Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Z fix its gaze on the earliest incidents of life that can by any possibility be within its reach. Of this dim and shadowy species was a recollection which would at times haunt me like the ill-defined impression of a troubled dream. In my childhood I used to sit and wonder whether the circumstance could ever have possibly occurred-—-or whether it were a mere fancy arising from some unaccount- able freak or aberration of an infantile mind. Methought, however, that this earliest impression of mine was associated with some dark gloomy place—a man fondling me upon his knee, then pressing me to his heart and sobbing bitterly— then a woman taking me from his arms, straining me to her own bosom, and sobbing and weeping with even more convulsive violence than the grief of the other. And after this scene there appeared to be a blank in my existence—until my next im- pressions were associated with my grandfather’s house at Leeds. In that great northern town, and in one of those low quarters which almost exclusively swarm with the poorest members of the manufacturing population—in the midst of a labyrinth of narrow filthy streets, interspersed with huge dingy fac- tories—and beneath an atmosphere almost ever- lastingly ‘blackened by the smoke vomited forth from the giant chimneys that overlooked the whole maze of habitations, — there was that house situated. It was one of the largest in the entire quarter of which I am speaking—and perhaps also the gloomiest. Its dark red-brick front displayed many small windows of the old-fashioned latticed description; and there was a heavy pointed wooden portico, supported by two very meagre pillars. The house was large enough for the accommodation of a numerous family; and yet it only contained four persons. These were my grandfather, the housekeeper, myself, and a wretched drab of a servant-of-all-work. I did not know then—but I have since learnt, and therefore I may as well at once inform the reader —that my grandfather, Mr. Forsyth, had never pursued any ostensible profession: but he lent money and dis- counted bills—though always in small sums; for notwithstanding the extent of his avarice he was afraid of anything in the shape of a great risk, and therefore would never be too speculative. The house was his own property: he had bought it many years back, at a price which would have been cheap for even one of the humblest dwell- ings in the neighbourhood. At the time that he thus purchased it, the house had been long shut up: some dreadful murder had been com- mitted within its walls—its repute was bad— superstition invested it with the darkest terrors— and it was falling into decay, when Mr. Forsyth, availing himself of what he considerea to be an excellent bargain, became its purchaser. If by living in the meanest lodging elsewhere, and letting that house to any one else, my grandfather could have made money, he would have done it: but he knew that no family would dwell in that house—it would have moreover required a con- siderable outlay for reparation — and therefore My. Forsyth continued to inhabit it himself. Two-thirds of the rooms were shut up; and enly just so many were furnished as were re- quired for the use of the inmates. And such fur- miture as it was! A few pounds expended at the ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. meanest broker’s, would have purchased much better articles. A front parlour on the ground- floor served. as the only sitting-room: behind it was a sort of office, where my grandfather kept his books and papers, and transacted his business with the borrowers who called upon him; and an inner door opening from this office, communicated with a room that jutted out into the yard and which served as Mr. Forsyth’s bed-chamber. The house- keeper occupied an upper room; and a smaller chamber opening therefrom, was allotted to my use. The servant-girl’s chamber was higher up still. From all that I have just said, the reader is prepared to learn that Mr. Forsyth was of the most penurious habits; and I thought at the time that he was exceedingly poor. Indeed, like all misers, he was constantly complaining of poverty, and vowing that he should be ruined if anything which he fancied to border upon extravagance were practised. To myself he was much attached: but it was after his own peculiar fashion. He would caress and fondle me—and yet not merely grudge me a toy, but even the means of education. I used to go to a neighbouring day-school, fre- quented by the daughters of respectable trades- men: but my grandfather was constantly grumbling at the payment of the pittance which my tuition thus cost him. Fortunate however was it for me that the dame who kept the school was a worthy good-hearted woman; and she conceived a liking for me. She said that 1 was the most intelligent as well as the most docile of her pupils; and she took a delight in teaching me. I believe she had some little independence of her own, and therefore was not compelled to look too closely to the remu- neration she received frcm the parents or relatives of the girls attending her school. She frequently kept me after school-hours, and regaied me in her parlour—which, by its neatness and comfort, had to me the air of a palace in comparison with the cheerless ill-furnished parlour at home. Perhaps she thought I was half starved; for she took a delight in making me eat the good things which she placed before me. Although my grandfather would pay for no “ extras,” but merely wanted me to have what he called “a plain education,” yet the worthy lady—(her name was Mrs, Kelly, and I am glad to have an opportunity of making honourable mention of it)—put me into the drawing-class and also into the music-class; and she allowed me to learn dancing. My grandfather was delighted: he would gladly have suffered me to acquire all possible accomplishments, so long as he was not called upon to pay for them. Every- thing that he himself or any one belonging to him could get for nothing, was in his estimation an immense gain and a subject for the extremest self-felicitation. Thus, altogether, under the tuition of that worthy and kind-hearted Mrs, Kelly, I received avery tolerable education, em- bellished with some few accompliskments. I did not know what to think of Mrs. Parks, my grandfather’s housekeeper. She was kind enough to me: but I could not help fancying that there was something forced, or rather artificial and hypocritical, in this display of tenderness, and that it was only shown in order to curry favour with Mr. Forsyth, because he himself loved me, IT used to wonder how it was possible for such @ Gomichook ecom