AN EDWARDIAN PICNIC

PART ONE

"Yes, I'll bring scones and two loaves of homemade bread and of course the pickled tongue in aspic as you suggested, and Agnes said she's bringing her delicious potato salad. Everybody loves it and a picnic wouldn't be the same without it, would it?" she twittered, tucking a strand of hair into her untidy bun and dabbing her upper lip where the little beads of sweat were gathering.

"Such a hot day, today - I've had the blinds down since 9 o'clock and the house feels stifling already, goodness only knows what it will be like on the day of the picnic, although mind you - I hope we don't have any rain, as that would spoil things for everybody wouldn't it?"

Sally was an inveterate chatterer, voicing every thought the moment it entered her head, and some said this made her a monumental bore with nothing of value to impart. But she was so good-hearted and had such a caring nature it was hard to be critical when encountering her warmth and despite her chattering, she had loads of friends.

When Marie had been told about the arrangements for the annual picnic she had rebelled at the thought of another of these "family and friends" events. She really hated having to be present at these gatherings; they were so boring and repetitive. "Why can't we do something different this year," she had grumbled to Mamma, thinking of the interesting activities they could undertake to replace the staid gathering of adults and their friends who congregated on the banks of the Buffalo River on Easter Monday, year after year. But the venue and tone of the gathering had been set years before when old Granny Charlotte and Grandad William were still alive and they had insisted on observing this annual ritual.

"We'll have to organise things ourselves, now that Grandad's gone", remarked, "but we can still use his workers from the timber mill to help with the heavy carrying. They'll bring the wagon loaded with the tables and chairs, all the cutlery and tableware. Tell Katrina to get the maids to pack the silverware into the green baize boxes and pack the china carefully in straw in the usual way."

"Oh Mom," complained Marie, irritated she was being roped into the preparations when everyone knew exactly what they had to do from long practice. "Why do we always have to have a picnic every year? We're all so bored with the same thing. Except for the occasional bird dropping on the tablecloth and the sunshine and fresh air, it's always the same. All that's missing is the smell of past meals and the pong of the gentlemen's cigars!"

"Your Granny Lotta always liked things to be done properly," her mother replied inexorably. "Always insisted on keeping up appearances, she did. The family's social position in East London mattered a lot to her; right up to the end of her life. She would never have agreed to letting things slide. A summer picnic at the Buffalo River is lovely, everyone enjoys it. So no more arguing now," and with that, Mama swept off to see how the roast chickens were doing, "Can't trust the servants with anything these days," she muttered to herself. 

But thankfully, since her death seven years ago, followed six months later by Grandad William's quiet passing, things had eased considerably and now the picnic was easy-going and free, with groups sitting and lounging on the grass and the younger men bringing earthenware demijohns of cider and large bottles of beer to which they helped themselves surreptitiously behind the screening umtungula trees.

Marie seldom took much part in the activities, her incapacity prevented her from joining in the games and races, but as she grew older she had begun to watch the people around her, taking pleasure from observing the interactions and listening to the conversation. It was always a source of wonder how much information people gave away with their body language and whispered asides, and somehow in the open air everybody seemed to relax the conventions and behaviour changed subtly as it would never do indoors.

First, there was little Auntie Connie, one of the many spinsters in the group, for whom this annual picnic was the highlight of her year. She lived a lonely life in an uncomfortable dark rooming house, mostly occupied by overworked teachers whose only conversation was their pupils. She earned her keep by helping out in the kitchen and was always frightened of losing her accommodation through some trifling misdemeanour of which she was unaware. She wore black buttoned boots polished to a high shine, and a drab shirtwaister, and her hair was usually tied up in a doek, "to keep the spiderwebs out," she said, when questioned. She'd fancied herself in love with the local parson, but when her adoring glances were not returned after many Sundays spent listening to his sermon with her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his face, she switched her affection to the butcher, ignoring his stout wife and four children on the farm.

"You'll be making a real fool of yourself if you go on that way," her spiteful sister Maud had warned her, but it took more than one warning to bring her to her senses before Connie gave up all hope of finding the love of her life, and resigned herself to lonely spinsterhood.

"Do you think Charlie and his friends will be coming?" Marie asked her mother, preening herself in front of the mirror and twisting two of her beautiful chestnut curls over her shoulder.

"He'll not take much notice of you, my girl, if he does," her mother replied with brutal truth. "He's got his eyes on a much bigger prize than an invalid girl. He wants to find a healthy rich heiress who'll be a mother to his children, and you're certainly not what he's looking for." Marie hated it when her mother spoke to her in this way, it was cruel and unnecessary, but perhaps this very hardness had given Marie the courage to overcome the disability of her withered left leg.  Unbeknown to Marie her mother's attitude hid her grief and anger that she, her beloved last-born child, should have been born with a withered leg.

'Oh, I do hate this heavy calliper,' thought Marie walking awkwardly on her shorter leg. 'It makes my hips ache and slows me up so much. I can never join in the other activities and I'd love to be able to dance when the band starts up.' But despite her lack of movement, Marie had many friends as she had such a loving nature. 'I love talking to you Marie my dear,' they all said, 'you're always willing to listen no wonder you know so much about what goes on in the village.'

Others amongst the group who would attend the picnic were the cousins, Lance and Gerald. Strictly speaking, they were no longer boys, but young men on the cusp of manhood, eager to get out into the world and try their luck on the famed Witwatersrand where they had heard there were fortunes to be made.

"How d'you like my new 'stache, Marie?" Lance queried, carelessly swinging his leg as he perched on the 'X'-shaped railings around the veranda. He had recently grown a whispy brown moustache which he stroked lovingly every time he remembered. The moustache still looked like an untidy scrap of seaweed draped across his upper lip, but to Lance it represented manhood and he imagined that every sweet young thing who saw him, immediately developed an insatiable desire to be wrapped in his arms. He still had a lot to learn about the world, and women in particular.

His brother Gerald was quieter and less outgoing, following in his brother's footsteps wherever he went, but there had been times in the past when Gerald had not failed to take the lead, and there were plenty of signs to indicate that as soon as he had gained sufficient confidence, Gerald would become a force to be reckoned with. He had always been interested in mechanics and showed quite an aptitude for it.

"That boy's got aptitude!" Granny 'Lotta had been fond of saying, and she'd insisted that he receive some training in elementary electrics and mechanics. With his innate ability, Gerald was quickly learning how the new labour-saving gadgets and inventions worked, and in a couple of years, he'd be a valuable addition to any employer's workforce when the boys went up to the goldfields.

The day of the picnic dawned bright and clear with just a hint of a breeze. The whitecaps on the waves off the Orient Beach indicated a hot and breathless midday, but it would be cool under the milkwood trees and there was always a breeze off the river. Occasionally, in the past, if the weather promised to be very hot, Grandad William had his workers rig up a canvas awning to protect the party from the worst of the sun. "Tell Oupa Koosie to get the awning rigged in the usual way. Even if he's too old and stiff now to help with the work, he can instruct the others," Mama ordered as she and Tannie Katrina packed the food into the picnic baskets.

Scurrying outside Katrina screeched at the top of her voice - [so inelegant, but then you could never teach these coloured people anything could you?' Mama said], "Jy, Koosie, vat die seil and trek met hom, en maak dit vas aan die tak," and there was a running and scratching in the barn to find the canvas and ropes and then a loading and the swift clopping of hooves as the wagon moved off with the first load of chairs and comestibles. All would be ready for them by the time the family reached the picnic ground, and the awning would give them some additional cover from the baking sun.

..oo0oo.

Ten minutes later the ladies descended dressed in their summer finery, parasols at the ready. There was Alice, her beautiful dark brown hair piled high in her usual style, sparkling violet eyes taking in everything around her. She looked very well in her elegant new lavender silk with its high lace neckline outlined by a double row of perfectly matched pearls, set off by a matching lavender satin parasol. Crowning the whole ensemble was a large picture hat with an elaborate arrangement of bows and flowers and a small white dove nestling on the crown, it's shining black eyes making it look alive. Lydia wore a charming copper-rose shirt-waister more suitable for the picnic than Alice's choice, but as Alice was waiting for dear "Mollie" to pop the question, the family understood why she had dressed in such style.

"Mollie" was Colonel Moline of the Worcestershire Regiment stationed at Fort Beaufort on the Border between the Kei and Fish Rivers, protecting the settlers from the onslaughts of the Fingoes and the Dwyka; a thankless job and one for which these fair-skinned Englishmen were totally unsuited. Their background and training had never prepared them for this type of guerrilla fighting in the unforgiving terrain of the Eastern Province. They were homesick and longing for the next troopship to arrive in the roadstead bringing their relief. Laden with remounts and fresh stores for the commissariat, the soldiers waited impatiently for the ship's arrival, but in the meantime, the worthy citizens of Kingwilliamstown and East London did their best to entertain the officers and men and keep their attentions focussed on the local beauties.

"Many a good marriage prospect waiting his time for promotion out there," Uncle Edward murmured jocularly. "You girls don't want to let these sons of England slip through your fingers you know! They'd make good husbands for all of you; even you, Marie lovey," he added, turning to his beloved niece, a momentary tear moistening his eye as he thought of her courage  in coping with her wizened leg, and her sweet nature.

"You'll be entertaining us as usual with your lovely singing won't you, me dearie?" he added, changing the subject before the family noticed his sentimentality. Pulling out a silk handkerchief smelling of Bay Rum cologne to dab his lips, he screwed his monocle into his eye as he gazed lovingly at his darling girl. Seventeen now, and developing into a real beauty like her elder sister Alice, he would do all he could to facilitate a good match for her, it was the least he could do to help his favourite sister's daughter.


Chapter Two

When the wagon returned, the ladies and the rest of the baskets piled in and, with Albertina and her grandson Sammy to serve at table, they took a leisurely drive down to the picnic grounds. Crowds of friends were gathering, there was Mrs Cooke with her three daughters and the two younger boys, and Mrs Robertson had brought old Auntie Mamie, such a long time since she'd attended a picnic.

"Alfred not joining us today, Mrs Cooke?" queried Mama kindly, wondering how she managed with that husband of hers.

"Surprised he keeps a job these days really, always drunk and in such a responsible position - train driver and all. Don't know what the family will do if he loses his job on the railways and all them little ones to support. It must be a terrible worry for Adeline, never knowing whether his stoker is going to bring him home half-sozzled, or if he's just been kept late at the depot."

After unloading the wagon and setting up the picnic the group settled down to exchange all the latest news and stories, and, in the usual tradition, this was when Freddie Knight set up his camera tripod and with many a laughing direction, got them to pose for a photograph.

"Move in a little closer, Cousin Katie - and Gerald and Lance put on your straw boaters, they make you boys look so handsome," he said, cleverly stage-managing the group, getting them to pose attractively and showing the ladies and young gentlemen off to their best advantage.

"Alice, tilt your head a leetle forward, your beautiful hat must look well in the picture, also hold your parasol towards the front as well, and Marie dear, you sit on this small stool - you'll be more comfortable that way - then Lance can put his hand on your shoulder, we all know how fond he is of you, me dearie" continued Freddie, deftly moving the living pawns around his chessboard until they were positioned to his satisfaction.

Then, darting back to his tripod, he ducked under the black cloth and holding up the phosphorus flash, he shouted "Hold it!" and the group froze until, with a small explosion, the flash went off and they could resume talking. After another two or three pictures were taken in various positions - Freddie was stickler for always getting things right -  Freddie felt he had 'captured the moment' as he liked to call it. Nobody objected, in fact, they looked forward to seeing the finished product and later, when he produced copies for sale they sold quickly, soon becoming treasured items in family photograph albums.

The day passed quickly in a haze of food, good fellowship and talk lubricated by the hidden jars of cider and beer for the lads, and an occasional glass of wine for the ladies and by late afternoon people were beginning to rouse themselves from their after-lunch snoozes, brush off the dust and grass and splash cooling river water over their sunburned cheeks and arms. Soon, a plume of golden dust rising into the sunset air and the clopping of hooves indicated that the wagons were on their way. People began packing unused food and drink; the annual family picnic was over.

In a quiet glade shaded by giant milkwood trees, two people were busy with their own concerns, unaware of the flurry of activity and increased noise. Alice, beautiful violet eyes shaded by thick lashes, bent her head to mask the impatience she had battled so hard to keep in check. Facing her was her suitor Mollie, the man she was now silently willing to make up his mind and get on with it and propose. She had been waiting for so long for this indecisive man, so successful in his military career and vacillating so uncertainly in his private life to finally make up his mind and "pop the question".

'It's all so silly really,' she thought to herself, biting her lips to prevent her lifting her head and glaring at him in an attempt to make him hurry up and say the words. 'We all know that of course I'll accept him, it's been a foregone conclusion for months now. I'll never get a better offer than Colonel Moline, and even if it means I'll have to leave my family, friends and country and follow wherever the Army sends him, it'll be a small sacrifice to make for the prestige and position it'll bring me as the wife of a colonel.'

At last Mollie stopped whittling the stick he had broken from the overhanging branch and applied himself to the matter in hand, clasping her cool slender fingers in his hot, dry hands. Tilting her chin up with one finger, he looked deep into her lovely eyes and in one breath he said, "Darling Alice, you know how much I love you and how long it has taken me to bring myself to ask you this, but - will you marry me? I've deferred asking you, knowing how deeply you love all your family and how much of a wrench it'll be for you to leave them and live in another country many thousands of miles from home. But if you can bring yourself to undertake the sacrifice and are willing to follow me and become my wife, I promise that you'll never regret it and I will make you the best and happiest of wives."

Breathing a soft sigh of pleasure and acceptance, Alice gently placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered, "Darling Mollie, of course I'll marry you, I thought you'd never ask!" and leaning forward, kissed him passionately.

BARBARA DURLACHER

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Comment

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Erna

Great imagination! You seem to have brought an old photograph to life here – did you? Maybe one of Freddie’s pictures in your grandmother’s album? It takes a lot of guts to tackle a “period piece”, and a lot of research to make it sound authentic. For instance: did Edwardians eat potato salad?

 

I feel that this story really wants to be a novel. There is more than one “plot” or “theme” in it – I wanted to know more about chattering Sally and cripple Marie and lonely little Auntie Connie. In fact, I was rather bemused when the story ended with a proposal – I had not expected the main theme (or climax) to be about Alice and her colonel. When you re-write the story, you could perhaps focus more on Alice, and make all the other characters and events a kind of backdrop to the love story?

 

Keep writing! You have created a lot of interesting characters, who all deserve to have their stories told. Stephen King says that he never knows what is going to happen in a book he writes… he just follows his characters around and writes down what they do!

2007-10-16

Barbara

Dear Erna - Sorry, somehow I did not manage to finish my earlier thanks for your very constructive comments on my story. I had wanted to develop the story into a short novella or novel, depicting the events of the family over 40 years. Delighted to receive your critique, as now you've given me the impetus to continue. Also thanks for your perceptive remark about "potato salad". You're probably right - I doubt that it was known to the Edwardian table.

2007-10-16

Mandy

This is a stunning piece, Barbara. Your descriptions are so vivid that they breathe life. I can so relate to those obligatory family affairs but I must say this is one is much grander scale than those to which I refer. I agree with Erna, you have created some very interesting characters - don't let them die whatever you do!
Give us more - please

2007-10-17

Lois Harris

I love the style, I found your voice, and I love the way you introduce the characters.
 
The POV is seen from Marie's angle.  However, there also seems to be an
omniscient POV which engaged me from the first word.
 
Your observation skills are really very good.
 
Marie's fears are concrete and I look forward to seeing her conquer these fears
in later episodes. She observes characters and compares their fears with hers, perhaps trying to find solace in the fact that she isn't the only one in the world with inhibitions and doubts.
 
Marie's affection for Charlie is real and I get the message that her mother wants only the best for her.  I get the feeling that mother dislikes Charlie and this makes good conflict.
 
The way you have made other people view Marie's character is simply superb.
 
Of-course Uncle Edward has an eye for young ladies and his interest in his beloved niece, Marie, is to care for her, watch her interests, etc. but I will be watching Uncle Edward carefully as he minds my favourite character.
 
Aunt Connie's sense of fashion is described well, and her relentless search for the right man brought a smile to my face.
 
Your description of Lance's moustache brought a smile to my face because I had a moustache for several years before shaving it off and I identified with the "look".
 
Gerald's character intrigued me and I LOVE the way his character shows promise to develop.
 
I am sure you have researched the period very well, and I love the way you have
described your characters and the way of life during the Edwardian era.
 
Preparations for the picnic, descriptions of English soldiers and the camera scene was beautifully executed.
 
Alice's angst is well described.  She longs to be Mollie's wife; you described that angst and later allowed Mollie's character to act on that angst.
 
In general I know that what you have here is a superb period drama.  You have written in some humour, some sadness and some mystery.  I cannot help thinking that something is about to happen.  I do not think that the main theme is with Alice.  I have a feeling it is about Marie.  But then, this is just my opinion based on the first seven pages (according to my computer) and I may be wrong.
 
Thank you for sharing this glorious piece of writing.

2007-10-18