Mary was the daughter of Sir William Bowyer Smyth (11th Baronet) and Eliza Fechnie Malcolm, his second wife. They were to have 14 children, 12 before they were married on the 2nd September 1890 in London. Sir William was 28 years old than Eliza. She referred to her father as ‘Papa’ and her mother as ‘Mama’.
The diary was written in 1944 by Mary, who was also known as ‘Dida’. She talks about her early life and the houses that the family lived in Morlaix, France, Cheltenham and Hill Hall.
It is the time the family spent at Hill Hall I will quote from the diary.
Then the time came when Papa was able to go and live in the ancestral home, as the tenant, a Mr. Payne, did not wish to renew the lease. So the house in Cheltenham, "Atholl" the Park, was given up and the whole family transferred to our beautiful true home, "Hill Hall" near Epping, which opened its arms to receive us as if rejoicing that we had come at last! How happy papa must have been to return to his own home, having had to let it for financial reasons after his mother died. How beautiful it was, and the dear old furniture, and all our ancestors looking down at us from the walls in every room, beginning with Sir Thomas Smith, and others all down the centuries, looking as friendly as if they were so pleased to have us there and not strangers. In some of them we saw the likeness to ourselves. One was called "Jessie" and one "Toodie" and another "Me"- quite distinct features handed down. What happy days we spent there, the house, gardens and park, just a paradise for a large family, which is seen in the album from "Country Life" and other photographs.
The dear little church stands in the park with its famous monuments of departed ancestors. The family pew was a large square space with cushioned seats all round, entered by a door and divided from the rest of the congregation by a wooden partition which we could see over only by standing up! Mr Prance was our clergyman – lived at Stapleford Tawney where he had another church about a mile away across the fields. We were in the parish of Theydon Mount, a village about one mile away.
There were two entrance gates and lodges. The East gate was the principal one and led straight up to the front door between a lovely avenue of old elms and banks of rhododendrons and sometimes gorse. The drive branched off to the left leading to the West lodge which stood near a small lake with an island in the centre; a favoured spot for moorhens. A boat was kept there with which we amused ourselves, and one day Willie (William) was baling the water out of it when he asked Toodie (Eliza) to take care of his signet ring which Mama had given him. It was too big for Toodie but she put it on her finger and it soon slipped off into the water and was never seen again. We were very distressed about it and did all we could to find it, but when we told Papa, he said, "oh well, it has come home"!
There were days, too, when we were allowed to go fishing in a small river nearby, but only if the gamekeeper could be free to come with us, in case any of us fell in. So off we went with rods and jar full of worms, and caught eels and a few roach, On one occasion, in my excitement to land my fish I gave such a strong heave that the line caught onto a bough of a tree. How we laughed to see the eel wriggling up in the air. The gamekeeper came in useful here! Papa was very fond of eels, which we carried home in a pail, and stood it in an outside shed. Once, to our surprise, we found next morning all the eels had disappeared, and we were told they had got out and gone back to the river!! I Wonder?!
As there was plenty of room for archery, we were given bows and arrows and two lovely targets: red, white, blue, black, and a grand gold centre. To begin with Papa gave us a shilling when we hit the gold, but as we were so good at it, he said it was too expensive. But he was very pleased we were so good at it, for when he was a young man, he was Champion Archer of England and won the President's prize at the Toxophilite meetings four years running. I have one of the gold medals.
Tennis then came into fashion, so a net was bought and racquets for the e1der ones. We were never allowed to call the game anything but Lawn Tennis as papa had in his younger days played the real tennis. Then we all had stilts made for us by the estate carpenter, and we only felt we were proficient on them when we could go up and down the steps leading from the terrace onto the lawn. At each end of the terrace were two grand magnolia trees which the artist Sargent painted a picture in oils when the Hunters were in possession!!
In the winter, if a severe one, we skated on the various ponds about the grounds. At all times, wandering in the woods in the park, there was always something of interest to be met with: wild flowers, birds, squirrels, rabbits and game. How many times we were made to jump, when a hen pheasant suddenly swooped of her nest, uttering a loud scream of fright. One day a squirrel jumping from branch to branch lost its hold and came spinning down to the ground. We ran forward to pick it up, but before we could get to it, it went up the tree again as fast as it could, and we delighted that it was not injured! We often found bats stretched out flat against the boles of the oaks and elms, and one day two leverets were found alone in their grass bed. We thought perhaps their mother had deserted them, so they were taken to the stables, put in the hay manager and fed with milk through the babies bottles, a little silk ribbon of blue on one and pink on the other, we could tell which one had been fed!
Some days we would wander down to the estate carpenter and he good-naturedly would let us try using his tools. We loved to see him use his lathe and make curls which were promptly stuck behind our ears. Other days would go and watch the smithy shoeing the horses and see the sparks flying about, and felt sorry for the poor horse to undergo such a performance. But they did not seem to mind, and the music of the hammer on the anvil reminded us of the "Village Blacksmith" Jessie used to play.
The brickyard was not far away, and a delight to watch the men making bricks by hand from the clay a pony had mixed by turning a machine round and round it. How bored it must have been! What fun it was to be given a lump of clay to do what we liked with it. The men helped us to make little models of a cottage and they were really quite good. After they were baked, they were presented to Mama, who cherished them for years.
A visit to the gamekeeper was always exciting. The two lovely red setters were always kept there, "Don" and "Checker", as our parents
Would not allow a dog or cat inside the house! The keeper’s house stood on a mound just on the edge of a wood. There was a beautiful view from it, looking upon miles of lovely fields and woods, and not a building in sight. The keeper raised pheasants under a hen; he fed the young ones with handfuls of ants' eggs. We thought it so brave of him dipping his hand into a pail full of ants' nests. We didn't 1ike seeing the poor little dead moles stuck on the bushes all round the place, also stoats which of course are vermin.
To get to the kitchen garden, we branched off from the drive down a
pathway of shrubs and lovely old elm trees until we got to a high red brick wall, and, opening a heavy oak door, walked into our lovely garden. I think it was some acres, divided by paths, and in the centre was a round pond, surrounded by an iron paling up which grew the red japonica. The south wall was devoted to the peach and nectarine houses, and two more leading out of them devoted to flowers only. Mama was devoted to flowers, so the old hall had to be kept supplied. The pot plants stood in a large white marble font in one of the windows, and in another was a dark oak stand with a lead lining. It was my delight to arrange the vases standing about. It must have annoyed the gardener to see his pet flowers gathered for that purpose, but Mama never said anything but, "Oh! How lovely!" when she came into the hall.
But back to our garden. Did any children ever enjoy one as much! Three sides of the high wall were well trained fruit trees with a border of violets at their roots, then each square of the garden were borders apple, pear and plum trees, the vegetables in the centres. A long perennial flower border faced the glass houses, and from seats along the path one could enjoy the view. Mama often sat there doing her cross-stitch fancy work, One square was full of currant and gooseberry bushes, and as they were ripening we each we each "bagged"one, and it says much for our sense of honour that no one poached on each other's preserves!! There was another big door leading out into the north aspect where the raspberries and Morella cherries qrew, and then further on through another door were the marrows and cucumbers grown. Best of all, here were the vineries, one house all the perfect Muscats and the other large blue grapes. The gardener, West by name, was allowed to cut us bunches as we passed by!! He was a splendid man and did all the work except the digging and rough things, which was done by the two woodman, when they weren’t felling and sawing up the trees for burning in the Hall. Sometimes the gas lent a hand at weeding the paths. He made the gas in a building out of sight behind the stables where we were never allowed to go, it being such a dirty, smelly spot.
From the vineries a path led up the side of the orchard, a joy in the
spring and autumn. I was nearly forgetting about the strawberries, what feasts the whole household had, and the jam that was made. After that the village people came and took what they could find, also of the currants etc. The jam making must have been a tremendous task. The hogshead of sugar was too big to get into the kitchen door, so had to be emptied from the outside, using coal scuttles to shovel the sugar into the huge bins standing in the kitchen, in which was kept also sacks of flour and oatmeal.
To be continued in our December Journal.