Pakenham History : Joseph Alfred Hardcastle MP And Nether Hall

Part 4 - Edward O'Malley

8
1. Winifred Hardcastle

Wednesday 10 March 1869
Some one came to Sawbridge Wells by morning train. I went down to the station to meet him with Miss Davis, Kate and May, dressed in my (only) black velvet bonnet with primroses in them, seal skin jacket and velveteen dress, small purple and black stripes, and grebe collar and muff.(80) In the afternoon we went for a walk together, taking an open carriage part of the way to the High Rocks, which reminded me strongly of Schandau and Sächische Switzerland in general. We walked back, running away in one place to avoid as we thought the Edward Hoares, meeting a school of boys and walking on the high ground near Rudall. In the evening they all went to church, and we sent Kate and May to Eliza, and I told Edward why Papa sent me a telegram wishing to see me. We talked over the dining-room fire then in the drawing room. Then they came home and Bessie. We also talked for a short time after the others went up to bed. The next day we went together to London and he saw me off by the express at Shoreditch Station.

(80) With grebe feathers.

I staid at Nether Hall for a week and then came to Manchester, where I am now writing, via London, where I spent a night going to Mrs Gladstone's Assembly. That was Wednesday 17 March. The next morning Edward and I talked all the morning. I remember standing by the window and his getting up quickly off his chair and leaning his face against the fastening part of the window. I also remember standing with my elbow in the corner of the mantelpiece, my head turned away towards the looking glass. Edward came to fetch me in a cab and we had to change the luggage on to a hansom he was so late. He arrived just one minute before the train started. We went to Peterborough and I have not seen him since.

God thou knowest my feebleness. Thou knowest and seeest my nothingness: that I am not quick, nor spirituelle, nor piquante, nor handsome, nor even good-looking. I think a very repulsive face. It is so plain; how can he love me, I wonder? I am not envious, but I have been shown the goodly pearl. I have sold all I possess to buy that pearl and if it is not given me …

Break thou deep vase of chilling tears that grief has shaken into frost.(81)

(81) Alfred Tennyson, In Memoriam, 4, lines 11-12.

Hard, dry, cold, stiff, frozen, frost, age frost, forever? No. Christ's blood is warm and will melt it; his love is pure and that that will break but for him then – dead to his world beside. God, my times are and have been all along in thy hands but I must have all or give all or NONE.

Well, I staid at Manchester from then to 3 April, when we went to Lytham. Bessie and I sharing a room.

Monday 5 April 1869
Edward came to spend a week at Lytham, which he did and we went out every day, either a walk on the sand hills or else in a boat twice or sitting on the pier. We left Lytham together 12 April, Monday, and settled in London again hard at work until 17 June, which is the day I have fixed in my own mind.

Tuesday 13 April 1869, to Chesham Street.
I think it has been given me.

Thursday 15 April 1869
I wish I had got ink, for I have something to write which ought to be written with an iron pen on marble. It is about Miss Campbell.(82) I have dined there tonight and seen her for the first time in her new position as my father's future wife. Oh how strange do things seem; but no soliloquising. (How odd it is. I could write for ever about thoughts connected with her and even most close and heart's thoughts of my own; but there is one great subject I never have been able to write yet about. I suppose it is because the greater the planet, and the larger its orbit round the sun, the longer the dawn is, but the day is longer too, all is so great about that my heart is too full for words, like a bottle choke full of water). But she is an angel sent from God; and now I feel as though I must be always all the rest of my life be saying in a roaring voice, and urging and exhorting my father, brother and sisters to give her her due. Do you think it would be the least good if I was to begin now saying out loud: she is so good, give her what she deserves, but I can't, so it's no use thinking of it, but what shall I do? This I do do, give her all my poor little trembling but very loving heart. Oh dear, I have given my heart so often, but never mind: it is a sacred fire and will not shrink if all the altar flames in the world were lighted from it; nay, not if the universe itself were set alight from its tiny spark. I am devoted to her from this moment. God help me and more especially Mary and Emily to devote that devotion to her all my life with giving thanks.

(82) Mary Scarlett Campbell (1827-1916) married Joseph Alfred Hardcastle, at St George's, Hanover Square, on 8 July 1869.

Thursday 6 May 1869
Although I am giddy with sleep and weakness in consequence of the awful earache I had last night, I must not forget one of the happiest days of my life. Last night sitting in the dining room, he in that low wicker chair, I on the fender stool, the long talk when I was dressed to go to the Gladstones (my ear getting gradually worse and worse). The folding of the hands and also what he said. The only thing to settle the happiness of our lives, what God is – full, all. Then today after lunch sitting in the dining room, I on the wicker chair, he on the stool. Go not happy day from the smiling earth.

Friday 28 May 1869
There have been many ups and downs. And it is all passing away, and the sweetest day of all, the seal of all is coming very soon. But I want to remember a few things. First, today has been one of experiences. In the morning I felt down, but struggled well against it and quite conquered it, and was most happily playing a Schubert sonata with Mary, when Papa came in, and he talked a long time to me about the settlement, that is the security, which is the mooted question now.

What he said was that he already considered a slight had been thrown on him by any doubt of the security being good being entertained (altho' by the bye I don't see there is any security at all when it is only my old share pure and simple, just as it was before; only 4½ per cent for certain on it if it does not fail altogether). If it be worth more, Henry pockets it or pays for repairs; if it makes less, I must take the loss. Then he assured me solemnly that it was as good security as consols and not trade. Then he said nothing should persuade him to advise Henry to budge an inch. As the O'Malleys mean to stick to better security, heaven knows what will ensue. But I know one thing that is and will ensue. I trust Edward and his father. I trust his love, his judgement, his business capacity and his father's, and this I know: it is not the money Edward cares about. My heart and soul and life are his.

Why should my father get from me less love than heretofore? I love Mary and Emily as much, nay more. Why then not him? Because I am ceasing to trust him and, whenever he speaks to me, I know he thinks me a bore and he does not love me. But I shall always love him because I cannot help it. Mine is a love of slowish growth, but when grown stiff and strong, faithful and abiding.

Now a few more sweet and lovely things to tell of. Four names I have, so that I bring the four events easily to my memory. Confidence, Love and Happiness, then comes the World.

Confidence. Sunday morning trying to go to church at Westminster Abbey, then Whitehall Chapel, finally ending up at St Martin's. Do I remember all up Parliament Street and then home by the Mall: I was taught and learnt the existence and necessary presence of Confidence, complete full and entire.

Love. I think that was the day I had earache (see back) and the folding the hands together in prayer. It is the beginning and end. As I said, God is love.

Happiness. I was sorely vexed one day in thinking how I feared I should never be really happy because I should sometimes wish I had every luxury I saw others had. I think this was after calling at the Thomas Brasseys. But he taught me, and the depths of my heart learnt. There are doubtless additions most valuable and charming when possessed; but (old saying, but when one has felt it comes quite, and so true) that will not give happiness. The Queen on her throne may have crosses as sharp hard and bitter as any in our position. Only love and a heart as God would have it can give real happiness for pleasure and happiness are two things. One the evanescent colour on the butterfly's wing; the other the light straight from heaven. This was walking up Curzon Street.

Then the last, after Mrs Bagwell had been calling on me one day, I felt a prospect of being a star or even only a bright member of first-rate London society!(83) And I told him as I do everything, so he taught me and my heart learnt that who I was taking for a husband. He said (sitting at the table facing the sofa): 'You are taking a poor man, an obscure man, a young man (but I do mean to do something, though)', which always comes in sotto voce. 'Will you have me as I am?' And my whole soul answered and the heavens recorded that I will, I will.

17 June 1869
Wedding at St George's, Hanover Square.
Wednesday, Edward and Winifred, and Callingham,(84) left London for Dover to the Lord Warden Hotel where the paint smelt awful and made us all ill.

(83) Her hopes of the World.
(84) Elizabeth Callingham, lady's maid.

9
2. Edward O'Malley

Tuesday, 8 October 1868
Bury ball from Ampton, danced and talked with Winnie and Mary Hardcastle all the evening.(85)

9 October 1868
Back to Cromer, whilst there I wrote Joseph Hoare's address for him, to the electors of Manchester.

15 October 1868
Began house to house canvassing at Bedford – most frightfully tiring work.(86)

(85) Edward O'Malley's Diary, National Library of Ireland, 21696/9
(86) Edward O'Malley stood unsuccessfully as a Liberal at Bedford.

Father was now asked to stand for Finsbury against Alderman Lusk and McCullagh Towers, and he issued his address. The list of his committee filled three or four columns of the Standard. To be near his canvassing and meetings, and while our house in Lowndes Street was bring painted, he and mother had lodgings at 13 Woburn Place, a regular old-fashioned house not without its special charm. He is in the hands of his committee and of one, Soutor or Sutor, I think – a leader and most active canvasser, who had a shop in Cheapside. He was well supported by the leading men of all sorts, including the Rector of Islington, and he attended meetings without number. I could not, of course, go to many, as I had my own to look after, but I went to one or two and spoke, with George also, at one of them. I proposed a vote of thanks to Mr Twells, the chairman.

Edward O'Malley (left) with mother Emily and brother George

My own canvassing and meetings were going on, and I spoke at all sorts of meetings several times every week. On one occasion Mr Whitbread and his canvassing party met ours, and we were mutually introduced most politely to each other.

Miss Lydia Becker wrote to me about women's votes and I answered her.

On 15 November I went down to stay with Polhill Turner at Howbury, his place in the neighbourhood, and on the morning of the 16th we drove to the nomination. We were met by a great crowd about a mile from the town, who took out the horses and dragged us with prodigious cheering to the hustings, which consisted of three rows of waggons at right angles: the returning officer being in the middle; Whitbread and Howard on his right; and Polhill Turner and myself on his left. We made our speeches, mine being the last, and I tickled the mob by telling them they had had the pleasure of hearing already eleven speeches, 'or rather, I should say, ten speeches and a sermon', which was a shy at a dissenting minister who had seconded Howard in a very lugubrious and sermon-like address. There was much laughter even in the opposition waggons. The show of hands was said to be for our opponents, and the poll was appointed for next day.

At the poll we were badly beaten. Father was also beaten in Finsbury. A few days later he and I went down to record our votes (for he had given me a small qualifying property at Stutton out of the Creeping Hall estate), I at East Bergholt, he in Ipswich, for Cowance and Henniker. Coming back in the evening our train was thrown off the line near Harolds Wood but no harm beyond delay resulted. Sir John Fowler, the great engineer, was in the carriage with us and we discussed the 'accident' with him. So was Colonel Howard Vyse.

In December I went to stay for a day or two for shooting at the Hollands at Benhall. Peto and Sir Henry and Lady Every were staying there.

In January 1869, I went down to Norwich for an election petition in which I was retained along with Uncle Hunter and Sergeant Sleigh for Sir Henry Strachey, Ballantine and Keane being on the other side. We all messed together at the Maid's Head, and I wondered much at the huge tankard of beer which, after Ballantine had only too well drunk, used to follow him up to bed; and yet he got up and came to court perfectly fresh and fit in the morning, daily without fail.

From Norwich I went to Ampton.

20 January 1869: To ball at Ixworth Abbey with Winnie.

21 January 1869: To Meet at Ixworth Abbey and long ride alone.

22 January 1869: Shooting and to Bury ball in evening. A big party in a bus from Ampton.

23 January 1869: To London.

27 January 1869: To Nether Hall.

28 January 1869: Ride with Winnie to Ampton.

29 January 1869: London.2 February 1869: To Nether Hall.

3 February 1869: Ride with Winnie.

17 February 1869: To Lowndes Street.

15 March 1869
To Hawkhurst to stay with old Mrs Hardcastle at New Lodge. Winnie and I walked over to call on Sir John and Lady Herschel at Collingwood and old Sir John Herschel showed me the spots on the sun, or something of that kind, with his telescope in the garden.

5 April 1869
To Lytham, where Winnie was staying with the Edward Hardcastles, and from there we made a trip to Silverdale on the border of the Lake District.

17 June 1869
Married. We went for our honeymoon to Boulogne and Amiens and thence across to Rouen. Whence we went down the Seine to La Bouille, and afterwards to Havre, Frascati's, and thence to Trouville, Hôtel de Paris. Then to Dieppe, Hôtel Royal, and across country to Abbeville and Boulogne and so back to London. And during July and the early part of August I went on circuit and we attended the Hardcastles' wedding.

On 19 August, Winnie and I set off on a long summer tour.