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I. THE SPRINGS OF WANDEL 31

together, and my mother became very imperative and particular about having her teacup set on one side of her little round table, Anne would observantly and punctiliously put it always on the other; which caused my mother to state to me, every morning after breakfast, gravely, that if ever a woman in this world was possessed by the Devil, Anne was that woman.1 But in spite of these momentary and petulant aspirations to liberality and independence of character, poor Anne remained very servile in soul all her days; and was altogether occupied, from the age of fifteen to seventy-two, in doing other people’s wills instead of her own, and seeking other people’s good instead of her own: nor did I ever hear on any occasion of her doing harm to a human being, except by saving two hundred and some odd pounds for her relations; in consequence of which some of them, after her funeral, did not speak to the rest for several months.

32. The dickey then aforesaid, being indispensable for our guard Anne, was made wide enough for two, that my father might go outside also when the scenery and day were fine. The entire equipage was not a light one of its

1 [For a later reference to this passage, see ii. § 233 (

below, p. 465). In noting the death of Anne in his diary, Ruskin gives some characteristic sayings of his mother:-

“31 March (1871). Coming home, find poor Annie dead. My mother’s epitaph upon her, ‘She always persecuted me. But one must hope there are intermediate kinds of places where people get better.’

“This morning (literal), ‘I think, of all the evil spirits I ever saw, she has acted worst to me. I blame myself entirely.’ (Pause, I wondering what was to come next.) ‘I ought to have sent her away three months after she came.’”

But, as we have seen, Mrs. Ruskin never sent away any servant (Vol. XIX. p. xxxvi.). For other references to Ruskin’s nurse, see Vol. XXII. p. xviii.; Vol. XXVIII. p. 317. Lady Burne-Jones, who saw Anne at Denmark Hill, thus describes her: “A white-haired, light-eyed, spare little figure, harsh and unattractive to our southern feeling. She had come as a bare-foot child into the service of the family, and was passionately devoted to her master and his son; but between her and her mistress relations were evidently strained, for I once heard Mrs. Ruskin address the aged dame in a tone such as one might use to a tiresome child, whilst Anne retorted with a want of deference that was certainly not the growth of the moment. But the best image to keep of the old nurse is that of her, having thrust all others aside, being first to mount the ladder reared in alarm against her old master’s window and to enter the locked room where he lay seized with mortal illness” (Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, vol. i. pp. 300-301).]

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[Version 0.04: March 2008]