The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister

by Helena Whitbread

  Tuesday 10 November [Elvington]

  Walked along the river side (the Derwent)… Came up to bed at 10.20 & Ellen staid talking till 11.35… Ellen & I had a long confab. Told her I was often in low spirits & she owned I had some reason – my father’s managing his estate so ill & living in that quere [sic] sort of way at Weighton. I said I often wanted a companion – someone to take care of me & now she was gone there was nobody I cared about. Said she, very innocently, ‘Why did you let me marry?’ ‘What could I do? You never asked me’. ‘Well,’ said she, ‘That is true enough. I never asked anybody.’ She seemed to feel a good deal interested about me. Said I was odd but hoped I would not change. I had before told her of having walked two or three times with Miss Browne, that I thought her a nice [girl] & had some thoughts of calling on her. She bade me tell her if I did do so & also if I heard of anyone whom I could go to for a little while for the sake of study, I having also told her my great wish to pursue my studies with someone or other for another year, Mr Knight & his son, James, being both out of the question.

  Wednesday 11 November [Market Weighton]

  ¼ hour tête-à-tête with Ellen & at 11½, went to pack. Quite ready at 1. Ellen then came to me & we sat down to luncheon & had near an hour’s tête-à-tête. ‘You never knew me so well before, Ellen, as you do now.’ ‘No & I like you better.’ ‘I am afraid I cannot say so. I loved you so much from the first, I hardly left room to like you better. But you said it would not last.’ ‘I remember I did, for I could not understand why you should like me, I was so unlike you – so uncongenial.’ She pressed me very much to accept her grey cloth cloak & seemed really fond of me… The groom drove me in the gig… Got to Market Weighton a little after 5… My father & Marian looking well. Had a mutton chop & tea.

  Wednesday 18 November [Market Weighton]

  Walked about in the garden. At 12 set off walking with my father & got back at 4½… Called at all my father’s 3 farms & walked full 7 miles. Today, what they call the statutes – for hiring servants – the town full of people & stirrings. A sort of merry andrew [clown or buffoon performing in public] shew in the market hill… Just before tea, backgammon with my father.

  On Saturday 21 November, Anne left Market Weighton for York where she stayed with the Duffins at the Red House. Miss Marsh was in constant attendance and Anne employed her time by paying social calls, particularly to the Belcombe family, walking around York, and writing her journals.

  Saturday 21 November [York]

  Packing most of the morning. My father asked how my pocket was & gave me five pounds besides four sixpences for change, having paid my fare, five shillings, & three shillings for postage. Left Market Weighton about 6½ & got to the Tavern, York, at 9… The people at the Tavern very civil. The waiter immediately shewed me into a private room &, for the short time I staid, lighted wax-lights. Got into Micklegate about 20 minutes after 9. The Duffins very glad to see me. Miss Marsh staid till near 11. Went upstairs at 11. Put by my things, that I did not get into bed till one. No fire which [made] the room look rather comfortless.

  Wednesday 2 December [York]

  At 11¼, Mr Duffin & I called for Miss Marsh. Went to the national school (in part of the same building as the Manor School,14 the great room that used to [be] called King James’s drawing-room). 449 boys, Mr Danby. Everything in excellent order. 4 or 5 of the boys in Hutton’s mensuration. Mr Danby 1 of the best masters at any school on this plan. To the national school, Merchant Taylor’s hall in Aldwark. 239 girls, Mrs Danby, wife to the master at the boys’ school. She had everything also in good order & seems as clever in her department as her husband in his. 1 of her own children, not quite 3, was knitting a stocking. To the Bluecoat school, Peasholme Green. 18 neat beds (without any curtams) in the sleeping room, plaster floor, and 56 boys – Mr Ward. Most of the boys were at their looms weaving chiefly coarse calico when we went in, which was just before dinner. To the Merchant Hall in Fossgate, an odd-looking old building. There are 2 large rooms, in 1 of which the Bible Society holds its meetings. There is a charity here for 5 old widows & 5 old men. The widows have a living-room with 5 little fireplaces in it, & a sleeping ditto with 5 beds, placed round 3 sides of the room, as it were in wood closets each just large enough to hold 1 bed, and 4s. a month. The old men have their living room divided with boards into 5 equal compartments with each a little fireplace, table & chair, leaving a wide passage along the front of them that admitted light for the whole through one or 2 windows. They had also 5 beds in 1 sleeping room & seemed, on the whole, more comfortable & more contented than the women… Tho’ today is the funeral of the queen,15 yet there is a dinner party at the Richard Townends’ at 5 & a rout in the evening… A rout also at the Revd Mr Dixon’s, Minster Yard. As we walked along in the morning, all the shop windows shut, but hardly any of private houses, tho’ we have been told they were all shut during service (which began at 3) at the Minster. There was service also at Belfries – but at no other church. The Coney Street bells rang a dumb peal at intervals during the day. But as for the people, I must say, no one appeared to care anything about it. Mr Duffin dined at the Townends’ & Miss Marsh went in the evening at 8. I walked with her & went to the Belcombes’. The streets full of people returning from the different chapels for, to the shame of the church clergy, there was service at, I believe, all the different places of worship in the city… Sat talking to… Lou. Said I was vapourish, could not live comfortably without a female friend & companion… Said Lou, ‘You should not have let Mariana marry.’ ‘That, Lou, I would not have prevented for worlds, unless I had worlds to give in exchange.’ Mr Duffin & Miss Marsh were to call for me. We were just sending to see if they had forgotten me when they arrived at near 1.

  Thursday 3 December [York]

  Went with Mr Duffin into the Shambles, where he made a contract with butcher Wilson to have the choice of the best joints of beef, mutton, veal & now & then, if he chose, a joint of pork at 7½d. per lb. Went thro’ Thursday market & came out by the Tavern, down Coney St. & home at 4. At 6½, the Duffins & Miss Marsh & I went to tea & supper at the Swanns’. Played 2 pools at commerce… The supper, sweetbreads white, pheasant, scalloped oysters, mashed potatoes out of small moulds, hot apple-tarts, & stewed pears. Afterwards, toasted cheese. Got home at 10½.

  Tuesday 15 December [York]

  Miss Salmond came in & brought some ripe strawberries & a bunch of ripe raspberries just come out of the kitchen garden at Swinton, nr Bedale… The strawberries looked like chillies & were a good size – the raspberries small. Met the Milnes, Anne Belcombe & Lou at the end of the passage. Lou went with me to Bramley’s in Blake St, to order a pair of boots to try if he can do for me instead of Hornby to whom I had just paid 21s. per pair. She & I then walked thro’ the crowded horse fair, out of Micklegate Bar, as far as the white house. Took another turn, then left her to join her sisters, who were before us. Got home at 3½. Dined at the Belcombes’ at 5. Mr Duffin & Miss Marsh came at 7 to play Boston… When I said, as we walked home tonight, how much I would like to stay two or three months, Mr Duffin never said a word. I cannot make out whether he would like to have me a winter or not. I have more than once given him an opportunity of saying but he never uttered.

  Thursday 17 December [York]

  Lou & I got off a walking by ourselves. Walked to the 2nd milestone on the Malton Rd, & got back at 1¾… Talked of M—’s match, I persisting it had answered, & about the state of my affections, that I must have somebody to dote upon. That, however I was changed in appearance, my heart was warm as ever. Lou plainly said she liked me &, in telling my sentiments towards her, when I talked of esteem & high opinion, she said she would rather have my love than esteem. I told her she did not understand my love & that she was too cold for me. She owned she appeared so but said she could convince me to the contrary but would not – felt she could not tell me. She fancied from my conversation, I wished to invite her to Shibden (in reality, no such thing ever entered my head) & said nothing
would give her more pleasure but she could not leave home.

  Saturday 19 December [Halifax]

  Got comfortably washed & dressed, buckled up my basket, ate a crust of bread, & drank a glass of Vidonia, & was in the Highflier which drove off from the door as it struck 6… To Leeds, where we arrived about 9 – took no breakfast – arrived at Halifax about 1½… Spent the afternoon & evening in conversation. Came upstairs at 9. From then till 12, putting by my things.

  Wednesday 23 December [Halifax]

  Set off my usual walk up Royston Rd etc. Miss Browne joined me as I passed. From her quickness she must have been on the watch… She looked very pretty but I begin to think that, except her good looks & her character for amiability, she has little to boast, little to say for herself, & a stupidish companion. She seems innocent & unknowing as to the ways of the world. I wonder if I can ever, or shall ever, mould her to my purpose.

  Friday 25 December [Halifax]

  We all walked to morning church. Mr West of Southowram preached… Afterwards wished us ‘A merry Xmas’. All staid the sacrament. I fear I never received it with less feeling of reverence. Was thinking more of Miss Browne than anything else. She was there opposite me at the altar table.

  Saturday 26 December [Halifax]

  Went down the north parade & sat ½ hour at Cross-hills. The whole kit of them at home & vulgar as ever. Miss Caroline’s head like a porcupine. Surely Mrs Greenwood must drink… During supper, fired the pistols.

  Monday 28 December [Halifax]

  My aunt & I set off to Halifax at 2½, she having, just before, gathered out of the garden for my Aunt Lister, a nosegay of 15 different sorts of flowers – laurustinus, chrysanthemums, yellow jasmine, pink-tree flower, dwarf passion-flower, heart’s-ease, double primrose, purple stock, auricula, sweet allison, Venus’s looking-glass, gentianella, roses, larkspur, & pheasant’s eye – & 3 or 4 more sorts might have been added, such has been this uncommon season.

  1819

  Friday 8 January [Halifax]

  Miss Browne met me at their front gate… I was rather in a complimentary strain & rather more inclined to be a little jocose than usual. I asked if she was still afraid of me. She said she could not help feeling a little so sometimes… She told me she thought I had a very penetrating countenance. She did not observe it so much at first, but she had thought so of late and very often did not like to look at me. I said I was, at some times, more anxious to be penetrating than at others. ‘Oh, oh,’ thought I to myself, then, ‘I have sometimes looked rather unutterable things.’ I wonder what she feels. Thinking of me so often & not liking to look at me augurs well. I said I should always be happy to give her any information [in] my power & begged she would always ask me anything she wished to know. I said I would notice everything she said that wanted correction.

  Saturday 9 January [Halifax]

  [Miss Browne] came about four… Walked past Clare Hall1… Told her when she did not hear a person, not to say ‘Ma’am’. Asked her not to cover her face so much with the cap under her bonnet & shewed her how to shake hands, that is, not to keep shaking, or hold one’s hand so long… She wonders why I like her so much. I begin to wonder too, for I fear she is stupidish & has very little in her – no warmth, I fear. I told her never to mention the observations I made to her, as they were made for her alone… Never did I feel as little satisfied with her… I thought as I came along, Well, at all events, I will never call on her. What sort of a connection am I forming without anything to repay me? I could almost see her tomorrow at the lecture & excuse myself on Tuesday. I seem well inclined to think & care less about her in future. I have seen a great deal of her lately & they say, ‘Give a dog rope enough & he will hang himself.’

  Thursday 14 January [Halifax]

  After supper, gave my father, to take to Marian, a green & yellow shot Italian gauze evening gown, a muslin ditto, a blue satin waist, a plaiting of buff satin riband for the bottom of a gown, a light drab kersey, more spencers trimmed with swansdown, very little worn – got for M—’s wedding, & a pair of cleaned, white kid shoes.

  Saturday 16 January [Halifax]

  All the morning, preparing clean stays, covering the steel busk, etc. & putting my hoard, forty-four pounds & Tib owes me six, which will make fifty. I never was so rich before.

  Sunday 17 January [Halifax]

  Sat up downstairs talking to my uncle about making his will… I said I should wish to have all the estate here, ultimately. ‘What, all?’ said my uncle, smiling. ‘Yes, all. Isabella will be left in the entail for all the Langton estate & if I had any power, I should hereafter leave all to one.’

  Saturday 30 January [Halifax]

  In the afternoon, at 3¼, down the old bank to the library… walked up & down… with Miss Browne ¾ hour. She said she had been in great trouble, had almost cried her eyes [out] & often thought of telling me but could not make up her mind to do so till this afternoon. Mr William Kelly, who has lately been staying at Westfield, & she are mutually attached &, it seems, have been ever since she was staying at his father’s, 3 or 4 years ago. Mrs Browne is quite against it & Kallista cannot determine to give him up… She is in love, it seems, & this gives me little hope of making much impression on her in the amatory way. Besides, I have not enough opportunity & dare not make any serious tempting offer. This would never do for me. Besides, penchant is of a lighter nature.

  Monday 1 February [Halifax]

  Wore my night cap both all this moming & the 2 preceding ones on account of shading my right eye which, from some cause or other, is becoming unable to bear any draught of air, & I am obliged to sit with my door open on account of my chimney’s smoking.

  Tuesday 2 February [Halifax]

  At 3½, down the new bank to the library… Went… to the Greenwoods’, Cross-hills. Staid tea, as was my intention, thinking I ought to do so as they would fancy from my never going, I was offended. Mrs Greenwood & all the 5 young ladies at home. The 2 youngest scarce spoke a word. Mrs Browne called there this morning. A repetition of her conversation about cooking & eating, etc. An account of Miss Browne’s unbecoming dress at the Assembly. A sort of quiz upon her excellence & practice in domestic matters, spoke of her in a sort of general style of ridicule. Her unassuming quietness & constant attention to propriety cannot be supposed to suit the Greenwoods. Account of a party 10 days ago at Miss Pollard’s. Played ‘rural games’, French blind man’s buff, etc. Mrs Pollard (of Greenhill) set as a forfeit, that Miss Greenwood should sit down on the floor with the man she liked best & they should kiss ‘wheelbarrow fashion’. All this going on when the servants brought in wine & cakes!! The Greenwoods said they heard I was going to be married to Mr George Priestley. They little know me. Talking afterwards of society, I said how very much I preferred ladies to gentlemen &, when each was to choose a walking companion for each day in the week, I said Miss Browne should be mine at least six days out of the seven. Married ladies were not to be named. The Greenwoods vulgar as ever. I felt thoroughly ashamed of my company and upon the whole, I know not when I have paid a visit that has displeased me so entirely. It was a few minutes after 10 by our clock when I got home. I could not resist saying I thought, without my mind changed, I should not drink tea at the Greenwoods again in a hurry. I know not how it is, I can less than ever get over the vulgarity of all the set of them & shall waste few hours at Cross-hills in future. Having had no dinner except a little tea & muffins, had a couple of slices of cold veal & some bread & butter just before I came upstairs. The Miss Greenwoods, while they were in town this afternoon, met Mrs Mitchell in great distress about her son, Daniel, concerning whom there had been a letter from London to say he was so much worse (of a fever caught in the dissecting room) that he could not survive many hours. 2 of the students were already dead of the same kind of fever caught at the same time & place.

  Wednesday 17 February [Halifax]

  Met the Misses Caroline & Margaret Greenwood (Cross-hills) ½ way between Westfield & King Cross. They did not
seem inclined to stop, therefore just spoke in passing. I think I shall have no more notes from Miss Caroline Greenwood. I shall probably owe this good thing to the shew of my preference for Miss Browne. She came out to meet me – took 2 or 3 turns with her up & down ‘Kallista’ Lane… said she would meet me tomorrow at the library or in passing their house.

  Thursday 18 February [Halifax]

  At 3½, down the old bank to the library. Staid only a few minutes. As I was going out, met Miss Browne at the door… She said she had thought of me last night but so much that it prevented her sleeping & she must not think so much of me after going to bed in future. Miss Bessie Staveley asked her how she & I agreed together. ‘Why, certainly, we did not quarrel.’ Said Miss Staveley, ‘I know you are of a peaceable disposition, but Miss Lister is very whimsical & I expect soon to see you not speak to one another.’ I replied I did not think that likely but time would tell… I said I seldom did a thing without consideration but when I did, once made up my mind as to the propriety of a thing, I was not easily turned from it. I thought Miss Staveley alluded to Miss Caroline Greenwood when she said I was whimsical. She asked Miss Greenwood some time ago if she was not jealous… & I fancied she really was so now, but gently hinted it was no fault of mine; for whatever she might have said or thought, I had never made any professions & only went there four or five times a year, which I should always do as their father had been very civil to mine about some business. At all events, I thought Miss Browne had nothing to fear. She had thought over last night what Miss Staveley said. Owned she would be sorry to find it true & said she had strange thoughts but could not help thinking she wished I had been a gent; that perhaps she should not have known me. ‘Oh, oh,’ thought I. I replied perhaps she had not more strange thoughts than other people & that, if I had been a gent, I thought Mr Kelly would have had a poor chance. She had wondered what I saw in her & thought perhaps it was her vanity that made her believe I liked her. ‘No, no,’ said I. ‘I have given you reason enough.’ Mentioned my going to the lectures on purpose to see her, walking up from church with her, etc., which surely she could not mistake. I had often wondered what she thought of all this. She somehow brought on the subject of my calling. Said they talked to her about it at home & her mother said she must have very little influence & very little eloquence not to be able to persuade me to call. She mentioned what I had said about my uncle & aunt (allowed to be good). Her mother answered I might go in sometimes & get a cup of tea. It would help me up the bank. She wondered I stood so much upon formalities. I smiled to myself but gravely said I had often thought of the thing & wondered whether, as I did not call, she would still continue our walks together, adding that I felt convinced, if she was the sensible girl I took her to be, she would never notice the thing… ‘If, however,’ said I, ‘you would like to give up our walks, whatever self-denial it may be to me, I will do anything in the world you like & should I not see you for twenty years, I shall neither forget you, nor feel less regard than I do at present.’ She thanked me. ‘But long before that time you will be Mrs Kelly & settled in Glasgow. Then, of course it will be different, yet I only wish you happy &, tho’ I would rather, if possible, be in some degree instrumental to your happiness myself, for we all value the work of our own hands, I shall be satisfied to know you are happy, by whatever means.’ Miss Browne; ‘Perhaps you will be disappointed in me. I may turn out very wicked.’ I; ‘That is more likely for me to do, but we have all of us our weak side.’ Miss Browne; ‘I have many.’ I; ‘I fear you have not such an one as I should choose you to have if I could choose. At any rate, I know mine &, tho’ I always endeavour to be guarded at all points, it does not always answer, for one is sometimes taken by surprise & the business all over before one had thought of danger…’ I begged if she ever thought of anything I said or did with displeasure she would name it & hoped she would take all I had said this afternoon as she liked & make the best of it. She said she could not always think what she liked. ‘Sometimes,’ said I, ‘I know you do not know what to think.’ Miss Browne; ‘You are right. You seem to know my thoughts whether I tell them or not.’ I; ‘Well, I care not what Miss Staveley says. I can any time talk away the impression in five minutes.’ Miss Browne; ‘Yes, I think you can. I do not know how it is, you could make anything of me.’ I; ‘Why should you not believe what I say? It is always truth & you only shew your penetration in discriminating it so soon.’ We parted at the top of George St. There were people near & I did not shake hands. I shall explain this on Saturday & say how sorry I was I had not time to set her nearer to me. I see how it is. She begins to like me more than she is, perhaps, aware… I must mind I do not get into a scrape. Wishing I was a gent; I can make her believe anything, etc; bespeaks my influence, & a few more walks & perhaps she will understand her feelings better. She mentioned on the moor my taking off the leather strap put through the handle of my umbrella, which made it look like a gentleman’s. I said I would do if she asked me but not otherwise. She asked & I did it instantly. Surely she must like my society & would be more or less than woman were she unmoved & unpleased by my attentions. She was twenty-five last Thursday week.