The Story of My Heart, 1883

CHAPTER I: THE STORY OF MY HEART [published Oct. 1883] commences seventeen years ago. In the glow of youth there were times every now and then when I felt the necessity of a strong inspiration of soul thought. My heart was dusty, parched for want of the rain of deep feeling; my mind arid and dry, for there is a dust which settles on the heart as well as that which falls on a ledge. ... When this began to form I felt eager to escape from it, to throw off the heavy clothing, to drink deeply once more at the fresh fountains of life. An inspiration―a long deep breath of the pure air of thought―could alone give health to the heart. There is a hill [Liddington] to which I used to resort at such periods. The labour of walking three miles to it, all the while gradually ascending, seemed to clear my blood of the heaviness accumulated at home. On a warm summer day the slow continued rise required continual effort, which carried away the sense of oppression.... I began to breathe a new air and to have a fresher aspiration. ... Moving up the sweet short turf, at every step my heart seemed to obtain a wider horizon of feeling; with every inhalation of rich pure air, a deeper desire. The very light of the sun was whiter and more brilliant here. By the time I had reached the summit I had entirely forgotten the petty circumstances and the annoyances of existence. I felt myself, myself.

09 December 2011

Memorial event 16th March 2012 Eltham Churchyard

Richard Oliver Launcelot Jefferies (18th July 1883 – 16th March 1885) memorial – ceremony at St John’s Churchyard, Eltham on Friday 16 March 2012 at 2pm


Richard and Jessie’s baby son (known as Oliver) died, aged only twenty months old, whilst the Jefferies’ family were living at 14 Victoria Road, Eltham (now 59 Footscray Road). 
 The Eltham Society are placing an inscribed stone to mark where Oliver was buried in St John’s Churchyard in a grave that was once marked by a simple wooden cross.
Harold Jefferies (Richard & Jessie’s first born son) recounted the death of his baby brother as ‘a terrible blow to father. His suffering, which was far greater than that of the child, prevented him from attending the funeral, and mother and I were, I believe, alone in the coach to Eltham church. The agonised expression on father’s face, as he stood at the open door watching the little cortège slowly move away, haunted my mind for many years,’ (Worthing Calvacade, Richard Jefferies: My Father by his son, 1944, p.19-20).
The Eltham Society want to mark the occasion by holding a small ceremony in the churchyard to which, they hope, Members of the Richard Jefferies Society might join them and perhaps do a reading or say a few words. They have chosen 16th March for the event - the anniversary of the date the baby died. Whilst in the area, Members might also like to take a look at the outside of the house where the Jefferies’ family were living (it bears a memorial plaque), about a 15 minute walk from the churchyard.