The Life of Grace Dudley

Bright Hall

Since my last release of Grace's diary pages, a couple of things have happened. First, based on the observations made by Madeline on her visit here to Dudley House, I've decided to go ahead and strip away the wallpaper in the room I've come to call the lab. Madeline has asked that I allow her to bring a colleague on her next visit to assess the state of the specimens and do a little cataloging. I agreed. I have to admit my own knowledge in the medical field is limited to that of what is common knowledge. So, I really didn't know what to do with all these jars of... specimens.

Second, I've been experiencing a recent rash of "ding-dong-ditch." It's getting really annoying as the ditchers tend to do this late at night when I am in my pajamas and slippers. So, I have installed cameras at the door set up to record when there's any kind of motion. I know reading through Grace's journals that she believed she was haunted. I'm not out to discredit her beliefs or experiences in any way, but I do enjoy sleeping through the night undisturbed. So, if it's one of the neighborhood residents, I'll have a heart to heart with them. If it's a ghost, well, I'll issue an apology to Ms. Dudley as appropriate.

-Eli Brown

April 30, 1867: Evening

Dear Mother,

I decided to not do this as P.S. I am faced with two distinct events here, my morning and the train. The train ride hasn't been proving too erratic to write in my diary. The English countryside has been whizzing past my window. It's beautiful, even if it is a bit cold and rainy. I do like the rain. Nora has elected to come along to ensure we are properly settled and that my tutors get off to a suitable start in our new home. Perhaps she won't stay long.

There is the most fascinating automaton working through train cars selling snacks, drinks, and even cigars. I could hear the whirl and the ticking of its gears past the sound of the train clacking along the rails. It was able to receive money, give back change, and dispense the goods from its little cart before moving along to the next compartment. I think it might have been meant to mimic a woman, it had a, well, a bosom and the voice, while mechanical, was quite feminine and light. I guess being depicted as a female makes it less threatening to passengers who are not warmed up to the idea of automatons.

When we get to Bright Hall, I'm going to ask father if we can send for Jayne to come and visit sometime soon.

Dinner is here.

Love,

Grace

May 2, 1867

Dear Mother,

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. The English countryside was all a beautiful blur in the setting sun. When we arrived at the station, there was a carriage waiting, it was horse-drawn. I was expecting it to be horseless with the way that father was going on about modern convinces and the fact that I know there are, on the property, motor carriages. But, according to father, there was some nervousness from the staff within the house with the death of my Uncle and Aunt and motor carriages.

I have to admit, when I first saw Bright Hall, I was taken back by the immensity and undeniable lonesomeness. It reminded me more of a fortress to keep people out than a great house welcoming people in, massive in size, squared off, built from grey stone, and tall windows with blue and yellow stained-glass panels lit up from the inside and out in welcome of our arrival. All the servants were lined up outside the grand entrance, watching the carriage rumble in on the hard-packed gravel road, surrounded by well-manicured bushes and trees. Nothing looked to be out of place and meticulously groomed. It was that massive nature that made it feel so sad and lonely.

I thought to myself, what kind of life would anyone hope to live here? Were my aunt and uncle happy here? Were my grandparents happy here? I don't believe you or father were happy here, because, otherwise, why would you have moved to the United States while pregnant with me? Such a long trek for someone carrying a child.