As the 20th century drew on, the story of Ellen, the eldest daughter, began to seem ever sadder and more pointless. The younger generations looked with dismay and disapproval on parents whose daughters' lives disappeared into household drudgery. Ellen Ewing, endeavouring to put the story in its own historical and religious context, wrote [1]
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| Ellen c1867-8 |
Judged by common standards her pleasures had been few … Judged by higher standards, however, her life, all too short as it undoubtedly was, was supremely happy and supremely successful. For her ardently affectionate and unselfish nature found ennobling and satisfying outlets in the love of her parents and of her sisters and brothers … Her life cannot be said to have been sad. Who, then, shall say it was wasted?
Like little Alice, Ellen seems to have been delicate from the beginning. She was born on 7 October 1853, the third child and first daughter. Alice wrote to a friend on 11 March 1861
Ellen, a little over seven, is an interesting child, both in appearance and character. She is a very thoughtful, very sensible, dear child. She loves the name of Jesus, she has such sweet thoughts I often learn from her. Oh pray that these sweet blossomings may be the precursors of fruit to be hereafter borne to the praise and glory of God [2]
Ellen's competence, sense of responsibility and love of her mother meant that she took on her mother's duties when very young. She was not yet eleven when John wrote
Poor Nellie cried in bed last night under the sense of responsibility and want of Mama's counsel and help [3]
She was nearly 13 when Alice wrote to John on 9 July 1866 that she
had to devolve nearly all my maternal duties on dear Nelly … Nelly is invaluable to me and I do not think she feels it any hardship to minister to me. [4]
She was only to ready to please her mother and look after her. She was fifteen when John wrote
Our young ones all seem full of love for Nellie. She makes a very good 'Missus' and it is good practice for her to have some domestic responsibilities thrown upon her, only she should not have too much writing and study at the same time. [5]
Young John's future wife Evelyn Oldenbourg met Ellen for the first time at their school, Ellerslie Ladies' College on Upper Park Road in the select gated community of Victoria Park. She described in her memoirs how a plain, unhealthy-looking girl asked her, with spontaneous friendliness of indescribable charm, for the loan of a pencil. Ellen became her chief friend and they had a great influence on each other. To Evelyn, Ellen "was a noble simple Soul"[6]. She was two years younger than Evelyn, and was very grateful for Evelyn's help with schoolwork, which she found difficult – "Evelyn, you are an angel, barring the petticoats" she exclaimed. Ellen might have felt a little out of her depth at Ellerslie, which was a seriously academic school, one of the new endowed schools for girls modelled on boys' grammar schools.
By this time Ellen's letters show her adoration of her mother. She wrote on 23 February 1870, when she was sixteen
My own beloved Mother,Why did you spoil your sweet, precious letter by that horrid sentence? As if you weren't the cleverest, sweetest, most perfect woman that ever walked the earth!" [7]
There is what can only be described as a blindness on Alice's part to see the effect on Ellen of the responsibilities that she piled on this devoted child, possibly because she felt overwhelmed and Ellen's willing help was so badly needed. Perhaps she had no idea what it might it feel like to be Ellen, being a younger daughter herself.
In April 1870 Ellen had been visiting her new friend Esther Wells, who had come to the family as a governess five years earlier, and when she came back home to Manchester her mother went off on a visit to Oxford, Cambridge and Nottingham. (Ellen Ewing does not tell us why or for how long).
Ellen wrote to Alice with meticulous reports until she fell ill. Alice wrote to John
When I read your letter I wished I was coming home … It seems as if I ought to be at my post … I know you will be Mother as well as Father when you are at home: but you have to be away so much. I fancy Lily attending lovingly to her 'Mother-Sister'
And then
I longed for, yet half dreaded, your letter this morning. It is such a relief to hear that dear Ellen is better. I do hope the improvement will continue. She is a fine girl. She will be a finer woman. She is one of the granite character; the waves of life will beautify as well as strengthen. And then the polishing hand of the great Master Builder will tell in its every stroke upon her. [8]
John was clearly not quite happy about Ellen. In his letter to Alice, reporting on the family and on Ellen's recovery, he wrote
Baby is tolerably bright and happy. Nelly is most devoted to him and the stockings … I would have her out at Belmont nolens volens [ie. whether she liked it or not] yesterday and I think it did her good; she is over young to get mopish and stockingly [9]
He had taken Ellen from mending the stockings and made her go to Belmont where Alice's sister Ellen Milne and her family lived in the Cheshire countryside at Cheadle, and he added – surely by way of a hint to his wife – a story about a girl of the same age who had become a household drudge.
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| Ellen with Harry, taken in Southport 1868 or 1869 |
But between Alice's great readiness to leave Ellen in charge, and Ellen's willingness to take it on, it is no surprise to find Ellen writing, soon afterwards, on 26 May 1870
I know it is very wrong, but I feel as if I could not order another dinner; I do detest it … I have just been seeing the little ones to bed …
I am a great deal better tonight except my back aches badly for I have been sewing as hard as I could all day. You know it is Thursday of washing week and things seem to want more mending than usual. [10]
She is clearly trying to tell Alice that the task is too great. Alice doesn't seem to respond.
So it is again no surprise to find that in early 1871 Ellen, at the age of 17, is in charge of the younger children (we don't know how many) in Stockport. Three year old Harry, always delicate, often had attacks of pain and Ellen had looked after him devotedly since he was born. Ellen wrote to her mother and again we can't help but notice that she is, to all intents and purposes, calling for help and relief
I felt very nervous about Baby because, when we were coming back from our walk, he began crying so with pain in his stomach. I wrapt him your waterproof and went home as fast as we could; but he quite screamed with pain. As soon as we got in I put his feet in as hot water as he could bear and it seemed to give him instant relief for he stopped crying at once and seemed to enjoy it so. I then got him to drink some hot milk and, when he was warm, put him to bed where he slept for an hour and woke quite well and bright. I should not have told you only I want to know if I did the best thing for him, and you know I should let you know if he should not be so well …. You must not be anxious about Baby; I will take the greatest care of him … Excuse this wretched writing; my arm still trembles with carrying Baby [11]
The rest of the family knew that this bond of work and dependency between Alice and Ellen was bad for Ellen. We don't know if anything was ever said, or could be said, but they never forgot Ellen's unremitting work for them all.
In 1873 John and Alice celebrated their Silver Wedding. Evelyn Oldenbourg remembered John's speech – he said of Ellen, "We simply cannot do without her." [12]
In 1874 the family moved from 12 York Place to rent Grove House from the Whitworth Institute. It was a much larger house, built in about 1830, and had a fine garden and a paddock in which they could keep a cow. Evelyn remembered how tired Ellen was after the move – "almost too tired," wrote Ellen Ewing, "to rejoice in the additional cupboard space in the new home which should have gratified her highly developed sense of order." [13] Never robust or healthy, the poor girl was worn out.
On 20 September 1875 (Ellen Ewing's date of 1874 is not correct) Ellen fell ill with scarlet fever. She died six days later on 26 September, ten days before her 22nd birthday.
Mary, who had helped to nurse her, fell very ill. But she survived and lived to a great and active old age.
Notes
[1] John and Alice Hopkinson 1824-1910 (1948) ed. Mary Hopkinson and her niece Lady Ewing, with a Preface by Sir Gerald Hurst, K.C., p. 66
[2] ibid., p. 33
[3] ibid., p. 40
[4] ibid., p. 48
[5] ibid., p. 52
[6] ibid., p. 53
[7] ibid., p. 57
[8] ibid., p. 59
[9] ibid., p. 59
[10] ibid., p59-60
[11] ibid., p. 60
[12] ibid., p. 66
[13] ibid., p. 66
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