority among the

Cranford ladies. He himself went on in his course, as unaware of his

popularity as he had been of the reverse; and I am sure he was startled

one day when he found his advice so highly esteemed as to make some

counsel which he had given in jest to be taken in sober, serious earnest.

It was on this subject: An old lady had an Alderney cow, which she

looked upon as a daughter. You could not pay the short quarter of an

hour call without being told of the wonderful milk or wonderful

intelligence of this animal. The whole town knew and kindly regarded

Miss Betsy Barker's Alderney; therefore great was the sympathy and

regret when, in an unguarded moment, the poor cow tumbled into a

lime-pit. She moaned so loudly that she was soon heard and rescued;

but meanwhile the poor beast had lost most of her hair, and came out

looking naked, cold, and miserable, in a bare skin. Everybody pitied

the animal, though a few could not restrain their smiles at her droll

appearance. Miss Betsy Barker absolutely cried with sorrow and

dismay; and it was said she thought of trying a bath of oil. This

remedy, perhaps, was recommended by some one of the number whose

advice she asked; but the proposal, if ever it was made, was knocked on

the head by Captain Brown's decided "Get her a flannel waistcoat and

flannel drawers, ma'am, if you wish to keep her alive. But my advice is,

kill the poor creature at once."

Miss Betsy Barker dried her eyes, and thanked the Captain heartily;

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she set to work, and by-and-by all the town turned out to see the

Alderney meekly going to her pasture, clad in dark grey flannel. I have

watched her myself many a time. Do you ever see cows dressed in

grey flannel in London?

Captain Brown had taken a small house on the outskirts of the town,

where he lived with his two daughters. He must have been upwards of

sixty at the time of the first visit I paid to Cranford after I had left it as a

residence. But he had a wiry, well-trained, elastic figure, a stiff

military throw-back of his head, and a springing step, which made him

appear much younger than he was. His eldest daughter looked almost

as old as himself, and betrayed the fact that his real was more than his

apparent age. Miss Brown must have been forty; she had a sickly,

pained, careworn expression on her face, and looked as if the gaiety of

youth had long faded out of sight. Even when young she must have

been plain and hard- featured. Miss Jessie Brown was ten years younger

than her sister, and twenty shades prettier. Her face was round and

dimpled. Miss Jenkyns once said, in a passion against Captain Brown

(the cause of which I will tell you presently), "that she thought it was

time for Miss Jessie to leave off her dimples, and not always to be trying

to look like a child." It was true there was something childlike in her

face; and there will be, I think, till she dies, though she should live to a

hundred. Her eyes were large blue wondering eyes, looking straight at

you; her nose was unformed and snub, and her lips were red and dewy;

she wore her hair, too, in little rows of curls, which heightened this

appearance. I do not know whether she was pretty or not; but I liked

her face, and so did everybody, and I do not think she could help her

dimples. She had something of her father's jauntiness of gait and

manner; and any female observer might detect a slight difference in the

attire of the two sisters - that of Miss Jessie being about two pounds per

annum more expensive than Miss Brown's. Two pounds was a large

sum in Captain Brown's annual disbursements.

Such was the impression made upon me by the Brown family when I

first saw them all together in Cranford Church. The Captain I had met

before - on the occasion of the smoky chimney, which he had cured by

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some simple alteration in the flue. In church, he held his double eye-

glass to his eyes during the Morning Hymn, and then lifted up his head

erect and sang out loud and joyfully. He made the responses louder

than the clerk - an old man with a piping feeble voice, who, I think, felt

aggrieved at the Captain's sonorous bass, and quivered higher and higher

in consequence.

On coming out of church, the brisk Captain paid the most gallant

attention to his two daughters.

He nodded and smiled to his acquaintances; but he shook hands with

none until he had helped Miss Brown to unfurl her umbrella, had

relieved her of her prayer-book, and had waited patiently till she, with

trembling nervous hands, had taken up her gown to walk through the wet

roads.

I wonder what the Cranford ladies did with Captain Brown at their

parties. We had often rejoiced, in former days, that there was no

gentleman to be attended to, and to find conversation for, at the card-

parties. We had congratulated ourselves upon the snugness of the

evenings; and, in our love for gentility, and distaste of mankind, we had

almost persuaded ourselves that to be a man was to be "vulgar"; so that

when I found my friend and hostess, Miss Jenkyns, was going to have a

party in my honour, and that Captain and the Miss Browns were invited,

I wondered much what would be the course of the evening. Card-

tables, with green baize tops, were set out by daylight, just as usual; it

was the third week in November, so the evenings closed in about four.

Candles, and clean packs of cards, were arranged on each table. The

fire was made up; the neat maid-servant had received her last directions;

and there we stood, dressed in our best, each with a candle-lighter in our

hands, ready to dart at the candles as soon as the first knock came.

Parties in Cranford were solemn festivities, making the ladies feel

gravely elated as they sat together in their best dresses. As soon as

three had arrived, we sat down to "Preference," I being the unlucky

fourth. The next four comers were put down immediately to another

table; and presently the tea- trays, which I had seen set out in the store-

room as I passed in the morning, were placed each on the middle of a

Cranford

card-table. The china was delicate egg-shell; the old-fashioned silver

glittered with polishing; but the eatables were of the slightest description.

While the trays were yet on the tables, Captain and the Miss Browns

came in; and I could see that, somehow or other, the Captain was a

favourite with all the ladies present. Ruffled brows were smoothed,

sharp voices lowered at his approach. Miss Brown looked ill, and

depressed almost to gloom. Miss Jessie smiled as usual, and seemed

nearly as popular as her father. He immediately and quietly assumed

the man's place in the room; attended to every one's wants, lessened the

pretty maid-servant's labour by waiting on empty cups and bread-and-

butterless ladies; and yet did it all in so easy and dignified a manner, and

so much as if it were a matter of course for the strong to attend to the

weak, that he was a true man throughout. He played for threepenny

points with as grave an interest as if they had been pounds; and yet, in

all his attention to strangers, he had an eye on his suffering daughter -

for suffering I was sure she was, though to many eyes she might only

appear to be irritable. Miss Jessie could not play cards: but she talked

to the sitters-out, who, before her coming, had been rather inclined to be

cross. She sang, too, to an old cracked piano, which I think had been a

spinet in its youth. Miss Jessie sang, "Jock of Hazeldean" a little out of

tune; but we were none of us musical, though Miss Jenkyns beat time,

out of time, by way of appearing to be so.

It was very good of Miss Jenkyns to do this; for I had seen that, a

little before, she had been a good deal annoyed by Miss Jessie Brown's

unguarded admission (A PROPOS of Shetland wool) that she had an

uncle, her mother's brother, who was a shop-keeper in Edinburgh. Miss

Jenkyns tried to drown this confession by a terrible cough - for the

Honourable Mrs Jamieson was sitting at a card-table nearest Miss Jessie,

and what would she say or think if she found out she was in the same

room with a shop-keeper's niece! But Miss Jessie Brown (who had no

tact, as we all agreed the next morning) WOULD repeat the information,

and assure Miss Pole she could easily get her the identical Shetland wool

required, "through my uncle, who has the best assortment of Shetland

goods of any one in Edinbro'." It was to take the taste of this out of our

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mouths, and the sound of this out of our ears, that Miss Jenkyns

proposed music; so I say again, it was very good of her to beat time to

the song.

When the trays re-appeared with biscuits and wine, punctually at a

quarter to nine, there was conversation, comparing of cards, and talking

over tricks; but by-and-by Captain Brown sported a bit of literature.

"Have you seen any numbers of 'The Pickwick Papers'?" said he.

(They we're then publishing in parts.) "Capital thing!"

Now Miss Jenkyns was daughter of a deceased rector of Cranford;

and, on the strength of a number of manuscript sermons, and a pretty

good library of divinity, considered herself literary, and looked upon any

conversation about books as a challenge to her. So she answered and

said, "Yes, she had seen them; indeed, she might say she had read them."

"And what do you think of them?" exclaimed Captain Brown.

"Aren't they famously good?"

So urged Miss Jenkyns could not but speak.

"I must say, I don't think they are by any means equal to Dr Johnson.

Still, perhaps, the author is young. Let him persevere, and who knows

what he may become if he will take the great Doctor for his model?"

This was evidently too much for Captain Brown to take placidly; and I

saw the words on the tip of his tongue before Miss Jenkyns had finished

her sentence.

"It is quite a different sort of thing, my dear madam," he began.

"I am quite aware of that," returned she. "And I make allowances,

Captain Brown."

"Just allow me to read you a scene out of this month's number,"

pleaded he. "I had it only this morning, and I don't think the company

can have read it yet."

"As you please," said she, settling herself with an air of resignation.

He read the account of the "swarry" which Sam Weller gave at Bath.

Some of us laughed heartily. I did not dare, because I was staying in

the house. Miss Jenkyns sat in patient gravity. When it was ended,

she turned to me, and said with mild dignity -

"Fetch me 'Rasselas,' my dear, out of the book-room."

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Cranford1CranfordCranford2CHAPTERI-OURSOCIETYINthefirstplace,CranfordisinpossessionoftheAmazons;alltheholdersofhousesaboveacertainrentarewomen.Ifamarriedcouplecometosettleinthetown,somehowthegentlemandisappears;heiseitherfairlyfrightenedtodeathbybeingtheonlymanintheCranfordeveningparties,orheisaccou...

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