At one time at Baynton House Constance’s place of punishment was in one of the empty garrets. The house was built in the shape of an E, and there was a parapet round the best part of the house. She used to climb out of the window and up the bend to the top of the roof and slide down the other side. She tied an old fur across her chest to act the monkey and call it playing Cromwell. To return she got through the window of another garret. The governess was puzzled at always finding the door unlocked with the key left in. The servants were questioned, but of course knew nothing. One day she found Constance and her brother out on the ledge, and told them not to do it as it was dangerous. Next time when she did climb out she found the window fastened. She could not climb back the way she came, but just where the parapet ended was the window of a room where the groom slept. She reached across and climbed through, and though she upset and broke a jug on the washstand, the cat got the credit for this. Afterwards, she heard that her father did not approve of the window being fastened to trap her, and said that when unruly she could be shut in the study, the room where her father wrote and kept his papers. Being on the ground floor she easily got out of the window and passed her time climbing the trees in the shrubbery, also displaying a very cruel disposition by impaling slugs and snails on sticks in trees, calling these crucifixions. The affection between Constance and the governess no longer existed.
Meanwhile, Miss Pratt’s position in the household had become the subject of unfavourable comment. Mr. Kent’s eldest surviving son, Edward, nine years older than Constance, seems to have been the first to express disapproval. It is reported that one morning when he was at home at Sidmouth on his holidays, he met his father coming out of the governess’s room which happened to be next to his. A scene took place between father and son, as a result of which the latter was promptly sent back to school. After this Edward was very rarely at home. He took to the sea as a profession, and died at Havana of yellow fever in 1858.
At this time Constance was too young to notice anything of this. But as she grew up her childish recollections began to assume significance. She realized that there had been something mysterious about the treatment of her mother.
Why did her mother, when speaking to her, often call herself, your poor mamma, which the governess said was silly? Why was the governess taken out for drives and her mother never? Why was her father in the library with the governess while the rest of the family was with her mother? She remembered many little incidents which seemed strange. One was during a thunderstorm, when the governess acted as though she were frightened and rushed over to her father who drew her down on his knee and kissed her. The governess exclaimed: “Oh, not before the child!” Though her mother seemed to feel being placed in the background, why did she not resent it and assert herself?1
The relations between Mr. Kent and the governess can only be conjectural and they do not concern us directly. But in the light of subsequent events, we are bound to consider the effect of them upon a child of the passionate nature of Constance. An antagonism developed between the two, which increased after Mr. Kent’s second marriage. By this time her stepmother seems to have given Constance up in despair, and made no attempt to propitiate her. In any case, Constance would have been a difficult child to propitiate if contemporary accounts of her are to be believed. On the other hand, the second Mrs. Kent seems to have shown very little sympathy with the children of the first family. These were kept under constant surveillance and their friendships very strictly regulated. On one occasion the two eldest girls made friends with the daughters of two neighbouring families, but as these families showed a reluctance to call upon the Kents, probably owing to their disapproval of Mrs. Kent, orders were issued that these friendships must cease and the prohibition was extended to the younger children.
One day when Constance and her brother were supposed to be attending to their little garden behind the shrubbery, they heard some merry laughter from the neighbouring garden. They went to the hedge and looked over longingly at the children playing with visitors. They were invited to join, but were afraid. They were seen and their disobedience punished. The little gardens were uprooted and trampled down. Constance made some futile efforts to revive hers. No pets were allowed, two little tropical birds sent by the eldest son to his sisters were confined to a cold back room and died.
There was no evidence of direct cruelty on the part of the second Mrs. Kent towards Constance. She seems to have misunderstood the child’s nature and Constance, in turn, was undoubtedly resentful of authority. At school she was perpetually in trouble, mainly through the deliberate perverseness of her attitude. She became, apparently as the result of her behaviour, the odd man out of the family. She certainly seems to have been a difficult child to get on with.
We are told1 that she did not always come home for holidays. On one occasion when she did, no one took any notice. She might just have come in from a walk. She was sitting at a window rather disconsolately when her stepmother wanted her to do some mending. She refused, and her stepmother said:
“Do you know that only for me you would have remained at school? When I said you were coming one of your sisters exclaimed: ‘What, that tiresome girl!’ So you see, they do not want you.”
As a result of this kind of treatment she made up her mind that she was not wanted and that everyone was against her. She formed, for a girl of her age and period, the most extraordinary resolution. This was nothing less than to dress up as a boy and run away to sea. She had acquired considerable influence over her brother, William, who was a year younger than she was. Mr. Stapleton’s account2 of her attempt to put her resolution into practice may well be quoted:
In this escapade, which was planned and executed by Constance, her younger brother William seems to have been a passive and compliant agent in his sister’s hands. During the holidays, June 1856, they had been at home from school together. Their holidays had already expired, but they had been kept at home for a few days longer pending the return of their father from an absence on business in Devonshire. There is no evidence to show that any recent or particular fracas had happened during Mr. Kent’s absence. But at all events, in the afternoon of the day before Mr. Kent’s return, Constance and William were not to be found. An alarm was at once raised. Search was made but without success.
Now comes rather a curious point. Constance needed a safe hiding-place for her own purposes. The earth-closet in the shrubbery occurred to her, whether or not for the first time it is impossible to say. We may continue the story in Mr. Stapleton’s own words:
After lunch on the day she left home, she went down to the closet in the shrubbery, put on some old clothes of her brother William’s which she had secreted and mended, and cut off her hair, which she flung with her own clothes into the vault of the closet. She then started with her brother on a walk of ten miles to Bath, where they arrived in the evening. They went to the Greyhound Hotel where they asked for beds.
Their appearance excited the suspicions of the landlady, and they were questioned by her. Constance was very self-possessed and even insolent in her manner and language. William soon broke down and burst into tears. He was placed in bed at the inn, and as nothing could be done with Constance, the police were called in and she was given into custody for the night. She allowed herself to be separated from her brother, and was taken to the Central Police Station where she spent the night in the common detention room, maintaining the most resolute bearing and a determined silence as to her history. Early in the morning their father’s servant discovered them and took them home. Upon Mr. Kent’s return the same day, William at once expressed the greatest sorrow and contrition and sobbed bitterly. Constance for many days continued in solitude and gave no evidence of regret or shame at her conduct. At last she said she wished to be independent, and her object appears to have been to reach Bristol and to leave England with her brother.
That a girl of twelve should have behaved with so much-resolution is almost incredible. The incident, however, is confirmed from many other sources. Constance possessed both shrewdness and determination, and was not likely to let any consideration whatever stand in her way. Shortly after this, she was sent to another school, kept by relatives of