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Gwen Raverat. Period Piece. A Cambridge Childhood
Period Piece. A Cambridge Childhood
Table of Contents
Preface
CHAPTER I
Prelude
My mother was tall and had golden-brown hair and dark blue eyes and such a lovely complexion that people often thought that she was made up; which would of course have been improper
'Sketching is such a nice occupation for a young lady', as they used to say in those days
My father at this time. He is wearing an unnaturally fierce photographic expression. In very early days I was much confused because his beard and the tobacco he smoked seemed to be of exactly the same colour and texture. Did he perhaps smoke his own moustache? His hair was made of a rather darker kind of tobacco
'The Fatigue and Brainwork of Shopping.' Aunt Cara and my mother buying a bonnet
Mr. T., from the photograph which my mother sent to Philadelphia. His hair and beard were considered very attractive, and his legs fortunately don't show here
CHAPTER II
Newnham Grange
Newnham Grange as I first remember it. There was then a railing down the road; later on the windows on each side of the door were built out; otherwise it is little changed. It makes my blood run cold to remember how we used to run, chasing each other, along the top of the nine-foot garden wall, and jump down from that height
The river side of Newnham Grange
The King's Mill (Foster's Mill) from the end of our garden near Silver Street Bridge. From here we used to watch the corn sacks being hoisted up into the Mill, from barges or wagons. The Mill was pulled down in 1928
The view up the river from our windows. Newnham Mill is in the distance. The cows used to ford the river here four times a day, coming and going to and from their pasture on Sheep's Green
Cecilia Beaux making a pastel portrait of my mother under the copper beech tree
The weir, with Foster's Mill, Silver Street Bridge, and Queens' College seen in the distance
CHAPTER III
Theories
THE PARENT IS ALWAYS WRONG
CHAPTER IV
Education
The Génie. Of course this is not what school was really like, but it is what it felt like to me
CHAPTER V
Ladies
The Hermit (Mrs. C.) coming out of the Hermitage. Here you may also see our dog, Sancho, wishing he were the Hermitage dog. He is standing in the road, not on the pavement, just to show how miserable he is
'Music hath charms.' Seen from my mother's bedroom window
Going to the concert. Mrs. C.'s carriage passes us on the bridge
My mother had the first lady's tricycle in Cambridge. Our dog Sancho was horrified to think that anyone belonging to him should ride such an indecent thing
Melbourne assisting Aunt Cara to keep in touch with current events in Cambridge
Paying calls. People, from left to right: Zoë, the pretty bay mare, Melbourne, me (very cross), Aunt Cara, my mother (behind the parasol), Glen the collie dog
Catching the train. Ellis is getting nervous, but my mother refuses to start until she has collected all the things she wants to take with her
CHAPTER VI
Propriety
The conscientious chaperon
Curling her fringe
Love. How ridiculous
The Boat Picnic. 'Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm.'
The ladies, God bless 'em
The dangerous impropriety of Charley's Aunt
Sleeping with relations
'A Policeman's lot.'
CHAPTER VII
Aunt Etty
Uncle Richard has been sent to bed, because Aunt Etty suspects him of having a cold. She is feeling very anxious about him. This is their Ruskin and Morris drawing-room at Kensington Square
Aunt Etty ordering dinner in her patent anti-cold mask
Airing the room. Aunt Etty is keeping guard over Uncle Richard during this dangerous proceeding. She is holding a thermometer in her hand
Janet bringing poor Uncle Richard's porridge
Mrs. Bewick
'I could SWALLOW the Pope of Rome.'
Stinkhorn hunter in full cry
Aunt Bessy in the drawing-room at Down. CHAPTER VIII
Down
Down House. A little game of croquet. Note my mother's style of play
The mulberry tree by the nursery window
Grandmamma in the drawing-room at Down. The chimneypiece was just like that in the picture of Alice going through the Looking Glass. There was the same squiggly gold clock under a glass shade, and there were sweet-smelling cedar-wood spills in the vases. Grandmamma holds her peggywork
Aunt Bessy 'gathering the nosegays'
Visiting the Good Poor. People, from left to right: Charles, Nana, Margaret, Horrid Old Woman, me, Tommy the cat, Poor Old Betsy in bed
The beech tree by day
The beech tree by night
The birthday presents. Frances, me and Bernard
CHAPTER IX
Ghosts and Horrors
The Habitat of the British Tiger (Felis Tigris Britannicus). Note the protective colouring of the stripes. This species is now almost extinct, owing to the progressive abandonment of the use of bed-canopies; just as the draining of marshes has diminished the number of malarial mosquitoes. These tigers used to suffer very much from the occupational disease of Canopy Cramp
The dreadful boys and the poor white hen
The Blind Man
What had happened? I shall never know
CHAPTER X
The Five Uncles
UNCLE WILLIAM
Uncle William at a picture gallery. 'Fine fellow, old Rembrandt.'
UNCLE GEORGE
UNCLE FRANK
The cab had been ordered for 12.20; it was now nearly 12.15, so Uncle Frank said bitterly: 'I have now given up all hope of catching the train.' And after all, he had to wait 35 minutes at the station
UNCLE LENNY
UNCLE HORACE
My grandfather on his horse Tommy. From a photograph. CHAPTER XI
Religion
The first prayer. 'Please, God, let Miss Ratcliffe be dead before we get to Dancing Class.'
God
Frances (left) converting me under the bridge
The topmost floor of the Granary. A place of refuge on a Sunday morning
CHAPTER XII
Sport
Pirates. Charles and I are in the boat under the granary wall. Margaret and Sancho have been marooned on a desert island in the distance. In the boat can be seen the keg of rum indispensable to piracy
The family outing. Charles, my mother, Sancho, me and my father. Charles said afterwards: 'The body is too fat and the arms are too short.' (My mother's body and his own arms.) Sancho is saying: 'How fast they go; it must be 5 or 6 miles an hour. But of course they never think of me.'
The four-in-hand, undecided whether to go up the Backs or round by Newnham. In the distance may be seen the lame crossing-sweeper and Sidgwick Avenue. Sancho is saying: 'Of course they'll all be killed, and then they'll say it was my fault. How unjust people always are.'
Poor Pamela; the wolves are getting very near
Sancho and me in the garden. I am saying: 'Oh, Sancho, I do think you might let me have one of my own biscuits. You know you've had five already.' Sancho is saying: 'But I hardly ever have anything to eat, and I did think you were a kind person.' He ate enormously and was much too fat anyhow
CHAPTER XIII
Clothes
The Torturers. The daily dressmaker is on the left; my mother in her most implacable mood kneels on the right
Good manners
'She uses Face Powder! Can she be really Respectable?'
CHAPTER XIV
Society
The Dancing Class. Oh no, my dear contemporaries, I know very well that neither you, nor your mothers, nor your nurses, nor even Miss Ratcliffe herself, ever looked like this. This is a Psychological picture; it is what it felt like to me at the time. You are none of you in the picture; nor am I, because I have just been sent out of the room in disgrace
L'Entente Cordiale. Margaret is carefully noting every intonation of the Ambassador's voice, with a view to 'doing' him later on. I am most miserably conscious of my spectacles and the hairpins sticking straight into my head, and of all my horrible brand-new grown-up clothes. Monsieur Cambon is wondering if he can make his list of immoral animals last out till lunch-time
Heroic survivors of the picnic. Left to right: Uncle Frank, Uncle Horace, Aunt Etty, Aunt Ida, my mother. My father has shamefully given in already, unable to face any more hardships, and has started off alone to walk home. Aunt Ida alone has still a gallant smile glued to her lips; the others are just enduring. The trees of Byron's Pool can be seen in the distance
