Leonora's Journal Volume One

The Sequel to 'Ring of Stone' by Bronwen Welsh

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Author's note: This is a story set in 19th Century Regency England, in the time of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters and William Wordsworth, and continues the life of Leonora d'Anglais, who first appeared in 'Ring of Stone'.

Back in 2013, I wrote and published a story called 'Ring of Stone' here on Bigcloset. At the conclusion I promised a follow-up story called 'Leonora's Journal'. For reasons which I cannot remember now, this never happened.

Recently, I re-read the story and thought that there might still be some interest in reading her journal even at this late stage. I was pleased by the positive response to my enquiry of past readers.. However, it really requires readers to read or re-read the original story to understand who Leonora is and how she came to live in the nineteenth century while having knowledge of the present day. I hope you enjoy the story.
Bronwen Welsh 2022

Introduction: My name is Jack d'Anglais, and in a memoir which I called 'Ring of Stone', I related the extraordinary story of how my friend Leonard Bolton somehow achieved his dream of becoming a woman, and not just any woman but one of his own ancestors, Leonora d'Anglais. At the conclusion of the story, I mentioned how, although the original journal that Leonora wrote was destroyed in a house fire, by extraordinary good fortune, a typed copy of the journal had just been found, which had been transcribed by a distant relative of mine called Dora Longfort

This journal tells the story of Leonora from when she was eighteen up until shortly before her death. Some of it just records the day-to-day minutia of life, so I have edited it to include only the most important events of her life, both good and bad. You may note that some words are spelled slightly differently to the present day, such as 'chuse' and 'shew', and some of the expressions may seem somewhat quaint, but remember, it was written some years before the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary in 1884.

One of the intriguing things about the Journal is the occasional hint that for a lady living in the nineteenth century she has amazing foresight of how the world might be in the twenty first century. While Leonard could not possibly have read the Journal, some of the early pages record events in a remarkably similar fashion to those recorded in the letter that Leonard sent me via his solicitor and which I recorded in my original memoir. This surely proves the truth of what he told me and that it was not some fantasy of his. I have included explanatory notes where necessary (JD), and there are occasional notes by Dora Longfort which I have included with the appellation 'Dora L' Without further ado, here is Leonora's Journal.

Chapter 1. An introduction

September 3rd, 1811.
My name is Leonora Elizabeth Bolton (this surname was crossed out and d'Anglais substituted in the original document. Dora L) and today I am starting a journal.
I never thought to do so before, but one day when I am an old lady I shall look back at this extraordinary year, and I want to remember it for ever. I intend that for now it shall be for my eyes only, but hope it is not a conceit of mine to think that if it survives, my descendants may find it of interest far into the future.

My Papa gave me the most beautiful leather-bound book of blank pages as a gift on my eighteenth birthday, and I can think of no better use for it than to record these thoughts of mine. I know that most people would choose to start at the beginning of the year, but today is a very important day in my life because I am convinced that I have met the man I am destined to marry. His name is Richard d'Anglais and not only is he the handsomest man I have ever met, but he has the sweetest nature that anyone could wish for. I know that we will be very happy together.

But first for the benefit of my older self who may become forgetful while reading this journal in later years, and for readers in the future, a little about me: I was born on 2nd May 1793, the eldest daughter of Professor Robert Bolton, Dean of -------- College, Oxford, and his wife Margaret. I have a brother John, two years older than me, and a younger sister, Emma who is currently eight years old. I believe there were other children born to Mama between me and Emma, but it is something I could not and would not discuss with Mama for fear of causing her distress. It is my prediction that in the future, medical expertise presently unknown, will permit most children to reach adulthood. I trust that I am right.

Earlier this year I was exceedingly unwell. It came about when I was out walking in our beautiful Oxfordshire countryside and was caught by an unexpected heavy shower of rain which thoroughly soaked me. I returned home as quickly as I could while chilled to the bone by the cold wind which had suddenly arisen and caused me to shiver violently. My maid Marie organised a warm bath for me, after which I went to bed. I remember nothing after this time, but upon my earnest enquiry, Mama has now conveyed to me the history of what then transpired.

The next morning it seems I awoke with a high fever. The apothecary was sent for and supplied some restorative elixirs which Mama had difficulty making me swallow in my delirium and which appeared to have no effect. My fever persisted and worsened day by day, and Mama and Papa despaired of me ever recovering. The thought of losing more children was almost more than Mama could bear. The aid of several surgeons was enlisted, but they were unable to suggest a treatment other than to keep me warm and hope that the fever would eventually resolve. One even suggesting blood-letting, but my Papa pointed out how pale I already looked and how I was drenched in perspiration, and forbade it to happen, something for which I am very grateful since I believe it does more harm than good.

My brother John was sent for from University as it seemed that my recovery was unlikely, and he would have an opportunity to say his goodbyes. My little sister Emma spent her days in tears, fearing that she would lose her last remaining sister, the big sister she always looked up to for advice and solace. Mama insisted on staying up with me and praying each night for a miracle, but I continued in a delirium. Mama could not make out much of what I was saying but she is convinced that she heard me talking about flying to Egypt. 'You must have dreamed that you had developed wings,' she said. What else could I do but chuse to agree with her?

Just when the whole family had given up hope, it seems that a minor miracle occurred. One morning I awoke Mama who had fallen asleep sitting by my bedside, by reaching out for her hand, and saying in a whisper “Where am I?” As you can imagine, she was overcome with emotion at seeing me lucid again – the fever had broken, and the crisis was over. From that day on, I gradually regained my strength, although it was a week before I left my bed, and longer still before I ventured downstairs. All the while, my dear maid Marie hardly left my side and ministered to my every need. Mama and even Papa were constant visitors to my room to reassure themselves of my gathering strength. The only long-lasting effect seems to be my lack of memory of events prior to my illness. This is causing me some embarrassment, but everyone is being so kind and understanding.

Once I was feeling fully recovered, and that was only recently, Papa suggested that a holiday in the fresh mountain air of the Lake District might be beneficial to me. He and Mama spent their honeymoon there and they both had fond memories of the area. Papa arranged to rent a suitable house for a month, and the whole family with the exception of John who was studying law at Oxford University, travelled there together with our cook, Mrs Chambers, some maids and footmen, and of course Marie, my personal maid. We made our way there in our carriage and the others followed by stagecoach, a trip that took four days.

One of my favourite occupations is drawing and painting, the facility for which I had somehow retained, and I immediately began to record the beautiful scenery of this most special part of England. One day, we travelled to an old Druid's Circle of ancient stones not far from our rented house in Keswick. I was fascinated by the scene, surrounded as it is by spectacular mountain scenery, and was determined to record it.

It was a warm sunny day and perhaps due to the heat, shortly after we arrived, I began to feel quite faint. My parents and sister had wandered off to the far side of the ring to admire the views, knowing that I preferred solitude when I was drawing, so I reached out to a large stone to steady myself. A very handsome young gentleman approached me and asked if he could be of assistance. I was happy to accept his offer, even though we had never met before, let alone been introduced, and he took my arm and guided me to a smaller stone where I could sit down, and then held my parasol above me to give me some shade. He also proffered his hip flask with restorative liquor. While I am now old enough to have wine with our evening meals, the strength of the liquor – I believe he said it was ‘brandy wine’ – almost took my breath away, but at the same time a few sips did serve to restore my equilibrium.

At this point I felt somewhat embarrassed since I had never been introduced to this young man and if Mama approached, I didn't know what she might think, so reluctantly I made it clear that I was feeling fully restored and thanked him in a way which encouraged him to leave me, which he did, although I believe with similar reluctance. I now set about sketching the scene with my pad and pencils. Not long afterward my young sister Emma arrived and told me that Mama and Papa wished me to join them for the trip back to our dwelling for lunch.

When we arrived back at the house about one o'clock, there was a letter from my brother John, saying that he would arrive from Oxford the following day and would be bringing a friend with him to visit us in the afternoon. His letter had been delayed and so this was the day he referred to. Mama was greatly relieved that we had time to prepare properly for our visitor. The thought of lunch was abandoned, and I immediately repaired to my room where Marie, under the direction of Mama, produced a beautiful gown for me to wear and set about assisting me to look my best. I confess that I was wondering if this friend of John's might be viewed as a suitable husband for me, since Mama had already hinted that a girl of my age should be looking for a young single man with a good fortune who was in want of a wife. However, I could not cease thinking of the handsome young man at the Druid's Circle, although I had no idea whether he was single or already married. Of course, I also realised that I might never see him again.

After over an hour's preparation, I and my pretty little sister Emma descended to the drawing room where Mama was already seated and I occupied myself with my sketches, while Mama set about teaching Emma some of the basics of needlework. Papa was already there reading the newspaper. The intention was to appear to be having a normal afternoon at home, rather than what it really was, a carefully choreographed setting to impress the visitor, John's friend.

A short time later we heard the sound of two horses' hooves on the gravel driveway, and I confess that my heartbeat had increased as I wondered what the next short time might hold. Then a young man, obviously John, bounded into the room, shook hands with Papa and kissed Mama, me and Emma on the cheek with the greatest enthusiasm, and expressions of happiness at seeing us again. I have to say he is a handsome young man with a lovely nature. I hope he never reads this, or he will tease me unmercifully for writing so.

“Dearest sister! I am so glad to see you looking so well again,” he cried, and I smiled my thanks at him

He seemed to suddenly remember his guest and we all turned to where he was standing in the doorway – it was the young man from the Druid's Circle! I'm not sure if I audibly gasped, but when the young man smiled at me, I could do no other than return his smile. I knew that my cheeks were glowing, and I lowered my head modestly lest I appear too forward.

John then introduced his friend: “Mama, Papa, may I present my friend from Oxford, Mr Richard d'Anglais who is already staying nearby with his family?”

John then introduced Richard to me and unfortunately I made a slip of the tongue when I replied: “I'm pleased to meet you again, Mr d'Anglais.”

Mama instantly picked up on my remark and said “Again? You have met already?”

Blushing deeply, I replied “Mr d'Anglais kindly offered me his aid when I felt a little faint at the Druid Circle, even though we haven’t been introduced.”

“It was my pleasure to assist Miss Bolton when she felt a little unwell,” said Mr d'Anglais, and both my parents thanked him for his kindness. Thank goodness he didn’t mention the brandy-wine, as I’m not sure they would have approved of it.

After that he was invited to sit down, but alas at some distance from me, and tea was served. Mama then undertook a gentle but thorough interrogation of Mr d'Anglais. I did my best to appear not to listen, while also doing my best to hear every word that was said. From the general tone of the conversation, it seemed to me that Mr d'Anglais was passing this test. In fact, Mama failed to elicit one important fact about Mr d'Anglais' family which was to cause her some embarrassment at a future time, but more of that later. ( Note:This last sentence was added later JD)

After about an hour's conversation, mainly pertaining to John and Mr d'Anglais' studies at Oxford where they are both studying law, John said that he and Richard had arranged to meet with some other friends from university who were staying close by, so begged to be excused. However, before they left, Mr d'Anglais passed on a verbal invitation from his parents for us to attend a small soirée which they were giving in about a week's time. This invitation was readily accepted by Papa, which I took to be a good sign.

After my initial few words when Mr d'Anglais first arrived, I had made no further contribution to the conversation, since as a modest young lady I felt it would not have been proper to do so. However, as he left, Mr D'Anglais said to me “It's been a great pleasure to meet you again, Miss Bolton”, and not being sure how to respond, I replied with a smile and doubtless another blush.
Mama said that she had no doubt that Mr d'Anglais admired me very much and she hoped that this might lead to an offer in due course. I replied by saying that he seemed a very gentlemanly and pleasant young man, but I hardly knew him. However, my blushes doubtless revealed my growing feelings for him.

“I must do my best to find out more about his family during the soirée,” said Mama. “I do hope he is in possession of a good fortune.”

September 6th
Today I prevailed upon my brother John to take me to the Druid's Circle again so that I could complete my sketches. I half-hoped that we would meet Mr d’Anglais again, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hope my disappointment didn't appear too obvious, but young men like my brother are often not particularly perceptive to the feelings of others.

September 7th
I must now record a little about my Papa. Acknowledging my distress in forgetting so much from before my illness, one afternoon he kindly agreed to tell me something of himself and answer any questions I might have.

Being the second son of his father Sir Edward Bolton, his elder brother Michael would have inherited the family estate, and he was expected to pursue a career in the army or the church, but a visit to the British Museum when he was young caused him to develop such an interest in the history of the Middle East, that he persuaded his father to let him study these subjects at Oxford under the tutelage of the famous antiquarian Sir Joseph Banks McMurtrie, a distant relative of the famous botanist who travelled to the southern oceans with Captain James Cook, and made many discoveries.

He had the good fortune, once he became a post-graduate student, to travel with a team lead by Sir Joseph to explore the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. I was fascinated by his stories of the heat and sand, and the many tombs of the long-dead pharaohs. In answer to my query, he replied that there was little to be found there as all the graves had been robbed of their treasures, probably not that long after their inhabitants had been buried.

“The problem is that too many people knew exactly what riches were buried with them, and even though guards were employed to protect the tombs, they were probably as tempted by the riches within as the grave robbers.”

“Do you think that there is any chance that an undisturbed pharaoh’s tomb is still to be found there?” I asked him.

“That's a romantic suggestion my dear, but I think the chances are extremely remote as the Valley has been very well searched,” he said. “However, there are one or two pharaohs whose tombs have never been discovered, but they may well have been buried elsewhere.”

While Papa was in Egypt, something happened to change his life. His elder brother Michael was unfortunately killed in a riding accident, and he returned to discover that he was now to inherit a large fortune and extensive land-holdings not far from Oxford. It also meant that he was able to marry the love of his life, Margaret, eldest daughter of Sir Edwin Ashford, a rich landowner who lived not far from Oxford. Naturally, it was Mama who confided to me the following information.

It seems theirs was a true love match. They had first met at one of the county balls and as Mama told me 'It was love at first sight'. They met and danced at several more balls and their attraction only grew stronger, but they were both sanguine enough to realise that any offer made by Papa as a second son would be rejected outright by Sir Edwin. Papa was only too happy to accept the opportunity to travel overseas to Egypt in a fruitless attempt to forget Mama. She in turn did not forget him and indeed rejected what her parents thought was a very good offer from the son of another local landowner, saying he could never make her happy, something which was proved upon his subsequent marriage to one of her friends. I must admit I was curious to know more details, but Mama was too discrete to say more about it.

Mama was resigned to the thought of life as a spinster, but all this changed upon the death of Michael, and now Sir Edwin was only too happy to accept Papa as a future son-in-law. About six months later, they were married.

When Grandpapa died, part of Papa's inheritance, besides a great fortune, was a grand mansion into which our family moved, while keeping a smaller dwelling in Oxford, which was already too small for the growing family of three children. Grandmama had chosen to move into a small cottage on the estate as more suited to her needs. It also meant that each of Papa's children would have a most respectable fortune settled on them, important especially for his two daughters as it would make them very desirable marriage partners.

Papa now had the funds to pursue his interest in antiquity in a private capacity, but all that changed. Professors at Oxford are expected to remain single, but by now, Papa was such a well-known and respected academic in the field of Middle Eastern antiquity, as well as being an alumnus whose presence would add to the university's reputation, that the University Council decided to break one of its own rules and appoint him Professor.

Wednesday September 11th.
Last night was the soirée at the house rented by the d'Anglais family. I was far too tired to record this event when we came home, but I have time to do it justice today.

During the afternoon, Marie and I set about making me look my absolute best, starting with a warm bath before she helped me to dress. First, I put on my silk stockings, held up by garters, a white cotton chemise which hung to my calves, then some short stays to show off my figure. Next came a petticoat with lace trim on the hem, and finally the most beautiful muslin gown, even prettier than the one I had worn when John and Mr d'Anglais came to visit. Then she attended to my hair and face. I cannot say that I am beautiful, but I feel that neither would anyone find me plain. A small amount of rouge was applied to my cheeks and my lips were reddened by application of a lip salve. Before leaving my room, I slipped my feet into satin shoes and suspended a reticule with personal items from a belt above my natural waist, and also put on some gloves and a cashmere shawl to ward off the cool of the evening. My preparations were complete.

Emma was very disappointed that she was too young to come with us, so as a way of recompense, she was allowed into my dressing room while Marie worked her magic, and I promised her that I would tell her all about the evening today, a promise which I have kept.

“Oh Leonora, any young man who sees you will fall in love with you, you look so beautiful,” she said. I am ashamed to say that my young sister made me blush.

At the same time that I was being prepared, Mama was in her own room, similarly engaged. When we were both ready, we descended the stairs together to where Papa and John were waiting for us, both looking very handsome in their ruffled shirts, tailcoats, silk breeches, stockings and black leather court shoes.

Papa beamed at the sight of us. “What beauties have we here, John? I confess it will be difficult to separate mother from daughter!”

Mama laughed and blushed slightly. “La, Mr Bolton, what a flatterer you are!” But she still held out her hand to him as she reached the foot of the stairs, and he gallantly kissed it. I truly hope that I will still be as much in love with my husband after we have been married over twenty years.

The carriage was already drawn up to the door. Mama and I were helped into it by a footman, and Papa and John joined us. We set off for the house which the d'Anglais family had rented. When our carriage entered the driveway and we had a view of the house I was impressed with its size, but John said casually that Richard had told him the family owned a much larger property close to Grasmere, some fifteen miles away, and they were staying here for a change of scenery.

When we entered the house, Mama and I were shown upstairs by a maid, to a room where we could check our appearance after the ride and present ourselves in the best possible way. I do confess that I wish there was some means of transport smoother than a carriage with its iron-shod wheels through which every pothole in the road is felt. When we were quite ready, Mama and I returned to the ground floor where Pappa and John awaited us, and we were shown into a sizeable ballroom where a footman announced our names.

Looking around the room which was brilliantly lit by hundreds of candles, I saw that there were about a dozen young men and a similar number of young women, some of them extremely pretty, and all wearing the most beautiful gowns. I suddenly felt concern at how Richard d'Anglais might view me against such competition. However, I was pleased to see Richard detach himself from a group of young people and come over to greet us as soon as he heard our names announced. Mama and I curtseyed, and Papa and John exchanged bows with Richard.

“I am so pleased to see you, Professor and Mrs Bolton, and Miss Bolton. May I have the honour of introducing you to my family?” he said.

We followed him to where a most distinguished gentleman and a stately looking lady, obviously his wife, were greeting the guests.

“Professor, Mrs and Miss Bolton, may I present my parents, Sir John and Lady Elizabeth d'Anglais?”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Mama had coloured slightly – this was news to her and no doubt she was wondering how her gentle interrogation of Richard had not elicited this information. She and I curtseyed to Richard's parents who both returned the salutation with a slight bow. I could see Lady d'Anglais' eyes on me and suspected that she had already divined that Richard found me a person of interest.

Sir John then said, “May I also introduce my two younger children, Sarah and Lucy?” and he nodded towards two very pretty young girls of around eighteen years, obviously twins and beautifully dressed, who curtseyed to us. I replied with a curtsey and Mama gave them a smile and a bow.

Sir John continued “I understand that you are Dean of another Oxford college, not the one where my son and yours are studying law; that relieves me of having to ask how he is succeeding in his studies.”

Papa smiled. “That is true Sir John, but since I have not heard Mr d'Anglais' name mentioned at any of the regular meetings of the University Deans, which can happen when they are particularly disappointed in a student, I take that as a sign that he is a model student.” This reply was met with a smile from Sir John.

Meanwhile his wife addressed Mama. “I understand my son Richard aided Miss Bolton at the Druid's Circle when she felt unwell.”

“Yes, indeed Ma'am, and we are most grateful for his assistance, but I was unaware of it until he paid a visit to our house with my son.”

“And do you have any more children, Mrs Bolton?”

“Yes ma'am, an eight-year-old daughter Emma who was greatly dismayed that she is not yet old enough to attend such evenings as this.”

Lady Elizabeth smiled. “How typical of children, always wanting to grow older, and then when they are older, wanting time to stand still. I hope you will accept an invitation to visit us for tea on a private occasion where Emma is also able to attend.”

Mama immediately accepted the invitation, and I could tell that it pleased her greatly.

Just then the footman announced the arrival of more guests, and Sir John said, “I hope you will excuse us if we greet some more guests?”

This was obviously a sign for us to conclude the conversation and with further bows and curtseys we moved off to mingle with the throng.

There was a small orchestra playing softly in the background, but then they struck up a dance, the lively cotillion, and I was so pleased when Richard appeared and asked me to dance. It was a great pleasure to have my first dance with him and I was certainly out of breath when it finished, so when he offered me some refreshment, I was only too happy to accept, and we chatted briefly.

“Miss Bolton, I hope you will excuse me. As the son of the hosts this evening, it falls to me to dance with more of the young ladies present. However, I hope you will reserve another dance for me before the evening ends.”

“Thank you Mr d'Anglais, I would be very happy to share another dance with you.” I said before going to sit next to Mama.

“You look a little flushed my dear,” said Mama. “Are you feeling quite well?”

“I had a dance with Mr d’Anglais, and it was most energetic as you know, Mama,” I replied.

“Do not fix your eyes too firmly on Mr d'Anglais, my dear,” said Mama. “His parents may want him to marry into nobility.”

“Well Papa may be made a knight soon,” I replied. “His predecessor at the university was made one, after all.” (Emma had given me this information.)

Mama smiled and made no reply.

I did indeed dance with Richard once more that evening, (two brackets of two dances being the maximum allowable for couples not in a relationship, neither engaged nor married) and was very happy when we finally left the house to travel back to our own. Marie was waiting to help me undress and put on my nightgown, and I'm sure it was but a few minutes after I retired to bed that I fell asleep.

On the subject of dancing, I should mention that Papa has employed a dancing teacher, Monsieur Pierrot to teach me dance. This may seem an extravagance but the ability to dance is of great importance especially for young ladies since the frequent balls that are held are most important social events. M Pierrot brought his 'pochette' or 'pocket violin' with him to play and acquaint me with the various tunes and rhythms that I would encounter. Again, he had taught me prior to my sickness and was most kind in accepting how I had completely forgotten all that I had been previously taught.

To be continued.