We Three - Act 1 - Scene 5

CHAPTER 5 - 1857 FUNERAL OF MARY ANN WALKER, CHARLES’ MOTHER

ACT I, Scene 5

Scene: The Leopard Inn, York, 10.45 a.m. The women are in the dining area, with the large table behind holding plates, napkins and glasses, but the food not yet on it. The curtains are closed, and the mirrors are covered. The large grandfather clock is not working. (It has been stopped as a mark of respect.)

Characters:

Mrs. Elizabeth Eagle, 58, best friend of Mrs. Walker, whose family owns the Inn

Mary Eagle, 17, her daughter

Mrs. Mary Ann Thackray, 53, sister of George Walker

Aunt Ann Mayfield, 34, so called widow of Henry Mayfield, brother of the deceased

Mrs. Elizabeth Wilson, 44, from Worcester, sister of the deceased

Mary Wilson, 21, daughter of above

Mrs. Jane Clephan, 55, sister-in-law of the deceased

Mrs. Maria Cox, 60, sister-in-law of the deceased

Eliza Cox

Emily Hall

Mrs. Elisa Walker, 57, sister-in-law of the deceased

 

Mrs. Eagle: (trying to fight back tears, using her handkerchief, clearly edged in black
for mourning) Oh, my dearest friend, how am I going to get along without you?

Mary Eagle: Don’t take on so, Mother. You have to be strong today for Mr. Walker and for Charles.

Emily: It is at times like this when it is sad that Charles is the only child. It means the whole burden of comforting his father will fall to him.

Mrs. Maria Cox: George comes from a large family and you can be sure we will all stand behind him.

Eliza: But Mr. Walker will be on his own now. How will he cope? Will Charles have to move home again? He is very settled in Worcester.

Mrs. Elizabeth Wilson: We have discussed this, and Mary, my daughter, needs employment. She can come here and be George’s housekeeper.

Mrs. Ann Mayfield: Won’t she be shutting herself off from life if she does that? She deserves to have a life of her own, not being tied to looking after an old man.

 Mrs. Mary Ann Thackray: You can mind your own business. You are no relation of ours. I even wonder that you have the effrontery to come to this funeral meal.

Mrs. Ann Mayfield: I got along very well with Mary, you know that I did. She and Charles were very
supportive to me when Henry died.

Mrs. Elisa Walker: Yes, but not all of us agree that you should have been forgiven. Living in sin
with Henry all those years. Pretending to be married - having those children who now have to live with the stigma of their bastardy. I for one, wish you would go, right now.

Mary Eagle: Don’t please. Let us not make this day worse than it already is with squabbling. Don’t
forget that Charles is mourning his mother too, and he was the most vocal champion that Mrs. Mayfield had. It was he that made sure she got her inheritance, and he that organised the selling of her share of the taxi business. And he, I am sure, would want Mrs. Mayfield to be here today, for him.

Mrs. Ann Mayfield: Thank you, Mary dear.

Mrs. Jane Clephan: Well, stay if you will, but keep out of our business. If Mary Wilson wants to come here, live with George and be his housekeeper, that's up to her. And you do, don’t you Mary?

Mary Wilson: Yes, Aunt Jane.

Mrs. Eagle: They will be processing along to the church just about now. I wonder if we peek
out of the window we will see them.

Mrs. Maria Cox: What if someone sees us peeking. That is unseemly behaviour.

 Eliza: Well, I for one would like to see it. Emily, come with me, and we can go to the corner and
watch for it.

(the two young women go out)

Mrs. Eagle: Gawking at a funeral procession. They need their husbands here to tell them to behave like married women.

Mrs. Clephan: And leaving their babies behind. Who do they expect to deal with them if they cry?

Mary Wilson: I will deal with them, if they cry. Don’t worry. Aren’t they sweet with their little purple ribbons for mourning? Little Herrmann, just one, and they call him Hurley, isn't that lovely? And
dear Edward, only two. If I am not mistaken, I think Eliza is increasing again.

Mrs. Cox: Yes, dear. But changing the subject, it’s about time Charles was married, but I expect this death will put everything back by a year. Do you know if he has anyone in mind?

Mrs. Eagle: Not as far as we know. He always comes to visit us when he is in York, and I am sure he will continue to do that. He and my son, Robert, are great friends, and of course, Mary and he get along very well, don’t you, love?

Mary Eagle: (blushing) Yes, Mumma.

Mrs. Wilson: What a wonderful spread you have set out for us, Mrs. Eagle. Did your cook do it all?

Mrs. Thackray: We contributed some of the cakes, as did the Charles Walkers, and I helped by buying the cream cards with black edging and sending them off to the relatives.

Mrs. Eagle: My cook did the main courses but most of the sweets and cakes were donated. Mary was a much loved woman and so many have sent cards of condolence.

Mrs. Clephan: What exactly are we having?

Mrs. Eagle: I copied it from the January menu of Elizabeth Moxon’s Household Cookery book.

First Course. At the top, Gravy Soup, Fish. At the bottom, a Ham. In the middle,
stewed Oysters. For the four corners, A Fricassy of Rabbits, Scotch Collops, boiled Chickens, Calves Foot Pie

Second Course. At the top, Wild Ducks. At the bottom, a Turkey  In the centre, Lobster. In the four corners, Lemon Posse, Cream Curds, stewed Pears and preserved Quinces.

Mrs. Cox: Isn’t it a shame that we women are not allowed to go to the funeral itself? I wonder what Rev. Johnstone will say about Mary Ann. It was so sudden. When I last saw her she was in the pink.

Mrs. Clephan: I think it is easier for the person who dies if it happens suddenly. But much
harder on those who are left behind. Poor George doesn’t know what has happened. You should have seen her laid out before the funeral. George was broken-hearted, almost distracted, but, there, in the room, was the lifeless but beautiful form of his still young, lovely, and angelic wife, lying in her bed with her splendid hair covering her shoulders, and a heavenly expression of peace. (Several
of the women start sobbing, using their black edged handkerchiefs.)

Aunt Cox: I heard that he has a mourning ring.

Mrs. Walker: Yes, I‘ve seen it. It has the name and date of Mary Ann’s death on a black stone. There is a lock of her hair under the stone. But what worries me, is when he will get back to work.

Mrs. Eagle: Oh, my sons have offered to keep the cabs running until he is back on his feet again. If he loses his usual custom for a week, he might as well give up. Once a client goes to another cab company, he won’t come back. But the best thing for him will be to throw himself back into work again. Men aren’t expected to have a period of mourning like women. I expect he will wear a black armband for awhile, but he always wears a black suit anyway, so that is not any difference.

(Eliza and Emily come back into the house.)

Emily: Oh, it did look a very melancholy procession. The horses with black ostrich plumes carrying the very fancy coffin which was intricately carved and decorated with gilding.

Mrs. Thackray: We offered him some of our horses too, but he just wanted to use his own.

Emily: And there were two mutes, looking suitably mournful. I wouldn’t have thought that Mr. Walker
would have wanted that.

Mrs. Cox: Well, he would want to do the done thing, and people expect that from someone of some
standing in the community.

Eliza: Then came the choir. There must have been fifty men following the coffin. Poor Charles
looked more distressed than his father. He could hardly stand, for weeping so hard.

Mary Eagle: He did love his mother so. And she doted on him.

Mrs. Cox: Did you know that Charles asked Charley to do a reading. A poem that is quite modern,
but very appropriate, by substituting Mary Ann’s name for the one in the original poem. I have a copy here, and will read it to you, if you like.

All: Oh, yes, please do.

Mrs. Cox: To Mary Ann in Heaven

Death came upon thee in the storm: that hour

When thunder's quiver loosed its fiery hail;

Dread elemental scourge! resistless power,

That struckthe corn fields over hill and vale:

Midst such ruin vast we stood aghast,

While thou didst plume thy cherub-wings of fire,

And though the tempest raged in all its might,

Up didst thou soar, nor could the tempest dire

Stay for a moment thy celestial flight.

But thou art gone,(God's will be done)

To quaff the cup of bliss without allay:

For many a mingled draught was thine from birth,

Full many a tear has diminished thy languid eye;

Thy days of grief exceed those of mirth.

Dear Mary Ann! Still thy favourite roses bloom,

So often watered by thy careful hand;

Sweet emblem of thyself! to fade - their tomb,

Like thine, shall be their native "father-land".

The lime trees guardIan All Saints church-yard.

Thy mortal part, and there in sorrow deep

Thy child, and sisters, did thy loss bemoan:

They wept, and still thy woe-worn child weeps;

Nor is thy husband's harder heart a stone.

Ah! no - be an availing grief suppressed;

Our eye is on thee, on thy joy and light:

Our loss is thy blessed gain, for thou art blessed:

"Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"

Beneath the tree there now lie thee.

Once our loving sister, side by side:

Spring, hang thy dewy rosaries on their sod:

Heaven gone, and took away, that human pride

Might bow, For ever blessed be the name of God.

(Everyone is quiet and tearful for awhile after the reading. Mrs. Thackray turns to the young mothers.)

Mrs. Thackray: Well, you will be pleased to know your children were silent while you so thoughtlessly rushed off and left them without even asking us to care for them.

Eliza: Well, Mrs. Cox is Edward’s grandmother, after all, and she was here. I felt it was
important that we should witness it. The bells, tolling 53 times, once for every year she lived. It was very solemn.

Emily: I’m sorry, we should have asked. But I am pleased Hurley didn’t disturb anyone. I will
go in and check on them now, Eliza.

Mrs. Mayfield: Did the Rev. Johnstone lead the procession?

Eliza: No, Mr. Singleton, the undertaker did, and then he came next and then the mutes, followed by
Mr. Walker and Charles. There were ever so many mourners. I wondered who half of them were, as many weren’t ones I recognised as relatives.

Mrs. Thackray: The family is well esteemed here, and even though Mary Ann was not born here, she
has lived here with George all her married life. And she got involved in many good works through the church. I fully expect to see a hundred here for the burial feast. Do you think we have sufficient?

Mrs. Eagle: Yes, thank goodness, I was able to borrow extra plates and cups from the inn up the road, but I am confident that we will have enough for all. I wonder what time they will be back here. The men will perhaps have a drink in the bar before the come in for their dinner.

Mrs. Cox: Yes, I am sure they will do that. If we are ready with tea for 1 p.m., and not be
surprised if it is closer to 2 when they come through, I think that should about do it.

Mrs. Walker: I was disappointed there wasn’t more than just an announcement of her death in the
paper. I was hoping they would include something about her life.

Mrs. Wilson: Mary was never one for putting herself forward. She was rather quiet and shy, and
wouldn’t like the idea of publicity at her death, any more than she would have welcomed it in her life.

Mrs. Eagles: Well, I think there is time for us all to have a cup of tea before they all return. Mary
will you go and arrange it?

Mary Eagle: Yes, Mother.

(Mary goes off and the curtain goes down.)