VI

THE BLACKDOWN HILLS

DIARY 1862-1869

HE visit to Craschnitz brought one important and

TH

unexpected result-an attachment sprang up between William Hanbury and Maria, eldest daughter of Count von der Recke, leading eventually to their betrothal and marriage-a precious link with the beloved family at Craschnitz. While this was pending, it naturally occupied much of Charlotte's thoughts, and finds a place in her diary, always with the ever-recurring burden of her desire that the will of the Lord be done.

Ford, April 10th, 1862. To-day I am thirty-two. Here sits by me my beloved mother. Oh, what a treasury of happiness is there in her being here to talk with, sit with, live with!

Good Friday. This day, in 1861, William and I walked and gathered primroses and violets for Maria in the morning.

April 28th. My last, last night with my beloved brother in our own home.

July 31st. It is my dear William's weddingday. Truly, what hath God wrought! Thankfulness fills my heart, yet trembling joy.

Dear S. J.

G

and all her seven are with us. Cor is at Craschnitz for the wedding. It has been a deeply felt day. At half-past five I harnessed the pony and rode to the valleys below Clayhidon. [At family worship] Mamma offered beautiful and touching prayer for "her beloved son," and on the transaction of the day. My dear parents so felt all about dear William and Maria, Father feeling so sweet and comforting an impression this morning; we could hardly separate after breakfast for talking of them.

This evening our cousins from Linden came. Dear Carrie played us several pieces, and Freddy sang "Childhood's Hours," and we had a happy evening. And now life is enriched with a beloved sister, thanks be to my Lord; a beloved brother made happy, and I so rich in gaining her!

Dec. 31st. [After thankful retrospect].

Here comes in little Freddy. He is a dear good boy, with a joyous, loving disposition. We play at chess and are great friends.

May 7th, 1863. It is William's birthday. Here he and dear Maria sit by me in the dining-room, he chatting with weary eyes after his terrible accident in letting off fireworks.

Aug. 9th. The last Sunday at the dear home before I go to France and Switzerland.

The beloved parents are so sorry I hard for me.

go;

it is very

Just now some of our dear village people at Clayhidon are to be baptized. May the presence

and blessing of our Lord be with them and abide with them.

Good Friday, 1864. The evening is to be spent with those bright, happy cottagers who have found Jesus and Heaven.

My birthday. My arm broken in two or three places through the bite of my horse. What a new kind of day! But oh, I am so happy to-day! I was down and sad-hearted, not for the arm-more for other griefs; then came my good friend Brealey, and helped me to see that nothing is for evil to us. Certainly I do rejoice in his year here-my

chaplain, dear Mamma calls him.

June 11th. To-morrow I go to Folkestone, then London.

Oct. 20th. And again back to the beloved home. What blessings has God given-happy fellowship with beloved friends, joining closer to His Church by Baptism and the Holy Communion, a beloved friend in dear Mr. Pennefather, kind friends in Mr. Mackenzie and Baptist Noel, such joyous weeks with dear Cor and S. J., friendship with others, and even a pony in the stall!

This pony was a very important addition to her life, enabling her to ride or drive over the hills at pleasure, visiting the poor cottagers for whom she did and felt so much.

Nov. 30th. More and more my Linden cousins are beloved as dear sisters and brothers to me. This day week Edward Tylor and I rode together.

How I did enjoy to be with him! We crossed on to the rough heath, cantering-no, trotting carefully-when, to my horror, down went his horse before me, and Edward I could not see. All the worst rushed to my mind-he was rolled on, bones broken, hurt never to recover; but he jumped up. "Oh! are you hurt?" I could hardly ask for the mortal terror of the moment; but he smiled and shook himself, and said, "Oh, no! not at all," and with the most thankful heart I turned with him home.

Christmas Day. The servants sing in the kitchen, with the holly and mistletoe all round, and holly in the dining-room all telling of the happy Christmas time-I almost think happier than ever before.

Feb. 5th, 1865. To-day is the birthday of Mr. Pennefather, my beloved friend. He is a help; it is an added responsibility to have so dear, so heavenly a friend.

On Friday I drove the pony to Hole. Had tea at R's nice cottage round the wood fire-interesting talk, happy hearts, kind hospitality—it was very pretty. It is so interesting to join these honest country folks in their fresh, unsophisticated life. Well may Thackeray say, " Rare is the working-man's friendship."

Good Friday. This week has been so full I could not even write on my birthday. I walked to church. Very touching were the sung psalms; very