diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:48 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:48 -0700 |
| commit | 0458fa013443ad04c3fad0daa9ddd9e0ffd48c46 (patch) | |
| tree | 76d9282b27dbdd2a87f1a97bd53e6977d76e788b /9822-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '9822-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/9822-h.htm | 8347 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image0.jpg | bin | 0 -> 85394 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image1.jpg | bin | 0 -> 93201 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image2.jpg | bin | 0 -> 81896 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image3.jpg | bin | 0 -> 133422 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image4.jpg | bin | 0 -> 97703 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image5.jpg | bin | 0 -> 81593 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9822-h/images/image6.jpg | bin | 0 -> 79277 bytes |
8 files changed, 8347 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/9822-h/9822-h.htm b/9822-h/9822-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3afb113 --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/9822-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8347 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + Beaux & Belles of England, + by Mrs. Mary Robinson. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + BODY { margin-left: 5em; + margin-right: 5em; } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: monospace; } + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaux and Belles of England, by Mary Robinson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Beaux and Belles of England + Mrs. Mary Robinson, Written by Herself, With the Lives of + the Duchesses of Gordon and Devonshire by Grace and Phillip + Wharton + +Author: Mary Robinson + +Posting Date: October 29, 2011 [EBook #9822] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: October 21, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUX AND BELLES OF ENGLAND *** + + + + +Produced by Stan Goodman and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<a name="image-0"><!-- Image 0 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image0.jpg" height="796" width="525" +alt="The Attempted Abduction, Original painting by B. Wesley Rand"><br> +The Attempted Abduction, Original painting by B. Wesley Rand +</center> + +<h1>Beaux & Belles of England:<br> +Mrs. Mary Robinson</h1> + +<center> +<p>Written by Herself</p> + +<p>With the Lives of the Duchesses of Gordon +and Devonshire by Grace and Philip Wharton</p> + +<p>London, EDITION DE LUXE</p> +</center> + +<hr> + +<h2>TABLE OF CONTENTS</h2> + +<p><a href="#introduction">INTRODUCTION TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION</a></p> +<p><a href="#preface">EDITOR'S PREFACE</a></p> +<p><a href="#illustrations">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</a></p> +<p><a href="#chapter1">MRS. MARY ROBINSON</a></p> +<p><a href="#chapter2">CONTINUATION</a></p> +<p><a href="#chapter3">JANE, DUCHESS OF GORDON</a></p> +<p><a href="#chapter4">GEORGIANA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE</a></p> +<p><a href="#endnotes">ENDNOTES</a></p> + +<hr> + +<a name="introduction"></a> +<h2>INTRODUCTION TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION</h2> + +<p> +The following brief memoirs of a beautiful, engaging, and, in many +respects, highly gifted woman require little in the way of introduction. +While we may trace same little negative disingenuousness in the writer, +in regard to a due admission of her own failings, sufficient of +uncoloured matter of fact remains to show the exposed situation of an +unprotected beauty—or, what is worse, of a female of great personal and +natural attraction, exposed to the gaze of libertine rank and fashion, +under the mere nominal guardianship of a neglectful and profligate +husband. Autobiography of this class is sometimes dangerous; not so that +of Mrs. Robinson, who conceals not the thorns inherent in the paths +along which vice externally scatters roses; For the rest, the +arrangement of princely establishments in the way of amour is pleasantly +portrayed in this brief volume, which in many respects is not without +its moral. One at least is sufficiently obvious, and it will be found in +the cold-hearted neglect which a woman of the most fascinating mental +and personal attractions may encounter from those whose homage is merely +sensual, and whose admiration is but a snare. +</p> + +<hr> + +<a name="preface"></a> +<h2>EDITOR'S PREFACE</h2> + +<p> +The author of these memoirs, Mary Robinson, was one of the most +prominent and eminently beautiful women of her day. From the description +she furnishes of her personal appearance, we gather that her complexion +was dark, her eyes large, her features expressive of melancholy; and +this verbal sketch corresponds with her portrait, which presents a face +at once grave, refined, and charming. Her beauty, indeed, was such as to +attract, amongst others, the attentions of Lords Lyttelton and +Northington, Fighting Fitzgerald, Captain Ayscough, and finally the +Prince of Wales; whilst her talents and conversation secured her the +friendship and interest of David Garrick, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, +Charles James Fox, Joshua Reynolds, Arthur Murphy, the dramatist, and +various other men of distinguished talent. +</p> +<p> +Though her memoirs are briefly sketched, they are sufficiently vivid to +present us with various pictures of the social life of the period of +which she was the centre. Now we find her at the Pantheon, with its +coloured lamps and brilliant music, moving amidst a fashionable crowd, +where large hoops and high feathers abounded, she herself dressed in a +habit of pale pink satin trimmed with sable, attracting the attention of +men of fashion. Again she is surrounded by friends at Vauxhall Gardens, +and barely escapes from a cunning plot to abduct her,—a plot in which +loaded pistols and a waiting coach prominently figure; whilst on another +occasion she is at Ranelagh, where, in the course of the evening, half a +dozen gallants "evinced their attentions;" and ultimately she makes her +first appearance as an actress on the stage of Drury Lane, before a +brilliant house, David Garrick, now retired, watching her from the +orchestra, whilst she played Juliet in pink satin richly spangled with +silver, her head ornamented with white feathers. +</p> +<p> +The fact of her becoming an actress brought about the turning-point in +her life; it being whilst she played Perdita in "The Winter's Tale" +before royalty that she attracted the Prince of Wales, afterward George +IV., who was then in his eighteenth year. The incidents which follow are +so briefly treated in the memoirs that explanations are necessary to +those who would follow the story of her life. +</p> +<p> +The performance of the play in which the prince saw her, probably for +the first time, took place on the 3d of December, 1779. It was not until +some months later, during which the prince and Perdita corresponded, +that she consented to meet him at Kew, where his education was being +continued and strict guard kept upon his conduct. During 1780 he urged +his father to give him a commission in the army, but, dreading the +liberty which would result from such a step, the king refused the +request. It was, however, considered advisable to provide the prince +with a small separate establishment in a wing of Buckingham House; this +arrangement taking place On the 1st of January, 1781. +</p> +<p> +Being now his own master, the prince became a man about town, attended +routs, masquerades, horse-races, identified himself with politicians +detested by the king, set up an establishment for Mrs. Robinson, +gambled, drank, and in a single year spent ten thousand pounds on +clothes. He now openly appeared in the company of Perdita at places of +public resort and amusement; she, magnificently dressed, driving a +splendid equipage which had cost him nine hundred guineas, and +surrounded by his friends. We read that: "To-day she was a <i>paysanne,</i> +with her straw hat tied at the back of her head. Yesterday she perhaps +had been the dressed belle of Hyde Park, trimmed, powdered, patched, +painted to the utmost power of rouge and white lead; to-morrow she would +be the cravated Amazon of the riding-house; but, be she what she might, +the hats of the fashionable promenaders swept the ground as she passed." +</p> +<p> +This life lasted about two years, when, just as the prince, on his +coming of age, was about to take possession of Carlton House, to receive +£30,000 from the nation toward paying his debts, and an annuity of +£63,000, he absented himself from Perdita, leaving her in ignorance of +the cause of his change, which was none other than an interest in Mrs. +Grace Dalrymple Elliott. +</p> +<p> +In the early fervour of his fancy, he had assured Mrs. Robinson his love +would remain unchangeable till death, and that he would prove +unalterable to his Perdita through life. Moreover, his generosity being +heated by passion, he gave her a bond promising to pay her £20,000 on +his coming of age. +</p> +<p> +On the prince separating from her, Perdita found herself some £7,000 in +debt to tradespeople, who became clamorous for their money, whereon she +wrote to her royal lover, who paid her no heed; but presently she was +visited by his friend, Charles James Fox, when she agreed to give up her +bond in consideration of receiving an annuity of £500 a year. +</p> +<p> +She would now gladly have gone back to the stage, but that she feared +the hostility of public opinion. Shortly after, she went to Paris, and +on her return to England devoted herself to literature. It was about +this time she entered into relations with Colonel—afterward Sir +Banastre—Tarleton, who was born in the same year as herself, and had +served in the American army from 1776 until the surrender of Yorktown, +on which he returned to England. For many years he sat in Parliament as +the representative of Liverpool, his native town; and in 1817 he gained +the grade of lieutenant-general, and was created a baronet. His +friendship with Mrs. Robinson lasted some sixteen years. +</p> +<p> +It was whilst undertaking a journey on his behalf, at a time when he was +in pecuniary difficulties, that she contracted the illness that resulted +in her losing the active use of her lower limbs. This did not prevent +her from working, and she poured out novels, poems, essays on the +condition of women, and plays. A communication written by her to John +Taylor, the proprietor of the <i>Sun</i> newspaper and author of various +epilogues, prologues, songs, etc., gives a view of her life. This +letter, now published for the first time, is contained in the famous +Morrison collection of autograph letters, and is dated the 5th of +October, 1794. +</p> +<p> +"I was really happy to receive your letter. Your silence gave me no +small degree of uneasiness, and I began to think some demon had broken +the links of that chain which I trust has united us in friendship for +ever. Life is such a scene of trouble and disappointment that the +sensible mind can ill endure the loss of any consolation that renders it +supportable. How, then, can it be possible that we should resign, +without a severe pang, the first of all human blessings, the friend we +love? Never give me reason again, I conjure you, to suppose you have +wholly forgot me. +</p> +<p> +"Now I will impart to you a secret, which must not be revealed. I think +that before the 10th of December next I shall quit England for ever. My +dear and valuable brother, who is now in Lancashire, wishes to persuade +me, and the unkindness of the world tends not a little to forward his +hopes. I have no relations in England except my darling girl, and, I +fear, few friends. Yet, my dear Juan, I shall feel a very severe +struggle in quitting those paths of fancy I have been childish enough to +admire,—false prospects. They have led me into the vain expectation +that fame would attend my labours, and my country be my pride. How have +I been treated? I need only refer you to the critiques of last month, +and you will acquit me of unreasonable instability. When I leave +England,—adieu to the muse for ever,—I will never publish another line +while I exist, and even those manuscripts now finished I will destroy. +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps this will be no loss to the world, yet I may regret the many +fruitless hours I have employed to furnish occasions for malevolence and +persecution. +</p> +<p> +"In every walk of life I have been equally unfortunate, but here shall +end my complaints. +</p> +<p> +"I shall return to St. James's Place for a few days this month to meet +my brother, who then goes to York for a very short time, and after his +return (the end of November), I depart. This must be secret, for to my +other misfortunes pecuniary derangement is not the least. Let common +sense judge how I can subsist upon £500 a year, when my carriage (a +necessary expense) alone costs me £200. My mental labours have failed +through the dishonest conduct of my publishers. My works have sold +handsomely, but the profits have been theirs. +</p> +<p> +"Have I not reason to be disgusted when I see him to whom I ought to +look for better fortune lavishing favours on unworthy objects, +gratifying the avarice of ignorance and dulness, while I, who sacrificed +reputation, an advantageous profession, friends, patronage, the +brilliant hours of youth, and the conscious delight of correct conduct, +am condemned to the scanty pittance bestowed on every indifferent page +who holds up his ermined train of ceremony? +</p> +<p> +"You will say, 'Why trouble me with all this?' I answer, 'Because when I +am at peace, you may be in possession of my real sentiments and defend +my cause when I shall not have the power of doing it.' +</p> +<p> +"My comedy has been long in the hands of a manager, but whether it will +ever be brought forward time must decide. You know, my dear friend, what +sort of authors have lately been patronised by managers; their pieces +ushered to public view, with all the advantages of splendour; yet I am +obliged to wait two long years without a single hope that a trial would +be granted. Oh, I am tired of the world and all its mortifications. I +promise you this shall close my chapters of complaints. Keep them, and +remember how ill I have been treated." +</p> +<p> +Eight days later she wrote to the same friend: +</p> +<p> +"In wretched spirits I wrote you last week a most melancholy letter. +Your kind answer consoled me. The balsam of pure and disinterested +friendship never fails to cure the mind's sickness, particularly when it +proceeds from disgust at the ingratitude of the world." +</p> +<p> +The play to which she referred was probably that mentioned in the sequel +to her memoirs, which was unhappily a failure. It is notable that the +principal character in the farce was played by Mrs. Jordan, who was +later to become the victim of a royal prince, who left her to die in +poverty and exile. +</p> +<p> +The letter of another great actress, Sarah Siddons, written to John +Taylor, shows kindness and compassion toward Perdita. +</p> +<p> +"I am very much obliged to Mrs. Robinson," says Mrs. Siddons, "for her +polite attention in sending me her poems. Pray tell her so with my +compliments. I hope the poor, charming woman has quite recovered from +her fall. If she is half as amiable as her writings, I shall long for +the possibility of being acquainted with her. I say the possibility, +because one's whole life is one continual sacrifice of inclinations, +which to indulge, however laudable or innocent, would draw down the +malice and reproach of those prudent people who never do ill, 'but feed +and sleep and do observances to the stale ritual of quaint ceremony.' +The charming and beautiful Mrs. Robinson: I pity her from the bottom +of my soul." +</p> +<p> +Almost to the last she retained her beauty, and delighted in receiving +her friends and learning from them news of the world in which she could +no longer move. Reclining on her sofa in the little drawing-room of her +house in St. James's Place, she was the centre of a circle which +comprised many of those who had surrounded her in the days of her +brilliancy, amongst them being the Prince of Wales and his brother the +Duke of York. +</p> +<p> +Possibly, for the former, memory lent her a charm which years had not +utterly failed to dispel. +</p> +<p> +J. Fitzgerald Molloy. +</p> + +<hr> + +<a name="illustrations"></a> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<p><a href="#image-0">The Attempted Abduction</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-1">Lady Lyttellon</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-2">William Brereton in the Character of Douglas</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-3">The First Meeting of Mrs. Robinson and the Prince of Wales</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-4">Mrs. Robinson</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-5">The Prince of Wales</a></p> +<p><a href="#image-6">Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire</a></p> + +<hr> + +<a name="chapter1"></a> +<h2>MRS. MARY ROBINSON</h2> + +<p> +At the period when the ancient city of Bristol was besieged by Fairfax's +army, the troops being stationed on a rising ground in the vicinity of +the suburbs, a great part of the venerable minster was destroyed by the +cannonading before Prince Rupert surrendered to the enemy; and the +beautiful Gothic structure, which at this moment fills the contemplative +mind with melancholy awe, was reduced to but little more than one-half +of the original fabric. Adjoining to the consecrated hill, whose antique +tower resists the ravages of time, once stood a monastery of monks of +the order of St. Augustine. This building formed a part of the spacious +boundaries which fell before the attacks of the enemy, and became a part +of the ruin, which never was repaired or re-raised to its former Gothic +splendours. +</p> +<p> +On this spot was built a private house, partly of simple, and partly of +modern architecture. The front faced a small garden, the gates of which +opened to the Minster Green (now called the College Green); the west +side was bounded by the cathedral, and the back was supported by the +ancient cloisters of St. Augustine's monastery. A spot more calculated +to inspire the soul with mournful meditation can scarcely be found +amidst the monuments of antiquity. +</p> +<p> +In this venerable mansion there was one chamber whose dismal and +singular constructure left no doubt of its having been a part of the +original monastery. It was supported by the mouldering arches of the +cloisters, dark, Gothic, and opening on the minster sanctuary, not only +by casement windows that shed a dim midday gloom, but by a narrow +winding staircase, at the foot of which an iron-spiked door led to the +long gloomy path of cloistered solitude. This place remained in the +situation in which I describe it in the year 1776, and probably may, in +a more ruined state, continue so to this hour. +</p> +<p> +In this awe-inspiring habitation, which I shall henceforth denominate +the Minster House, during a tempestuous night, on the 27th of November, +1758, I first opened my eyes to this world of duplicity and sorrow. I +have often heard my mother say that a mare stormy hour she never +remembered. The wind whistled round the dark pinnacles of the minster +tower, and the rain beat in torrents against the casements of her +chamber. Through life the tempest has followed my footsteps, and I have +in vain looked for a short interval of repose from the perseverance +of sorrow. +</p> +<p> +In the male line I am descended from a respectable family in Ireland, +the original name of which was MacDermott. From an Irish estate, my +great-grandfather changed it to that of Darby. My father, who was born +in America, was a man of strong mind, high spirit, and great personal +intrepidity. Many anecdotes, well authenticated, and which, being +irrefragable, are recorded as just tributes to his fame and memory, +shall, in the course of these memoirs, confirm this assertion. +</p> +<p> +My mother was the grandchild of Catherine Seys, one of the daughters and +co-heiresses of Richard Sey's, Esq., of Boverton Castle, in +Glamorganshire. The sister of my great-grandmother, named Anne, married +Peter, Lord King, who was nephew, in the female line, to the learned and +truly illustrious John Locke—a name that has acquired celebrity which +admits of no augmented panegyric. +</p> +<p> +Catherine Seys was a woman of great piety and virtue—a character which +she transferred to her daughter, and which has also been acknowledged as +justly due to her sister, Lady King.[<a href="#note-1">1</a>] She quitted this life when my +grandmother was yet a child, leaving an only daughter, whose father also +died while she was in her infancy. By this privation of paternal care my +grandmother became the <i>élève</i> of her mother's father, and passed the +early part of her life at the family castle in Glamorganshire. From this +period till the marriage of my mother, I can give but a brief account. +All I know is, that my grandmother, though wedded unhappily, to the +latest period of her existence was a woman of amiable and simple +manners, unaffected piety, and exemplary virtue. I remember her well; +and I speak not only from report, but from my own knowledge. She died in +the year 1780. +</p> +<p> +My grandmother Elizabeth, whom I may, without the vanity of +consanguinity, term a truly good woman, in the early part of her life +devoted much of her time to botanic study. She frequently passed many +successive months with Lady Tynt, of Haswell, in Somersetshire, who was +her godmother, and who was the Lady Bountiful of the surrounding +villages. Animated by so distinguished an example, the young Elizabeth, +who was remarkably handsome,[<a href="#note-2">2</a>] took particular delight in visiting the +old, the indigent, and the infirm, resident within many miles of +Haswell, and in preparing such medicines as were useful to the maladies +of the peasantry. She was the village doctress, and, with her worthy +godmother, seldom passed a day without exemplifying the benevolence of +her nature. +</p> +<p> +My mother was born at Bridgwater, in Somersetshire, in the house near +the bridge, which is now occupied by Jonathan Chub, Esq., a relation of +my beloved and lamented parent, and a gentleman who, to acknowledged +worth and a powerful understanding, adds a superior claim to attention +by all the acquirements of a scholar and a philosopher. +</p> +<p> +My mother, who never was what may be called a handsome woman, had +nevertheless, in her youth, a peculiarly neat figure, and a vivacity of +manner which obtained her many suitors. Among others, a young gentleman +of good family, of the name of Storr, paid his addresses. My father was +the object of my mother's choice, though her relations rather wished her +to form a matrimonial alliance with Mr. S. The conflict between +affection and duty was at length decided in favour of my father, and the +rejected lover set out in despair for Bristol. From thence, in a few +days after his arrival, he took his passage in a merchantman for a +distant part of the globe; and from that hour no intelligence ever +arrived of his fate or fortune. I have often heard my mother speak of +this gentleman with regret and sorrow. +</p> +<p> +My mother was between twenty and thirty years of age at the period of +her marriage. The ceremony was performed at Dunyatt, in the county of +Somerset. My father was shortly after settled at Bristol, and during the +second year after their union a son was born to bless and +honour them.[<a href="#note-3">3</a>] +</p> +<p> +Three years after my mother gave birth to a daughter, named Elizabeth, +who died of the smallpox at the age of two years and ten months. In the +second winter following this event, which deeply afflicted the most +affectionate of parents, I was born. She had afterward two sons: +William, who died at the age of six years; and George, who is now a +respectable merchant at Leghorn, in Tuscany. +</p> +<p> +All the offspring of my parents were, in their infancy, uncommonly +handsome, excepting myself. The boys were fair and lusty, with auburn +hair, light blue eyes, and countenances peculiarly animated and lovely, +I was swarthy; my eyes were singularly large in proportion to my face, +which was small and round, exhibiting features peculiarly marked with +the most pensive and melancholy cast. +</p> +<p> +The great difference betwixt my brothers and myself, in point of +personal beauty, tended much to endear me to my parents, particularly to +my father, whom I strongly resembled. The early propensities of my life +were tinctured with romantic and singular characteristics; some of which +I shall here mention, as proofs that the mind is never to be diverted +from its original bent, and that every event of my life has more or less +been marked by the progressive evils of a too acute sensibility. +</p> +<p> +The nursery in which I passed my hours of infancy was so near the great +aisle of the minster that the organ, which reechoed its deep tones, +accompanied by the chanting of the choristers, was distinctly heard both +at morning and evening service. I remember with what pleasure I used to +listen, and how much I was delighted whenever I was permitted to sit on +the winding steps which led from the aisle to the cloisters. I can at +this moment recall to memory the sensations I then experienced—the +tones that seemed to thrill through my heart, the longing which I felt +to unite my feeble voice to the full anthem, and the awful though +sublime impression which the church service never failed to make upon my +feelings. While my brothers were playing on the green before the +minster, the servant who attended us has often, by my earnest +entreaties, suffered me to remain beneath the great eagle which stood in +the centre of the aisle, to support the book from which the clergyman +read the lessons of the day; and nothing could keep me away, even in the +coldest seasons, but the stern looks of an old man, whom I named Black +John from the colour of his beard and complexion, and whose occupations +within the sacred precincts were those of a bell-ringer and sexton. +</p> +<p> +As soon as I had learned to read, my great delight was that of learning +epitaphs and monumental inscriptions. A story of melancholy import never +failed to excite my attention; and before I was seven years old I could +correctly repeat Pope's "Lines to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady;" +Mason's "Elegy on the Death of the Beautiful Countess of Coventry," and +many smaller poems on similar subjects. I had then been attended two +years by various masters. Mr. Edmund Broadrip taught me music, my father +having presented me with one of Kirkman's finest harpsichords, as an +incitement to emulation. Even there my natural bent of mind evinced +itself. The only melody which pleased me was that of the mournful and +touching kind. Two of my earliest favourites were the celebrated ballad +by Gay, beginning, "'Twas when the sea was roaring," and the simple +pathetic stanzas of "The Heavy Hours," by the poet Lord Lyttelton. +These, though nature had given me but little voice, I could at seven +years of age sing so pathetically that my mother, to the latest hour of +her life,' never could bear to hear the latter of them repeated. They +reminded her of sorrows in which I have since painfully learned to +sympathise. +</p> +<p> +The early hours of boarding-school study I passed under the tuition of +the Misses More, sisters to the lady of that name whose talents have +been so often celebrated.[<a href="#note-4">4</a>] The education of their young pupils was +undertaken by the five sisters. "In my mind's eye," I see them now +before me; while every circumstance of those early days is minutely and +indelibly impressed upon my memory. +</p> +<p> +I remember the first time I ever was present at a dramatic +representation: it was the benefit of that great actor[<a href="#note-5">5</a>] who was +proceeding rapidly toward the highest paths of fame, when death, dropped +the oblivious curtain, and closed the scene for ever. The part which he +performed was King Lear; his wife, afterward Mrs. Fisher, played +Cordelia, but not with sufficient <i>éclat</i> to render the profession an +object for her future exertions. The whole school attended, Mr. Powel's +two daughters being then pupils of the Misses More. Mrs. John Kemble, +then Miss P. Hopkins, was also one of my schoolfellows, as was the +daughter of Mrs. Palmer, formerly Miss Pritchard, and afterward Mrs. +Lloyd. I mention these circumstances merely to prove that memory does +not deceive me. +</p> +<p> +In my early days my father was prosperous, and my mother was the +happiest of wives. She adored her children; she devoted her thoughts and +divided her affections between them and the tenderest of husbands. Their +spirits now, I trust, are in happier regions, blest, and reunited +for ever. +</p> +<p> +If there could be found a fault in the conduct of my mother toward her +children, it was that of a too unlimited indulgence, a too tender care, +which but little served to arm their breast against the perpetual arrows +of mortal vicissitude. My father's commercial concerns were crowned with +prosperity. His house was opened by hospitality, and his generosity was +only equalled by the liberality of fortune: every day augmented his +successes; every hour seemed to increase his domestic felicity, till I +attained my ninth year, when a change took place as sudden as it was +unfortunate, at a moment when every luxury, every happiness, not only +brightened the present, but gave promise of future felicity. A scheme +was suggested to my father, as wild and romantic as it was perilous to +hazard, which was no less than that of establishing a whale fishery on +the coast of Labrador, and of civilising the Esquimaux Indians, in order +to employ them in the extensive undertaking. During two years this +eccentric plan occupied his thoughts by day, his dreams by night: all +the smiles of prosperity could not tranquillise the restless spirit, and +while he anticipated an acquirement of fame, he little considered the +perils that would attend his fortune. +</p> +<p> +My mother (who, content with affluence and happy in beholding the +prosperity of her children, trembled at the fear of endangering either), +in vain endeavoured to dissuade my father from putting his favourite +scheme in practice. In the early part of his youth he had been +accustomed to a sea life, and, being born an American, his restless +spirit was ever busied in plans for the increase of wealth and honour to +his native country, whose fame and interest were then united to those of +Britain. After many dreams of success and many conflicts betwixt +prudence and ambition, he resolved on putting his scheme in practice; +the potent witchery possessed his brain, and all the persuasive powers +of reason shrunk before its magic. +</p> +<p> +Full of the important business, my misguided parent repaired to the +metropolis, and on his arrival laid the plan before the late Earl of +Hilsborough, Sir Hugh Palliser, the late Earl of Bristol, Lord Chatham +(father to the present Mr. William Pitt), the chancellor Lord +Northington, who was my godfather, and several other equally +distinguished personages; who all not only approved the plan, but +commended the laudable and public spirit which induced my father to +suggest it. The prospect appeared full of promise, and the Labrador +whale fishery was expected to be equally productive with that of +Greenland. My parent's commercial connections were of the highest +respectability, while his own name for worth and integrity gave a +powerful sanction to the eccentric undertaking. +</p> +<p> +In order to facilitate this plan, my father deemed it absolutely +necessary to reside at least two years in America. My mother, who felt +an invincible antipathy to the sea, heard his determination with grief +and horror. All the persuasive powers of affection failed to detain him; +all the pleadings of reason, prudence, a fond wife, and an infant +family, proved ineffectual. My father was determined on departing, and +my mother's unconquerable timidity prevented her being the companion of +his voyage. From this epocha I date the sorrows of my family. +</p> +<p> +He sailed for America. His eldest son, John, was previously placed in a +mercantile house at Leghorn. My younger brothers and myself remained +with my mother at Bristol. Two years was the limited time of his +absence, and, on his departure, the sorrow of my parents was reciprocal. +My mother's heart was almost bursting with anguish; but even death would +to her have been preferable to the horrors of crossing a tempestuous +ocean and quitting her children, my father having resolved on leaving my +brothers and myself in England for education. +</p> +<p> +Still the comforts, and even the luxuries of life distinguished our +habitation. The tenderness of my mother's affection made her lavish of +every elegance; and the darlings of her bosom were dressed, waited on, +watched, and indulged with a degree of fondness bordering on folly. My +clothes were sent for from London; my fancy was indulged to the extent +of its caprices; I was flattered and praised into a belief that I was a +being of superior order. To sing, to play a lesson on the harpsichord, +to recite an elegy, and to make doggerel verses, made the extent of my +occupations, while my person improved, and my mother's indulgence was +almost unexampled. +</p> +<p> +My father, several years before his departure for America, had removed +from the Minster House, and resided in one larger and more convenient +for his increased family. This habitation was elegantly arranged; all +the luxuries of plate, silk furniture, foreign wines, etc., evinced his +knowledge of what was worth enjoying, and displayed that warm +hospitality which is often the characteristic of a British merchant. +This disposition for the good things of the world influenced even the +disposal of his children's comforts. The bed in which I slept was of the +richest crimson damask; the dresses which we wore were of the finest +cambric; during the summer months we were sent to Clifton Hill for the +advantages of a purer air; and I never was permitted to board at school, +or to pass a night of separation from the fondest of mothers. +</p> +<p> +Many months elapsed, and my mother continued to receive the kindest +letters from that husband whose rash scheme filled her bosom with regret +and apprehension. At length the intervals became more frequent and +protracted. The professions of regard, no longer flowing from the heart, +assumed a laboured style, and seemed rather the efforts of honourable +feeling than the involuntary language of confidential affection. My +mother felt the change, and her affliction was infinite. +</p> +<p> +At length a total silence of several months awoke her mind to the +sorrows of neglect, the torture of compunction; she now lamented the +timidity which had divided her from a husband's bosom, the natural +fondness which had bound her to her children; for while her heart bled +with sorrow and palpitated with apprehension, the dreadful secret was +unfolded, and the cause of my father's silence was discovered to be a +new attachment—a mistress, whose resisting nerves could brave the +stormy ocean, and who had consented to remain two years with him in the +frozen wilds of America. +</p> +<p> +This intelligence nearly annihilated my mother, whose mind, though not +strongly organised, was tenderly susceptible. She resigned herself to +grief. I was then at an age to feel and to participate in her sorrows. I +often wept to see her weep; I tried all my little skill to soothe her, +but in vain; the first shock was followed by calamities of a different +nature. The scheme in which my father had embarked his fortune failed, +the Indians rose in a body, burnt his settlement, murdered many of his +people, and turned the produce of their toil adrift on the wide and +merciless ocean. The noble patrons of his plan deceived him in their +assurances of marine protection, and the island of promise presented a +scene of barbarous desolation. This misfortune was rapidly followed by +other commercial losses; and to complete the vexations which pressed +heavily on my mother, her rash husband gave a bill of sale of his whole +property, by the authority of which we were obliged to quit our home, +and to endure those accumulated vicissitudes for which there appeared +no remedy. +</p> +<p> +It was at this period of trial that my mother was enabled to prove, by +that unerring touchstone, adversity, who were her real and disinterested +friends. Many, with affected commiseration, dropped a tear—or rather +seemed to drop one—on the disappointments of our family; while others, +with a malignant triumph, condemned the expensive style in which my +father had reared his children, the studied elegance which had +characterised my mother's dress and habitation, and the hospitality, +which was now marked by the ungrateful epithet of prodigal luxuriance, +but which had evinced the open liberality of my father's heart. +</p> +<p> +At this period my brother William died. He was only six years of age, +but a promising and most lovely infant. His sudden death, in consequence +of the measles, nearly deprived my mother of her senses. She was deeply +affected; but she found, after a period of time, that consolation which, +springing from the bosom of an amiable friend, doubly solaced her +afflictions. This female was one of the most estimable of her sex; she +had been the widow of Sir Charles Erskine, and was then the wife of a +respectable medical man who resided at Bristol. +</p> +<p> +In the society of Lady Erskine my mother gradually recovered her +serenity of mind, or rather found it soften into a religious +resignation. But the event of her domestic loss by death was less +painful than that which she felt in the alienation of my father's +affections. She frequently heard that he resided in America with his +mistress, till, at the expiration of another year, she received a +summons to meet him in London. +</p> +<p> +Language would but feebly describe the varying emotions which struggled +in her bosom. At this interesting era she was preparing to encounter the +freezing scorn, or the contrite glances, of either an estranged or a +repentant husband; in either case her situation was replete with +anticipated chagrin, for she loved him too tenderly not to participate +even in the anguish of his compunction. His letter, which was coldly +civil, requested particularly that the children might be the companions +of her journey. We departed for the metropolis. +</p> +<p> +I was not then quite ten years old, though so tall and formed in my +person that I might have passed for twelve or thirteen. My brother +George was a few years younger. On our arrival in London we repaired to +my father's lodgings in Spring Gardens. He received us, after three +years' absence, with a mixture of pain and pleasure; he embraced us with +tears, and his voice was scarcely articulate. My mother's agitation was +indescribable; she received a cold embrace at their meeting—it was the +last she ever received from her alienated husband. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the first conflicts seemed to subside, my father informed my +mother that he was determined to place my brother and myself at a school +in the vicinity of London; that he purposed very shortly returning to +America, and that he would readily pay for my mother's board in any +private and respectable family. This information seemed like a +death-blow to their domestic hopes. A freezing, formal, premeditated +separation from a wife who was guiltless of any crime, who was as +innocent as an angel, seemed the very extent of decided misery. It was +in vain that my mother essayed to change his resolution, and influence +his heart in pronouncing a milder judgment: my father was held by a +fatal fascination; he was the slave of a young and artful woman, who had +availed herself of his American solitude, to undermine his affections +for his wife and the felicity of his family. +</p> +<p> +This deviation from domestic faith was the only dark shade that marked +my father's character. He possessed a soul brave, liberal, enlightened, +and ingenuous. He felt the impropriety of his conduct. Yet, though his +mind was strongly organised, though his understanding was capacious, and +his sense of honour delicate even to fastidiousness, he was still the +dupe of his passions, the victim of unfortunate attachment. +</p> +<p> +Within a few days of our arrival in London we were placed for education +in a school at Chelsea. The mistress of this seminary was perhaps one of +the most extraordinary women that ever graced, or disgraced, society; +her name was Meribah Lorrington. She was the most extensively +accomplished female that I ever remember to have met with; her mental +powers were no less capable of cultivation than superiorly cultivated. +Her father, whose name was Hull, had from her infancy been the master of +an academy at Earl's Court, near Fulham; and early after his marriage +losing his wife, he resolved on giving his daughter a masculine +education. Meribah was early instructed in all the modern +accomplishments, as well as in classical knowledge. She was mistress of +the Latin, French, and Italian languages; she was said to be a perfect +arithmetician and astronomer, and possessed the art of painting on silk +to a degree of exquisite perfection. But, alas! with all these +advantages, she was addicted to one vice, which at times so completely +absorbed her faculties as to deprive her of every power, either mental +or corporeal. Thus, daily and hourly, her superior acquirements, her +enlightened understanding, yielded to the intemperance of her ruling +infatuation, and every power of reflection seemed lost in the unfeminine +propensity. +</p> +<p> +All that I ever learned I acquired from this extraordinary woman. In +those hours when her senses were not intoxicated, she would delight in +the task of instructing me. She had only five or six pupils, and it was +my lot to be her particular favourite. She always, out of school, called +me her little friend, and made no scruple of conversing with me +(sometimes half the night, for I slept in her chamber), on domestic and +confidential affairs. I felt for her a very sincere affection, and I +listened with peculiar attention to all the lessons she inculcated. Once +I recollect her mentioning the particular failing which disgraced so +intelligent a being. She pleaded, in excuse of it, the immitigable +regret of a widowed heart, and with compunction declared that she flew +to intoxication as the only refuge from the pang of prevailing sorrow. I +continued more than twelve months under the care of Mrs. Lorrington, +during which period my mother boarded in a clergyman's family at +Chelsea. I applied rigidly to study, and acquired a taste for books, +which has never, from that time, deserted me. Mrs. Lorrington frequently +read to me after school hours, and I to her. I sometimes indulged my +fancy in writing verses, or composing rebuses, and my governess never +failed to applaud the juvenile compositions I presented to her. Some of +them, which I preserved and printed in a small volume shortly after my +marriage, were written when I was between twelve and thirteen years of +age; but as love was the theme of my poetical fantasies, I never showed +them to my mother till I was about to publish them. +</p> +<p> +It was my custom, every Sunday evening, to drink tea with my mother. +During one of those visits a captain in the British navy, a friend of my +father's, became so partial to my person and manners that a proposal of +marriage shortly after followed. My mother was astonished when she heard +it, and, as soon as she recovered from her surprise, inquired of my +suitor how old he thought me; his reply was, "About sixteen." My mother +smiled, and informed him that I was then not quite thirteen. He appeared +to be skeptical on the subject, till he was again assured of the fact, +when he took his leave with evident chagrin, but not without expressing +his hopes that, on his return to England,—for he was going on a two +years' expedition,—I should be still disengaged. His ship foundered at +sea a few months after, and this amiable gallant officer perished. +</p> +<p> +I had remained a year and two months with Mrs. Lorrington, when +pecuniary derangements obliged her to give up her school. Her father's +manners were singularly disgusting, as was his appearance; for he wore a +silvery beard which reached to his breast; and a kind of Persian robe +which gave him the external appearance of a necromancer. He was of the +Anabaptist persuasion, and so stern in his conversation that the young +pupils were exposed to perpetual terror. Added to these circumstances, +the failing of his daughter became so evident, that even during school +hours she was frequently in a state of confirmed intoxication. These +events conspired to break up the establishment, and I was shortly after +removed to a boarding-school at Battersea. +</p> +<p> +The mistress of this seminary, Mrs. Leigh, was a lively, sensible, and +accomplished woman; her daughter was only a few years older than myself, +and extremely amiable as well as lovely. Here I might have been happy, +but my father's remissness in sending pecuniary supplies, and my +mother's dread of pecuniary inconvenience, induced her to remove me; my +brother, nevertheless, still remained under the care of the Reverend Mr. +Gore, at Chelsea. +</p> +<p> +Several months elapsed, and no remittance arrived from my father. I was +now near fourteen years old, and my mother began to foresee the +vicissitudes to which my youth might be exposed, unprotected, tenderly +educated, and without the advantages of fortune. My father's +impracticable scheme had impoverished his fortune, and deprived his +children of that affluence which, in their in fancy, they had been +taught to hope for. I cannot speak of my own person, but my partial +friends were too apt to flatter me. I was naturally of a pensive and +melancholy character; my reflections on the changes of fortune +frequently gave me an air of dejection which perhaps etched an interest +beyond what might have been awakened by the vivacity or bloom of +juvenility. +</p> +<p> +I adored my mother. She was the mildest, the most unoffending of +existing mortals; her temper was cheerful, as her heart was innocent; +she beheld her children as it seemed fatherless, and she resolved, by +honourable means, to support them. For this purpose a convenient house +was hired at Little Chelsea, and furnished, for a ladies' +boarding-school. Assistants of every kind were engaged, and I was deemed +worthy of an occupation that flattered my self-love and impressed my +mind with a sort of domestic consequence. The English language was my +department in the seminary, and I was permitted to select passages both +in prose and verse for the studies of my infant pupils. It was also my +occupation to superintend their wardrobes, to see them dressed and +undressed by the servants or half-boarders, and to read sacred and moral +lessons on saints' days and Sunday evenings. +</p> +<p> +Shortly after my mother had established herself at Chelsea, on a +summer's evening, as I was sitting at the window, I heard a deep sigh, +or rather a groan of anguish, which suddenly attracted my attention. The +night was approaching rapidly, and I looked toward the gate before the +house, where I observed a woman evidently labouring under excessive +affliction; I instantly descended and approached her. She, bursting into +tears, asked whether I did not know her. Her dress was torn and filthy; +she was almost naked; and an old bonnet, which nearly hid her face, so +completely disfigured her features that I had not the smallest idea of +the person who was then almost sinking before me. I gave her a small sum +of money, and inquired the cause of her apparent agony. She took my hand +and pressed it to her lips. "Sweet girl," said she, "you are still the +angel I ever knew you!" I was astonished. She raised her bonnet—her +fine dark eyes met mine. It was Mrs. Lorrington. I led her into the +house; my mother was not at home. I took her to my chamber, and, with +the assistance of a lady who was our French teacher, I clothed and +comforted her. She refused to say how she came to be in so deplorable a +situation, and took her leave. It was in vain that I entreated, that I +conjured her to let me know where I might send to her. She refused to +give me her address, but promised that in a few days she would call on +me again. It is impossible to describe the wretched appearance of this +accomplished woman! The failing to which she had now yielded, as to a +monster that would destroy her, was evident even at the moment when she +was speaking to me. I saw no more of her; but to my infinite regret, I +was informed some years after that she had died, the martyr of a +premature decay, brought on by the indulgence of her propensity to +intoxication, in the workhouse of Chelsea! +</p> +<p> +The number of my mother's pupils in a few months amounted to ten or +twelve, and just at a period when an honourable independence promised to +cheer the days of an unexampled parent, my father unexpectedly returned +from America. The pride of his soul was deeply wounded by the step which +my mother had taken; he was offended even beyond the bounds of reason: +he considered his name as disgraced, his conjugal reputation tarnished, +by the public mode which his wife had adopted of revealing to the world +her unprotected situation. A prouder heart never palpitated in the +breast of man than that of my father: tenacious of fame, ardent in the +pursuit of visionary schemes, he could not endure the exposure of his +altered fortune; while Hope still beguiled him with her flattering +promise that time would favour his projects, and fortune, at some future +period, reward him with success. +</p> +<p> +At the expiration of eight months my mother, by my father's positive +command, broke up her establishment and returned to London. She engaged +lodgings in the neighbourhood of Marylebone. My father then resided in +Green Street, Grosvenor Square. His provision for his family was scanty, +his visits few. He had a new scheme on foot respecting the Labrador +coast, the particulars of which I do not remember, and all his zeal, +united with all his interest, was employed in promoting its +accomplishment. My mother, knowing that my father publicly resided with +his mistress, did not even hope for his returning affection. She devoted +herself to her children, and endured her sorrows with the patience of +conscious rectitude. +</p> +<p> +At this period my father frequently called upon us, and often attended +me while we walked in the fields near Marylebone. His conversation was +generally of a domestic nature, and he always lamented that fatal +attachment, which was now too strongly cemented by time and obligations +ever to be dissolved without an ample provision for Elenor, which was +the name of my father's mistress. In one of our morning walks we called +upon the Earl of Northington, my father having some commercial business +to communicate to his lordship. Lord Northington then resided in +Berkeley Square, two doors from Hill Street, in the house which is now +occupied by Lord Robert Spencer. We were received with the most marked +attention and politeness (I was presented as the goddaughter of the late +Chancellor Lord Northington), and my father was requested to dine with +his lordship a few days after. From this period I frequently saw Lord +Northington, and always experienced from him the most flattering and +gratifying civility. I was then a child, not more than fourteen years +of age. +</p> +<p> +The finishing points of my education I received at Oxford House, +Marylebone. I was at this period within a few months of fifteen years of +age, tall, and nearly such as my partial friends, the few whose +affection has followed me from childhood, remember me. My early love for +lyric harmony had led me to a fondness for the more sublime scenes of +dramatic poetry. I embraced every leisure moment to write verses; I even +fancied that I could compose a tragedy, and more than once +unsuccessfully attempted the arduous undertaking. +</p> +<p> +The dancing-master at Oxford House, Mr. Hussey, was then ballet-master +at Covent Garden Theatre. Mrs. Hervey, the governess, mentioned me to +him as possessing an extraordinary genius for dramatic exhibitions. My +figure was commanding for my age, and (my father's pecuniary +embarrassments augmenting by the failure of another American project) my +mother was consulted as to the propriety of my making the stage my +profession. Many cited examples of females who, even in that perilous +and arduous situation, preserved an unspotted fame, inclined her to +listen to the suggestion, and to allow of my consulting some master of +the art as to my capability of becoming an ornament to the theatre. +</p> +<p> +Previous to this idea my father had again quitted England. He left his +wife with assurances of good-will, his children with all the agonies of +parental regret. When he took leave of my mother, his emphatic words +were these,—I never shall forget them—"Take care that no dishonour +falls upon my daughter. If she is not safe at my return, I will +annihilate you!" My mother heard the stern injunction, and trembled +while he repeated it. +</p> +<p> +I was, in consequence of my wish to appear on the stage, introduced to +Mr. Hull,[<a href="#note-6">6</a>] of Covent Garden Theatre; he then resided in King Street, +Soho. He heard me recite some passages of the character of Jane Shore, +and seemed delighted with my attempt. I was shortly after presented by a +friend of my mother's, to Mr. Garrick;[<a href="#note-7">7</a>] Mr. Murphy,[<a href="#note-8">8</a>] the celebrated +dramatic poet, was one of the party, and we passed the evening at the +house of the British Roscius in the Adelphi. This was during the last +year that he dignified the profession by his public appearance. Mr. +Garrick's encomiums were of the most gratifying kind. He determined that +he would appear in the same play with me on the first night's trial; but +what part to choose for my début was a difficult question. I was too +young for anything beyond the girlish character, and the dignity of +tragedy afforded but few opportunities for the display of such juvenile +talents. After some hesitation my tutor fixed on the part of Cordelia. +His own Lear can never be forgotten. +</p> +<p> +It was not till the period when everything was arranged for my +appearance that the last solemn injunction, so emphatically uttered by +my father, nearly palsied my mother's resolution. She dreaded the +perils, the temptations to which an unprotected girl would be exposed in +so public a situation; while my ardent fancy was busied in contemplating +a thousand triumphs in which my vanity would be publicly gratified +without the smallest sacrifice of my private character. +</p> +<p> +While this plan was in agitation, I was one evening at Drury Lane +Theatre with my mother and a small party of her friends, when an officer +entered the box. His eyes were fixed on me, and his persevering +attention at length nearly overwhelmed me with confusion. The +entertainment being finished, we departed. The stranger followed us. At +that period my mother resided in Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane, +for the protection which a venerable and respectable friend offered at a +moment when it was so necessary. This friend was the late Samuel Cox, +Esq., the intimate friend of Mr. Garrick, and an honour to those laws of +which he was a distinguished professor. +</p> +<p> +It was Mr. Garrick's particular request that I would frequent the +theatre as much as possible till the period fixed on for my appearance +on the stage. I had now just completed my fifteenth year, and my little +heart throbbed with impatience for the hour of trial. My tutor was most +sanguine in his expectations of my success, and every rehearsal seemed +to strengthen his flattering opinion. +</p> +<p> +It happened that, several evenings following, the stranger officer, +whose name, for motives of delicacy toward his family, I forbear to +mention, followed me to and from the theatre. It was in vain that he +offered his attentions in the box; my mother's frown and assiduous care +repulsed them effectually. But the perseverance of a bad mind in the +accomplishment of a bad action is not to be subdued. A letter was +written and conveyed to me through the hands of a female servant; I +opened it; I read a declaration of the most ardent love. The writer +avowed himself the son of Lady——, and offered marriage; he was +graceful and handsome. I instantly delivered the letter to my mother, +and, shortly after, he was, by an acquaintance, presented with +decorous ceremony. +</p> +<p> +The idea of my appearing on the stage seemed to distract this +accomplished suitor. My mother, who but half approved a dramatic life, +was more than half inclined to favour the addresses of Captain ——. The +injunction of my father every hour became more indelibly impressed on +her memory; she knew his stern and invincible sense of honour too well +to hazard the thought of awakening it to vengeance. +</p> +<p> +After a short period, the friend who had presented Captain——, alarmed +for my safety, and actuated by a liberal wish to defend me from the +artifice of his associate, waited on my mother, and, after some +hesitation, informed her that my lover was already married; that he had +a young and amiable wife in a sister kingdom, and that he apprehended +some diabolical stratagem for the enthralment of my honour. My mother's +consternation was infinite. The important secret was communicated to me, +and I felt little regret in the loss of a husband when I reflected that +a matrimonial alliance would have compelled me to relinquish my +theatrical profession. +</p> +<p> +I had, also, at this period, another professed admirer, a man of +splendid fortune, but nearly old enough to be my grandfather. This suit +I never would listen to; and the drama, the delightful drama, seemed the +very criterion of all human happiness. +</p> +<p> +I now found myself an object of attention whenever I appeared at the +theatre. I had been too often in public not to be observed, and it was +buzzed about that I was the juvenile pupil of Garrick,—the promised +Cordelia. My person improved daily; yet a sort of dignified air, which +from a child I had acquired, effectually shielded me from the attacks of +impertinence or curiosity. Garrick was delighted with everything I did. +He would sometimes dance a minuet with me, sometimes request me to sing +the favourite ballads of the day; but the circumstance which most +pleased him was my tone of voice, which he frequently told me closely +resembled that of his favourite Cibber.[<a href="#note-9">9</a>] +</p> +<p> +Never shall I forget the enchanting hours which I passed in Mr. +Garrick's society; he appeared to me as one who possessed more power, +both to awe and to attract, than any man I ever met with. His smile was +fascinating, but he had at times a restless peevishness of tone which +excessively affected his hearers; at least it affected me so that I +never shall forget it. +</p> +<p> +Opposite to the house in which I resided lived John Vernon, Esq., an +eminent solicitor. I observed a young inmate of his habitation +frequently watching me with more than ordinary attention. He was +handsome in person, and his countenance was overcast by a sort of +languor, the effect of sickness, which rendered it peculiarly +interesting. Frequently, when I approached the window of our +drawing-room, this young observer would bow or turn away with evident +emotion. I related the circumstance to my mother, and from that time the +lower shutters of our windows were perpetually closed. The young lawyer +often excited my mirth, and my mother's indignation; and the injunction +of my father was frequently repeated by her, with the addition of her +wish, that I was "once well married." +</p> +<p> +Every attention which was now paid to me augmented my dear mother's +apprehensions. She fancied every man a seducer, and every hour an hour +of accumulating peril! I know what she was doomed to feel, for that +Being who formed my sensitive and perpetually aching heart knows that I +have since felt it. +</p> +<p> +Among other friends who were in the habit of visiting my mother there +was one, a Mr. Wayman, an attorney of whom she entertained the highest +opinion. He was distinguished by the patronage of Mr. Cox, and his +reputation required no other voucher. One evening a party of six was +proposed for the following Sunday; with much persuasion my mother +consented to go, and to allow that I should also attend her. Greenwich +was the place fixed on for the dinner, and we prepared for the day of +recreation. It was then the fashion to wear silks. I remember that I +wore a nightgown of pale blue lustring, with a chip hat trimmed with +ribands of the same colour. Never was I dressed so perfectly to my own +satisfaction; I anticipated a day of admiration. Heaven can bear witness +that to me it was a day of fatal victory! +</p> +<p> +On our stopping at the "Star and Garter," at Greenwich, the person who +came to hand me from the carriage was our opposite neighbour in +Southampton Buildings. I was confused, but my mother was indignant. Mr. +Wayman presented his young friend,—that friend who was ordained to be +my husband! +</p> +<p> +Our party dined, and early in the evening we returned to London. Mr. +Robinson remained at Greenwich for the benefit of the air, being +recently recovered from a fit of sickness. During the remainder of the +evening Mr. Wayman expatiated on the many good qualities of his friend +Mr. Robinson: spoke of his future expectations a rich old uncle; of his +probable advancement in his profession; and, more than all, of his +enthusiastic admiration of me. +</p> +<p> +A few days after, Mr. Robinson paid my mother a visit. We had now +removed to Villars Street, York Buildings. My mother's fondness for +books of a moral and religious character was not lost upon my new lover, +and elegantly bound editions of Hervey's "Meditations," with some others +of a similar description, were presented as small tokens of admiration +and respect. My mother was beguiled by these little interesting +attentions, and soon began to feel a strong predilection in favour of +Mr. Robinson. +</p> +<p> +Every day some new mark of respect augmented my mother's favourable +opinion; till Mr. Robinson became so great a favourite that he seemed to +her the most perfect of existing beings. Just at this period my brother +George sickened for the smallpox; my mother idolised him; he was +dangerously ill. Mr. Robinson was indefatigable in his attentions, and +my appearance on the stage was postponed till the period of his perfect +recovery. Day and night Mr. Robinson devoted himself to the task of +consoling my mother, and of attending to her darling boy; hourly, and +indeed momentarily, Mr. Robinson's praises were reiterated with +enthusiasm by my mother. He was "the kindest, the best of mortals!" the +least addicted to worldly follies, and the man, of all others, whom she +should adore as a son-in-law. +</p> +<p> +My brother recovered at the period when I sickened from the infection of +his disease. I felt little terror at the approaches of a dangerous and +deforming malady; for, I know not why, but personal beauty has never +been to me an object of material solicitude. It was now that Mr. +Robinson exerted all his assiduity to win my affections; it was when a +destructive disorder menaced my features and the few graces that nature +had lent them, that he professed a disinterested fondness; every day he +attended with the zeal of a brother, and that zeal made an impression of +gratitude upon my heart, which was the source of all my +succeeding sorrows. +</p> +<p> +During my illness Mr. Robinson so powerfully wrought upon the feelings +of my mother, that she prevailed on me to promise, in case I should +recover, to give him my hand in marriage. The words of my father were +frequently repeated, not without some innuendoes that I refused my ready +consent to a union with Mr. Robinson from a blind partiality to the +libertine Captain——. Repeatedly urged and hourly reminded of my +father's vow, I at last consented, and the banns were published while I +was yet lying on a bed of sickness. I was then only a few months +advanced in my sixteenth year. +</p> +<p> +My mother, whose affection for me was boundless, notwithstanding her +hopes of my forming an alliance that would be productive of felicity, +still felt the most severe pain at the thought of our approaching +separation. She was estranged from her husband's affections; she had +treasured up all her fondest hopes in the society of an only daughter; +she knew that no earthly pleasure can compensate for the loss of that +sweet sympathy which is the bond of union betwixt child and parent. Her +regrets were infinite as they were evident, and Mr. Robinson, in order +to remove any obstacle which this consideration might throw in the way +of our marriage, voluntarily proposed that she should reside with us. He +represented me as too young and inexperienced to superintend domestic +concerns; and while he flattered my mother's <i>armour propre</i>, he rather +requested her aid as a sacrifice to his interest than as an obligation +conferred on her. +</p> +<p> +The banns were published three successive Sundays at St. Martin's +Church, and the day was fixed for our marriage,—the twelfth of April. +It was not till all preliminaries were adjusted that Mr. Robinson, with +much apparent agitation, suggested the necessity of keeping our union a +secret. I was astonished at the proposal; but two reasons were given for +his having made it, both of which seemed plausible; the first was, that +Mr. Robinson had still three months to serve before his articles to +Messrs. Vernon and Elderton expired; and the second was, the hope which +a young lady entertained of forming a matrimonial union with Mr. +Robinson as soon as that period should arrive. The latter reason alarmed +me, but I was most solemnly assured that all the affection was cherished +on the lady's part; that Mr. Robinson was particularly averse to the +idea of such a marriage, and that as soon as he should become of age his +independence would place him beyond the control of any person +whatsoever. +</p> +<p> +I now proposed deferring our wedding-day till that period. I pleaded +that I thought myself too young to encounter the cares and important +duties of domestic life; I shrunk from the idea of everything +clandestine, and anticipated a thousand ill consequences that might +attend on a concealed marriage. My scruples only seemed to increase Mr. +Robinson's impatience for that ceremony which should make me his for +ever. He represented to my mother the disapprobation which my father +would not fail to evince at my adopting a theatrical life in preference +to engaging in an honourable and prosperous connection. He so powerfully +worked upon the credulity of my beloved parent that she became a decided +convert to his opinions. My youth, my person, he represented as the +destined snares for my honour on a public stage, where all the +attractions of the mimic scene would combine to render me a fascinating +object. He also persuaded her that my health would suffer by the +fatigues and exertions of the profession, and that probably I might be +induced to marry some man who would not approve of a mother's forming a +part in our domestic establishment. +</p> +<p> +These circumstances were repeatedly urged in favour of the union. Still +I felt an almost instinctive repugnance at the thought of a clandestine +marriage. My mother, whose parental fondness was ever watchful for my +safety, now imagined that my objections proceeded from a fixed +partiality toward the libertine Captain——, who, though he had not the +temerity to present himself before my mother, persisted in writing to +me, and in following me whenever I appeared in public. I never spoke to +him after the story of his marriage was repeated to my mother; I never +corresponded with him, but felt a decided and proud indignation whenever +his name was mentioned in my presence. +</p> +<p> +My appearance on the stage had been put off from time to time, till Mr. +Garrick became impatient, and desired my mother to allow of his fixing +the night of important trial. It was now that Mr. Robinson and my mother +united in persuading me to relinquish my project; and so perpetually, +during three days, was I tormented on the subject, so ridiculed for +having permitted the banns to be published, and afterward hesitating to +fulfil my contract, that I consented—and was married. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the day of my wedding was fixed, it was deemed necessary that +a total revolution should take place in my external appearance. I had +till that period worn the habit of a child, and the dress of a woman, so +suddenly assumed, sat rather awkwardly upon me. Still, so juvenile was +my appearance, that, even two years after my union with Mr. Robinson, I +was always accosted with the appellation of "Miss" whenever I entered a +shop or was in company with strangers. My manners were no less childish +than my appearance; only three months before I became a wife I had +dressed a doll, and such was my dislike to the idea of a matrimonial +alliance that the only circumstance which induced me to marry was that +of being still permitted to reside with my mother, and to live +separated, at least for some time, from my husband. +</p> +<p> +My heart, even when I knelt at the altar, was as free from any tender +impression as it had been at the moment of my birth. I knew not the +sensation of any sentiment beyond that of esteem; love was still a +stranger to my bosom. I had never, then, seen the being who was destined +to inspire a thought which might influence my fancy or excite an +interest in my mind, and I well remember that, even while I was +pronouncing the marriage vow, my fancy involuntarily wandered to that +scene where I had hoped to support myself with <i>éclat</i> and reputation. +</p> +<p> +The ceremony was performed by Doctor Saunders, the venerable vicar of +St. Martin's, who, at the conclusion of the ceremony, declared that he +had never before performed the office for so young a bride. The clerk +officiated as father; my mother and the woman who opened the pews were +the only witnesses to the union. I was dressed in the habit of a +Quaker,—a society to which, in early youth, I was particularly partial. +From the church we repaired to the house of a female friend, where a +splendid breakfast was waiting; I changed my dress to one of white +muslin, a chip hat adorned with white ribbons, a white sarsnet +scarf-cloak, and slippers of white satin embroidered with silver. I +mention these trifling circumstances because they lead to some others of +more importance. +</p> +<p> +From the house of my mother's friend we set out for the inn at +Maidenhead Bridge, Mr. Robinson and myself in a phaeton, my mother in a +post-chaise; we were also accompanied by a gentleman by the name of +Balack, a very intimate acquaintance and schoolfellow of my husband, who +was not apprised of our wedding, but who nevertheless considered Mr. +Robinson as my avowed suitor. +</p> +<p> +On his first seeing me, he remarked that I was "dressed like a bride." +The observation overwhelmed me with confusion. During the day I was more +than pensive,—I was melancholy; I considered all that had passed as a +vision, and would scarcely persuade myself that the union which I had +permitted to be solemnised was indissoluble. My mother frequently +remarked my evident chagrin; and in the evening, while we strolled +together in the garden which was opposite the inn, I told her, with a +torrent of tears, the vouchers of my sincerity, that I was the most +wretched of mortals! that I felt the most perfect esteem for Mr. +Robinson, but that, according to my ideas of domestic happiness, there +should be a warm and powerful union of soul, to which I was yet totally +a stranger. +</p> +<p> +During my absence from town, a letter was written to Mr. Garrick, +informing him that an advantageous marriage (for my mother considered +Mr. Robinson as the legal heir to a handsome fortune, together with an +estate in South Wales) had induced me to relinquish my theatrical +prospects; and a few weeks after, meeting Mr. Garrick in the street, he +congratulated me on my union, and expressed the warmest wishes for my +future happiness. +</p> +<p> +The day after our marriage, Mr. Robinson proposed dining at +Henley-upon-Thames. My mother would not venture in the phaeton, and Mr. +Balack occupied the place which was declined by her. On taking his seat +between Robinson and myself, he remarked, "Were you married, I should +think of the holy anathema,—Cursed is he that parteth man and wife." My +countenance was suddenly suffused with the deepest scarlet; I cautiously +concealed the effect which his remarks had produced, and we proceeded on +our journey. +</p> +<p> +Descending a steep hill, betwixt Maidenhead Thicket and Henley, we met a +drove of oxen. The comic opera of the "Padlock" was then in high +celebrity, and our facetious little friend a second time disconcerted me +by saying, in the words of Don Diego, "I don't like oxen, I wish they +had been a flock of sheep!" I now began to discover the variety of +unpleasant sensations which, even undesignedly, must arise from +conversation, in the presence of those who were clandestinely married. I +also trembled with apprehension, lest anything disgraceful should attach +itself to my fame, by being seen under doubtful circumstances in the +society of Mr. Robinson. +</p> +<p> +On our return to London, after ten days' absence, a house was hired in +Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. It was a large, old-fashioned +mansion, and stood on the spot where the Freemasons' Tavern has been +since erected. This house was the property of a lady, an acquaintance of +my mother, the widow of Mr. Worlidge, an artist of considerable +celebrity. It was handsomely furnished, and contained many valuable +pictures by various masters. I resided with my mother; Mr. Robinson +continued at the house of Messrs. Vernon and Elderton, in Southampton +Buildings. +</p> +<p> +The stated time of concealment elapsed, and still my husband was +perpetually at chambers in Lincoln's Inn. Still he was evidently under +the control of his articles, and still desirous that our marriage should +be kept a secret. My mother began to feel a considerable degree of +inquietude upon the subject; particularly as she was informed that Mr. +Robinson was not exactly in that state of expectation which he had +represented. She found that he was already of age, and that he had still +some months to serve of his clerkship. She also heard that he was not +the nephew and heir, but the illegitimate son of the man from whom he +expected a handsome fortune; though he had an elder brother, now +Commodore William Robinson, who was then in India, reaping the fruits of +industry under the patronage of Lord Clive. +</p> +<p> +It was now for the first time that my mother repented the influence she +had used in promoting our union. She informed Mr. Robinson that she +apprehended some gross deception on his part, and that she would no +longer consent to our marriage being kept a secret. The reputation of a +darling child, she alleged, was at stake; and though during a few weeks +the world might have been kept in ignorance of my marriage, some +circumstances that had transpired, now rendered an immediate disclosure +absolutely necessary. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson, finding my mother inexorable, resolved on setting out for +Wales, in order to avow our marriage, and to present me to his "uncle," +for such he still obstinately denominated his father. My mother wished +to avail herself of this opportunity to visit her friends at Bristol, +and accordingly we set out on the journey. We passed through Oxford; +visited the different colleges; proceeded to Blenheim, and made the tour +a tour of pleasure, with the hope of soothing my mother's resentment, +and exhilarating my spirits, which were now perpetually dejected. I +cannot help mentioning that, shortly after my marriage, I formed an +acquaintance with a young lady, whose mind was no less romantic than my +own, and while Mr. Robinson was occupied at chambers, we almost daily +passed our morning hours in Westminster Abbey. It was to me a soothing +and a gratifying scene of meditation. I have often remained in the +gloomy chapels of that sublime fabric till I became, as it were, an +inhabitant of another world. The dim light of the Gothic windows, the +vibration of my footsteps along the lofty aisles, the train of +reflections that the scene inspired, were all suited to the temper of my +soul; and the melancholy propensities of my earliest infancy seemed to +revive with an instinctive energy, which rendered them the leading +characteristics of my existence. Indeed, the world has mistaken the +character of my mind; I have ever been the reverse of volatile and +dissipated. I mean not to write my own eulogy, though with the candid +and sensitive mind I shall, I trust, succeed in my vindication. +</p> +<p> +On our arrival at Bristol, Mr. Robinson thought it most advisable to +proceed toward Tregunter, the seat of his "uncle," alone, in order to +prepare him for my cordial reception, or to avoid the mortification I +should experience, should he refuse to sanction our union. Mr. Robinson +left me a few guineas, and promised that his absence should be short, +and his affection increasing. +</p> +<p> +I had now been married near four months; and, though love was not the +basis of my fidelity, honour, and a refined sense of feminine rectitude, +attached me to the interest as well as to the person of my husband. I +considered chastity as the brightest ornament that could embellish the +female mind, and I regulated my conduct to that tenor which has +principle more than affection to strengthen its progress. +</p> +<p> +At Bristol my mother experienced the most gratifying reception; all her +former friends rejoiced to see her; I was invited daily to feasts of +hospitality, and I found that fortune was to common minds a never +failing passport. Mr. Robinson was represented as a young man of +considerable expectations, and his wife was consequently again received +as the daughter of Mr. Darby. The house in which I first opened my eyes +to this world of sorrow, the minster, its green, the schoolhouse where I +had passed many days, the tomb of my lost relatives in the church of St. +Augustine, were all visited by me with a sweet and melancholy interest. +But the cathedral, the brass eagle in the middle aisle, under which, +when an infant, I used to sit and join in the loud anthem, or chant the +morning service, most sensibly attached me. I longed again to occupy my +place beneath its expanding wings, and once I went before the service +began to gratify my inclination. +</p> +<p> +Language cannot describe the sort of sensation which I felt when I heard +the well-known, long-remembered organ flinging its loud peal through the +Gothic structure. I hastened to the cloisters. The nursery windows were +dim and shattered; the house was sinking to decay. The mouldering walk +was gloomy, and my spirits were depressed beyond description: I stood +alone, rapt in meditation, "Here," said I, "did my infant feet pace to +and fro; here did I climb the long stone bench, and swiftly measure it +at the peril of my safety. On those dark and winding steps did I sit and +listen to the full-toned organ, the loud anthem, the bell which called +the parishioners to prayer." I entered the cathedral once more; I read +and re-read the monumental inscriptions; I paused upon the grave of +Powell; I dropped a tear on the small square ground tablet which bore +the name of Evelyn. Ah! how little has the misjudging world known of +what has passed in my mind, even in the apparently gayest moments of my +existence! How much have I regretted that ever I was born, even when I +have been surrounded with all that could gratify the vanity of woman! +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson, on his arrival at Tregunter, despatched a letter informing +me that his "uncle" seemed disposed to act handsomely, but that he had +only ventured to avow an intention to marry, fearful of abruptly +declaring that he had been already some months a husband. Mr. Harris, +for that was the name of my father-in-law, replied that "he hoped the +object of his choice was not too young!" At this question Mr. Robinson +was somewhat disconcerted. "A young wife," continued Mr. Harris, "cannot +mend a man's fortune. How old is the girl you have chosen?" +</p> +<p> +"She is nearly seventeen!" +</p> +<p> +I was then only fifteen and a few months.[<a href="#note-10">10</a>] +</p> +<p> +"I hope she is not handsome," was the second observation. "You say she +is not rich; and beauty without money is but a dangerous sort +of portion." +</p> +<p> +"Will you see her?" +</p> +<p> +"I have no objection," said Mr. Harris. +</p> +<p> +"She is now with her mother at Bristol,—for," continued Mr. Robinson, +with some hesitation, "she is my wife." +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris paused, and then replied, "Well! stay with me only a few +days, and then you shall fetch her. If the thing is done, it cannot be +undone. She is a gentlewoman, you say, and I can have no reason to +refuse seeing her." +</p> +<p> +The same letter which contained this intelligence also requested me to +prepare for my journey, and desired me to write to a person whom Mr. +Robinson named in London, and whom I had seen in his company, for a sum +of money which would be necessary for our journey. This person was Mr. +John King, then a money-broker in Goodman's Fields; but I was an entire +stranger to the transaction which rendered him the temporary source of +my husband's finances. +</p> +<p> +One or two letters passed on this subject, and I waited anxiously for my +presentation at Tregunter. At length the period of Mr. Robinson's return +arrived, and we set out together, while my mother remained with her +friends at Bristol. Crossing the old passage to Chepstow in an open +boat, a distance, though not extended, extremely perilous, we found the +tide so strong and the night so boisterous that we were apprehensive of +much danger. The rain poured and the wind blew tempestuously. The boat +was full of passengers, and at one end of it were placed a drove of +oxen. My terror was infinite; I considered this storm as an ill omen, +but little thought that at future periods of my life I should have cause +to regret that I had not perished! +</p> +<p> +During our journey Robinson entreated me to overlook anything harsh that +might appear in the manners of his "uncle,"—for he still denied that +Mr. Harris was his father. But above all things he conjured me to +conceal my real age, and to say that I was some years older than he knew +me to be. To this proposal I readily consented, and I felt myself firm +in courage at the moment when we came within sight of Tregunter. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris was then building the family mansion, and resided in a pretty +little decorated cottage which was afterward converted into domestic +offices. We passed through a thick wood, the mountains at every break +meeting our eyes, covered with thin clouds, and rising in a sublime +altitude above the valley. A more romantic space of scenery never met +the human eye! I felt my mind inspired with a pensive melancholy, and +was only awakened from my reverie by the postboy stopping at the mansion +of Tregunter. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris came out to receive me. I wore a dark claret-coloured +riding-habit, with a white beaver hat and feathers. He embraced me with +excessive cordiality, while Miss Robinson, my husband's sister, with +cold formality led me into the house. I never shall forget her looks or +her manner. Had her brother presented the most abject being to her, she +could not have taken my hand with a more frigid demeanour. Miss +Robinson, though not more than twenty years of age, was Gothic in her +appearance and stiff in her deportment; she was of low stature and +clumsy, with a countenance peculiarly formed for the expression of +sarcastic vulgarity—a short snub nose, turned up at the point, a head +thrown back with an air of <i>hauteur</i>; a gaudy-coloured chintz gown, a +thrice-bordered cap, with a profusion of ribbons, and a countenance +somewhat more ruddy than was consistent with even pure health, presented +the personage whom I was to know as my future companion and kinswoman! +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris looked like a venerable Hawthorn; a brown fustian coat, a +scarlet waistcoat edged with narrow gold, a pair of woollen +spatter-dashes, and a gold-laced hat, formed the dress he generally +wore. He always rode a small Welsh pony, and was seldom in the house, +except at eating-time, from sunrise to the close of the evening. +</p> +<p> +There was yet another personage in the domestic establishment, who was +by Mr. Harris regarded as of no small importance: this was a venerable +housekeeper of the name of Mary Edwards. Mrs. Molly was the female +Mentor of the family; she dined at the table with Mr. Harris; she was +the governess of the domestic department; and a more overbearing, +vindictive spirit never inhabited the heart of mortal than that which +pervaded the soul of the ill-natured Mrs. Molly. +</p> +<p> +It may easily be conjectured that my time passed heavily in this +uninteresting circle. I was condemned either to drink ale with "the +squire," for Mr. Harris was only spoken of by that title, or to visit +the Methodistical seminary which Lady Huntingdon had established at +Trevecca, another mansion house on the estate of Mr. Harris. Miss +Robinson was of this sect; and though Mr. Harris was not a disciple of +the Huntingdonian school, he was a constant church visitor on every +Sunday. His zeal was indefatigable; and he would frequently fine the +rustics (for he was a justice of the peace, and had been sheriff of the +county) when he heard them swear, though every third sentence he uttered +was attended by an oath that made his hearers shudder. +</p> +<p> +I soon became a considerable favourite of "the squire," but I did not +find any yielding qualities about the hearts of Miss Betsy or Mrs. +Molly. They observed me with jealous eyes; they considered me as an +interloper, whose manners attracted Mr. Harris's esteem, and who was +likely to diminish their divided influence in the family. I found them +daily growing weary of my society; I perceived their sidelong glances +when I was complimented by the visiting neighbours on my good looks or +taste in the choice of my dresses. Miss Robinson rode on horseback in a +camlet safeguard, with a high-crowned bonnet; I wore a fashionable +habit, and looked like something human. Envy at length assumed the form +of insolence, and I was taunted perpetually on the folly of appearing +like a woman of fortune; that a lawyer's wife had no right to dress like +a duchess; and that, though I might be very accomplished, a good +housewife had no occasion for harpsichords and books,—they belonged to +women who brought wherewithal to support them. Such was the language of +vulgar, illiberal natures! Yet for three weeks I endured it patiently. +</p> +<p> +Knowing that Mr. Harris was disposed to think favourably of me,—that he +even declared he should "have liked me for his wife, had I not married +Tom," though he was then between sixty and seventy years of age, I +thought it most prudent to depart, lest, through the machinations of +Miss Betsy and Mrs. Molly, I should lose the share I had gained in his +affections. My mother was still at Bristol; and the morning of our +departure being arrived, to my infinite astonishment Mr. Harris proposed +accompanying us thither. It was in vain that Molly and Miss interfered +to prevent him; he swore that he would see me safe across the channel, +whatever might be the consequence of his journey. We set out together. +</p> +<p> +On our arrival at Bristol, Mr. Harris was presented to my mother, and by +her introduced to many respectable friends. He was consequently invited +to several dinner-parties. I was his idol; he would dance with me; when +he had taken the evening draught, he would sing with me, and I was to +him the most delightful of beings. Many embellishments for Tregunter +House were submitted to my taste and choice; and I remember, on his +giving orders for the marble chimney-pieces, he said, "Choose them as +you like them, Mrs. Robinson, for they are all for you and Tom when I am +no more." Indeed, he frequently assured me, while I was at Tregunter, +that the estate should be my husband's. +</p> +<p> +After passing many days at Bristol Mr. Harris returned to Wales, and our +party set out for London. Mr. Robinson's mind was easy, and his hopes +were confirmed by the kindness of his uncle; he now considered himself +as the most happy of mortals. We removed from Great Queen Street to a +house, No. 13, in Hatton Garden, which had been recently built. Mr. +Robinson hired it, and furnished it with peculiar elegance. I frequently +inquired into the extent of his finances, and he as often assured me +that they were in every respect competent to his expenses. In addition +to our domestic establishment, Mr. Robinson purchased a handsome +phaeton, with saddle-horses for his own use; and I now made my début, +though scarcely emerged beyond the boundaries of childhood, in the broad +hemisphere of fashionable folly. +</p> +<p> +A new face, a young person dressed with peculiar but simple elegance, +was sure to attract attention at places of public entertainment. The +first time I went to Ranelagh, my habit was so singularly plain and +Quaker-like that all eyes were fixed upon me. I wore a gown of light +brown lustring with close round cuffs (it was then the fashion to wear +long ruffles); my hair was without powder, and my head adorned with a +plain round cap and a white chip hat, without any ornaments whatever. +</p> +<p> +The second place of polite entertainment to which Mr. Robinson +accompanied me was the Pantheon concert, then the most fashionable +assemblage of the gay and the distinguished. At this place it was +customary to appear much dressed; large hoops and high feathers were +universally worn. My habit was composed of pale pink satin, trimmed with +broad sable; my dear mother presented me a suit of rich and valuable +point lace, which she had received from my father as a birthday gift, +and I was at least some hours employed in decorating my person for this +new sphere of fascination; I say some hours, because my shape at that +period required some arrangement, owing to the visible increase of my +domestic solicitudes. +</p> +<p> +As soon as I entered the Pantheon rotunda, I never shall forget the +impression which my mind received; the splendour of the scene, the dome +illuminated with variegated lamps, the music, and the beauty of the +women, seemed to present a circle of enchantment. I recollect that the +most lovely of fair forms met my eyes in that of Lady Almeria Carpenter. +The countenance which most pleased me was that of the late Mrs. +Baddeley.[<a href="#note-11">11</a>] The first Countess of Tyrconnel also appeared with +considerable <i>éclat</i>. But the buzz of the room, the unceasing murmur of +admiration, attended the Marchioness Townshend. I took my seat on a sofa +nearly opposite to that on which she was sitting, and I observed two +persons, evidently men of fashion, speaking to her, till one of them, +looking toward me, with an audible voice inquired of the other, "Who +is she?" +</p> +<p> +Their fixed stare disconcerted me; I rose, and, leaning on my husband's +arm, again mingled in the brilliant circle. The inquirers followed us; +stopping several friends, as we walked around the circle, and repeatedly +demanding of them, "Who is that young lady in the pink dress trimmed +with sable?" My manner and confusion plainly evinced that I was not +accustomed to the gaze of impertinent high breeding. I felt uneasy, and +proposed returning home, when I perceived that our two followers were +joined by a third, who, on looking at me, said, "I think I know her." It +was the late Earl of Northington.[<a href="#note-12">12</a>] +</p> +<p> +We had now to pass the group in order to quit the rotunda. Lord +Northington, leaving his companions, approached me. "Miss Darby, or I am +mistaken," said he, with a bow of marked civility. I replied that my +name was now changed to that of Robinson, and, to prevent any awkward +embarrassment, presented my husband, on whose arm I was still leaning. +Lord Northington continued to walk around the Pantheon with us, made +many inquiries after my father, complimented me on the improvement of my +person, and "hoped that he should be permitted to pay his respects to +Mr. and Mrs. Robinson." +</p> +<p> +We now entered the tea-room; there was not a seat vacant; I was +considerably fatigued, and somewhat faint with the heat of the rotunda. +I quitted the tea-room, and seated myself on a sofa near the door. In a +few minutes Lord Northington brought me a cup of tea, for Mr. Robinson +did not like to leave me alone, and at the same time presented his two +inquisitive friends, Lord Lyttelton and Captain Ayscough.[<a href="#note-13">13</a>] +</p> +<p> +I now proposed departing. Mr. Robinson accompanied me to the vestibule, +and while he was seeking the carriage Lord Lyttelton offered his +services. I had never till that evening heard his name, but there was an +easy effrontery in his address that completely disgusted, while his +determined gaze distressed and embarrassed me, and I felt inexpressible +satisfaction when Mr. Robinson returned to tell me that the carriage +was ready. +</p> +<p> +On the following morning Lords Northington, Lyttelton, and Colonel +Ayscough made their visits of ceremony. Mr. Robinson was not at home, +but I received them, though not without some embarrassment. I was yet a +child, and wholly unacquainted with the manners of the world; yet, young +as I was, I became the traveller of its mazy and perilous paths. At an +age when girls are generally at school, or indeed scarcely emancipated +from the nursery, I was presented in society as a wife—and very nearly +as a mother. +</p> +<p> +Lord Lyttelton, who was perhaps the most accomplished libertine that any +age or country has produced, with considerable artifice inquired after +Mr. Robinson, professed his earnest desire to cultivate his +acquaintance, and, on the following day, sent him a card of invitation. +Lyttelton was an adept in the artifices of fashionable intrigue. He +plainly perceived that both Mr. Robinson and myself were uninitiated in +its mysteries; he knew that to undermine a wife's honour he must become +master of the husband's confidence, and Mr. Robinson was too much +pleased with the society of a man whose wit was only equalled by his +profligacy, to shrink from such an association. +</p> +<p> +Fortunately for me, Lord Lyttelton was uniformly my aversion. His +manners were overbearingly insolent, his language licentious, and his +person slovenly even to a degree that was disgusting. Mr. Robinson was +in every respect the very reverse of his companion: he was unassuming, +neat, and delicate in his conversation. I had not a wish to descend from +the propriety of wedded life, and I abhorred, decidedly abhorred, the +acquaintance with Lord Lyttelton. +</p> +<p> +In the course of a few days his lordship presented me the works of Miss +Aitken[<a href="#note-14">14</a>] (now Mrs. Barbauld). I read them with rapture. I thought them +the most beautiful poems I had ever seen, and considered the woman who +could invent such poetry as the most to be envied of human creatures. +Lord Lyttelton had some taste for poetical compositions, and wrote +verses with considerable facility. +</p> +<p> +On the following Monday I again visited the Pantheon. My dress was then +white and silver. Again I was followed with attention. Lord Lyttelton +was my <i>cavaliere servente</i> that evening, though, as usual, his chief +attention was paid to Mr. Robinson. During the concert he presented the +Count de Belgeioso, the imperial ambassador, one of the most +accomplished foreigners I ever remember having met with. Lord Valentia +was also introduced, but as his lordship had recently made some <i>éclat</i> +by his attentions to the celebrated Mrs. Elliot, I rather avoided than +wished to cultivate his acquaintance. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson's intercourse with the world was now rapidly augmenting. +Every day was productive of some new association. Lord Lyttelton +presented many of his friends; among others, Captain O'Byrne, and Mr. +William Brereton, of Drury Lane Theatre. In the course of a short time +we also became acquainted with Sir Francis Molyneux, Mr. Alderman Sayer, +and the late unfortunate George Robert Fitzgerald.[<a href="#note-15">15</a>] Lord Northington +was also a constant visitor, and frequently rallied me on what he +thought my striking likeness to his family. +</p> +<p> +Among my female friends, those for whom I entertained the strongest +esteem were Lady Yea, the wife of Sir William Yea, and the sister of Sir +John Trevellyan. She was a lovely and accomplished woman. Mrs. Parry, +the wife of the Rev. Doctor Parry, and the author of "Eden Vale," a +novel, was also one of my most favourite acquaintances. Mrs. Parry was a +woman of considerable talents, a wit, and of remarkably +pleasing manners. +</p> +<p> +Of those who frequented our house Lord Lyttelton was most decidedly my +abhorrence; I knew that he frequently led my husband from the paths of +domestic confidence to the haunts of profligate debasement. Toward me +his lordship affected great indifference. He has even in my presence +declared that no woman under thirty years of age was worth admiring; +that even the antiquity of forty was far preferable to the insipidity of +sixteen; and he generally concluded his observations by hoping he had +not made "the pretty child angry." +</p> +<p> +I soon discovered that his intercourse with Lord Lyttelton produced a +very considerable change in Mr. Robinson's domestic deportment. They +were constantly together, and the neglect which I experienced began to +alarm me. I dedicated all my leisure hours to poetry; I wrote verses of +all sorts; and Mr. Robinson having mentioned that I had proposed +appearing on the stage, previous to my marriage, in the character of +Cordelia, Lord Lyttelton facetiously christened me the Poetess Corry. +</p> +<p> +It was with extreme regret, and frequently with uncontrollable +indignation, that I endured the neglect of my husband and the tauntings +of the profligate Lyttelton. "The child"—for so he generally called +me—was deserted for the society of the most libertine men and the most +abandoned women. Mr. Robinson became not only careless of his wife, but +of his pecuniary finances, while I was kept in total ignorance as to the +resources which supported his increasing expenses. +</p> +<p> +Among my other friends, Lady Yea frequently inquired by what means my +husband supported his household disbursements. Our table was elegantly, +though not profusely, served. Mr. Robinson seldom attended to his +profession, and I was too young, as well as too inexperienced, to look +after family affairs. My younger brother George, whom, upon my marriage, +Mr. Robinson and myself adopted as our own, now finding his health +impaired, my mother attended him at Bristol, so that I had no friend to +advise me who felt any real interest in my welfare. Dress, parties, +adulation, occupied all my hours. Mr. Robinson's easy temper was +influenced by the counsel of his friend Lyttelton, and he every hour +sunk more deeply in the gulf of dissipation. +</p> +<p> +Among the most dangerous of my husband's associates was George Robert +Fitzgerald. His manners toward women were interesting and attentive. He +perceived the neglect with which I was treated by Mr. Robinson, and the +pernicious influence which Lord Lyttelton had acquired over his mind; he +professed to feel the warmest interest in my welfare, lamented the +destiny which had befallen me in being wedded to a man incapable of +estimating my value, and at last confessed himself my most ardent and +devoted admirer. I shuddered at the declaration, for, amidst all the +allurements of splendid folly, my mind, the purity of my virtue, was +still uncontaminated. +</p> +<p> +I repulsed the dangerous advances of this accomplished person, but I did +not the less feel the humiliation to which a husband's indifference had +exposed me. God can bear witness to the purity of my soul, even +surrounded by temptations and mortified by neglect. Whenever I ventured +to inquire into pecuniary resources, Mr. Robinson silenced me by saying +that he was independent; added to this assurance, Lord Lyttelton +repeatedly promised that, through his courtly interest, he would very +shortly obtain for my husband some honourable and lucrative situation. +</p> +<p> +I confess that I reposed but little confidence in the promises of such a +man, though my husband believed them inviolable. Frequent parties were +made at his lordship's house in Hill Street, and many invitations +pressed for a visit to his seat at Hagley. These I peremptorily refused, +till the noble hypocrite became convinced of my aversion, and adopted a +new mode of pursuing his machinations. +</p> +<p> +One forenoon Lord Lyttelton called in Hatton Garden, as was almost his +daily custom, and, on finding teat Mr. Robinson was not at home, +requested to speak with me on business of importance. I found him +seemingly much distressed. He informed me that he had a secret to +communicate of considerable moment both to my interest and happiness. +I started. +</p> +<p> +"Nothing, I trust in Heaven, has befallen my husband!" said I, with a +voice scarcely articulate. +</p> +<p> +Lord Lyttelton hesitated. +</p> +<p> +"How little does that husband deserve the solicitude of such a wife!" +said he; "but," continued his lordship, "I fear that I have in some +degree aided in alienating his conjugal affections. I could not bear to +see such youth, such merit, so sacrificed—" +</p> +<p> +"Speak briefly, my lord," said I. +</p> +<p> +"Then," replied Lord Lyttelton, "I must inform you that your husband is +the most false and undeserving of that name! He has formed connection +with a woman of abandoned character; he lavishes on her those means of +subsistence which you will shortly stand in need of." +</p> +<p> +"I do not believe it," said I, indignantly. +</p> +<p> +"Then you shall be convinced," answered his lordship; "but remember, if +you betray me, your true and zealous friend, I must fight your husband; +for he never will forgive my having discovered his infidelity." +</p> +<p> +"It cannot be true," said I. "You have been misinformed." +</p> +<p> +"Then it has been by the woman who usurps your place in the affections +of your husband," replied Lord Lyttelton. "From her I received the +information. Her name is Harriet Wilmot; she resides in Soho. Your +husband daily visits her." +</p> +<p> +I thought I should have fainted; but a torrent of tears recalled the +ebbing current of my heart, and I grew proud in fortitude, though +humbled in self-love. +</p> +<p> +"Now," said Lord Lyttelton, "if you are a woman of spirit, you will be +<i>revenged</i>!" I shrunk with horror, and would have quitted the room. +"Hear me," said he. "You cannot be a stranger to my motives for thus +cultivating the friendship of your husband. My fortune is at your +disposal. Robinson is a ruined man; his debts are considerable, and +nothing but destruction can await you. Leave him! Command my powers to +serve you." +</p> +<p> +I would hear no more,—broke from him, and rushed out of the apartments. +My sensations, my sufferings were indescribable. +</p> +<p> +I immediately took a hackney-coach, and proceeded to Prince's Street, +Soho,—Lord Lyttelton having given me the address of my rival. Language +cannot describe what I suffered till I arrived at the lodgings of Miss +Wilmot. The coachman knocked, a dirty servant girl opened the door. Her +mistress was not at home. I quitted the coach and ascended to the +drawing-room, where the servant left me, after informing me that Miss W. +would return in a very short time. I was now left alone. +</p> +<p> +I opened the chamber door which led from the drawing-room. A new white +lustring sacque and petticoat lay on the bed. While I was examining the +room, a loud knocking at the street door alarmed me. I reëntered the +front apartment, and waited with a palpitating bosom till the being +whose triumph had awakened both my pride and my resentment appeared +before me. +</p> +<p> +She was a handsome woman, though evidently some years older than myself. +She wore a dress of printed Irish muslin, with a black gauze cloak and a +chip hat, trimmed with pale lilac ribbons; she was tall, and had a very +pleasing countenance. Her manner was timid and confused; her lips as +pale as ashes. I commiserated her distress, desired her not to be +alarmed, and we took our seats, with increased composure. +</p> +<p> +"I came to inquire whether or not you are acquainted with a Mr. +Robinson," said I. +</p> +<p> +"I am," replied Miss Wilmot. "He visits me frequently." She drew off her +glove as she spoke, and passing her hand over her eyes, I observed on +her finger a ring, which I knew to have been my husband's. +</p> +<p> +"I have nothing more to say," added I, "but to request that you will +favour me with Mr. Robinson's address; I have something which I wish to +convey to him." +</p> +<p> +She smiled, and cast her eyes over my figure. My dress was a morning +<i>déshabille</i> of India muslin, with a bonnet of straw, and a white lawn +cloak bordered with lace. +</p> +<p> +"You are Mr. Robinson's wife," said she, with a trembling voice. "I am +sure you are; and probably this ring was yours; pray receive it—" +</p> +<p> +I declined taking the ring. She continued, "Had I known that Mr. +Robinson was the husband of such a woman—" +</p> +<p> +I rose to leave her. She added, "I never will see him more,—unworthy +man,—I never will again receive him." +</p> +<p> +I could make no reply, but rose and departed. +</p> +<p> +On my return to Hatton Garden, I found my husband waiting dinner. I +concealed my chagrin. We had made a party that evening to Drury Lane +Theatre, and from thence to a select concert at the Count de +Belgeioso's, in Portman Square. Lord Lyttelton was to join us at both +places. We went to the play; but my agitation had produced such a +violent headache that I was obliged to send an apology for not keeping +our engagement at the imperial ambassador's. +</p> +<p> +On the following morning I spoke to Mr. Robinson respecting Miss Wilmot. +He did not deny that he knew such a person, that he had visited her; but +he threw all the blame of his indiscretion on Lord Lyttelton. He +requested to know who had informed me of his conduct. I refused to tell; +and he had too high an opinion of his false associate to suspect him of +such treachery. +</p> +<p> +At one of Mrs. Parry's card parties I met Mrs. Abington.[<a href="#note-16">16</a>] I thought +her the most lively and bewitching woman I had ever seen; her manners +were fascinating, and the peculiar tastefulness of her dress excited +universal admiration. My imagination again wandered to the stage, and I +thought the heroine of the scenic art was of all human creatures the +most to be envied. +</p> +<p> +About this period I observed that Mr. Robinson had frequent visitors of +the Jewish tribe; that he was often closeted with them, and that some +secret negotiation was going forward to which I was a total stranger. +Among others, Mr. King was a constant visitor; indeed, he had often been +with my husband on private business ever since the period of our +marriage. I questioned Mr. Robinson upon the subject of these strange +and repeated interviews. He assured me that the persons I had seen came +merely upon law business, and that in his profession it was necessary to +be civil to all ranks of people. Whenever I urged a farther explanation, +he assumed a tone of displeasure, and requested me not to meddle with +his professional occupations. I desisted; and the parlour of our house +was almost as much frequented by Jews as though it had been their +synagogue. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson's mornings were devoted to his bearded friends, his +evenings to his fashionable associates; but my hours were all dedicated +to sorrow, for I now heard that my husband, even at the period of his +marriage, had an attachment which he had not broken, and that his +infidelities were as public as the ruin of his finances was inevitable. +I remonstrated—I was almost frantic. My distress was useless, my wishes +to retrench our expenses ineffectual. Mr. Robinson had, previous to our +union, deeply involved himself in a bond debt of considerable magnitude, +and he had from time to time borrowed money on annuity,—one sum to +discharge the other,—till every plan of liquidation appeared +impracticable. During all this time my mother was at Bristol. +</p> +<p> +Lord Lyttelton, finding every plan of seduction fail, now rested his +only hope of subduing my honour in the certainty of my husband's ruin. +He therefore took every step, embraced every opportunity of involving +him more deeply in calamity. Parties were made to Richmond and Salt +Hill, to Ascot Heath and Epsom races, in all of which Mr. Robinson bore +his share of expense, with the addition of post-horses. Whenever he +seemed to shrink from his augmenting indiscretion, Lord Lyttelton +assured him that, through his interest, an appointment of honourable and +pecuniary importance should be obtained, though I embraced every +opportunity to assure his lordship that no consideration upon earth +should ever make me the victim of his artifice. +</p> + +<a name="image-1"><!-- Image 1 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image1.jpg" height="755" width="502" +alt="Lady Lyttelton Engraved by Chas. Townley from the Painting by Richard Casway"><br> +Lady Lyttelton, Engraved by Chas. Townley from the Painting by Richard Casway +</center> + +<p> +Mr. Fitzgerald still paid me unremitting attention. His manners toward +women were beautifully interesting. He frequently cautioned me against +the libertine Lyttelton, and as frequently lamented the misguided +confidence which Mr. Robinson reposed in him. Lord Lyttelton's shameless +conduct toward an amiable wife, from whom he was separated, and his +cruel neglect of a lady of the name of Dawson, who had long been +attached to him, marked the unworthiness of his character. He was the +very last man in the world for whom I ever could have entertained the +smallest partiality; he was to me the most hateful of existing beings. +Probably these pages will be read when the hand that writes them +moulders in the grave, when that God who judges all hearts will know how +innocent I was of the smallest conjugal infidelity. I make this solemn +asseveration because there have been malevolent spirits who, in the +plenitude of their calumny, have slandered me by suspecting my fidelity +even at this early period of my existence. These pages are the pages of +truth, unadorned by romance and unembellished by the graces of +phraseology, and I know that I have been sufficiently the victim of +events too well to become the tacit acquiescer where I have been grossly +misrepresented. Alas! of all created beings, I have been the most +severely subjugated by circumstances more than by inclination. +</p> +<p> +About this time a party was one evening made to Vauxhall. Mr. Fitzgerald +was the person who proposed it, and it consisted of six or eight +persons. The night was warm and the gardens crowded. We supped in the +circle which has the statue of Handel in its centre. The hour growing +late,—or rather early in the morning,—our company dispersed, and no +one remained excepting Mr. Robinson, Mr. Fitzgerald, and myself. +Suddenly a noise was heard near the orchestra. A crowd had assembled, +and two gentlemen were quarrelling furiously. Mr. R. and Fitzgerald ran +out of the box. I rose to follow them, but they were lost in the throng, +and I thought it most prudent to resume my place, which I had just +quitted, as the only certain way of their finding me in safety. In a +moment Fitzgerald returned. "Robinson," said he, "is gone to seek you at +the entrance-door. He thought you had quitted the box." +</p> +<p> +"I did for a moment," said I, "but I was fearful of losing him in the +crowd, and therefore returned." +</p> +<p> +"Let me conduct you to the door; we shall certainly find him there," +replied Mr. Fitzgerald. "I know that he will be uneasy." +</p> +<p> +I took his arm and we ran hastily toward the entrance-door on the +Vauxhall Road. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson was not there. We proceeded to look for our carriage. It +stood at some distance. I was alarmed and bewildered. Mr. Fitzgerald +hurried me along. "Don't be uneasy; we shall certainly find him," said +he, "for I left him here not five minutes ago." As he spoke, he stopped +abruptly. A servant opened a chaise door. There were four horses +harnessed to it; and by the light of the lamps on the side of the +footpath, I plainly perceived a pistol in the pocket of the door which +was open. I drew back. Mr. Fitzgerald placed his arm around my waist, +and endeavoured to lift me up the step of the chaise, the servant +watching at a little distance. I resisted, and inquired what he meant +by such conduct. His hand trembled excessively, while he said, in a low +voice, "Robinson can but fight me." I was terrified beyond all +description. I made him loose his hold, and ran toward the +entrance-door. Mr. Fitzgerald now perceived Mr. Robinson. "Here he +comes!" exclaimed he, with easy nonchalance. "We had found the wrong +carriage, Mr. Robinson. We have been looking after you, and Mrs. +Robinson is alarmed beyond expression." +</p> +<p> +"I am, indeed!" said I. Mr. Robinson now took my hand. We stepped into +the coach, and Mr. Fitzgerald followed. As we proceeded toward Hatton +Garden, the sky incessantly flashed lightning. I was terrified by the +combination of events, and I was in a situation which rendered any alarm +peculiarly dangerous, for I was several months advanced in that state +which afterward terminated by presenting to me my only child, my darling +Maria.[<a href="#note-17">17</a>] +</p> +<p> +I had often heard of Mr. Fitzgerald's propensity to duelling. I +recollected my own delicate situation; I valued my husband's safety. I +therefore did not mention the adventure of the evening, particularly as +Mr. Fitzgerald observed, on our way to Hatton Garden, that he had +"nearly made a strange mistake, and taken possession of another person's +carriage." This remark appeared so plausible that nothing further was +said upon the subject. +</p> +<p> +From that evening I was particularly cautious in avoiding Fitzgerald. He +was too daring and too fascinating a being to be allowed the smallest +marks of confidence. Whenever he called, I was denied to him, and at +length, perceiving the impracticability of his plan, he desisted, and +seldom called, excepting to leave his name as a visitor of ceremony. +</p> +<p> +I do not recount these events, these plans for my enthralment, with a +view to convey anything like personal vanity, for I can with truth +affirm that I never thought myself entitled to admiration that could +endanger my security or tempt the libertine to undermine my husband's +honour. But I attribute the snares that were laid for me to three +causes: the first, my youth and inexperience, my girlish appearance and +simplicity of manners; secondly, the expensive style in which Mr. +Robinson lived, though he was not known as a man of independent fortune; +and thirdly, the evident neglect which I experienced from my husband, +whom Lord Lyttelton's society had marked as a man of universal +gallantry. +</p> +<p> +I was now known by name at every public place in and near the +metropolis. Our circle of acquaintances enlarged daily. My friend Lady +Yea was my constant companion. Mr. Robinson became desperate, from a +thorough conviction that no effort of economy or professional labour +could arrange his shattered finances, the large debt which he owed +previous to his marriage with me having laid the foundation of every +succeeding embarrassment. +</p> +<p> +The moment now approached when the arcanum was to be developed, and an +execution on Mr. Robinson's effects, at the suit of an annuitant, +decided the doubts and fears which had long afflicted me. I was in a +great degree prepared for this event by the evident inquietude of my +husband's mind, and his frequent interviews with persons of a mysterious +description. Indeed, this crisis seemed rather consolatory than +appalling, for I hoped and trusted that the time was now arrived when +reason would take place of folly, and experience point out those thorns +which strew the pleasurable paths of dissipation. +</p> +<p> +At this period, had Mr. Harris generously assisted his son, I am fully +and confidently persuaded that he would have pursued a discreet and +regular line of conduct. His first involvement was the basis of all his +misfortunes. The impossibility of liquidating that debt (the motive for +which it was contracted is to this hour unknown to me) rendered him +desperate. Indeed, how could a young man, well educated,[<a href="#note-18">18</a>] subsist in +such a metropolis without some provision? Mr. Harris was a man of +fortune, and he ought to have known that necessity is the most dangerous +associate of youth; that folly may be reclaimed by kindness, but seldom +fails to be darkened into vice by the severity of unpitying natures. +</p> +<p> +From Hatton Garden we removed to a house which was lent to us by a +friend at Finchley. Here I hoped at least to remain tranquil till the +perilous moment was passed which was to render me a mother. I here +devoted my time to making my infant's little wardrobe; my finest muslin +dresses I converted into frocks and robes, with my lace I fondly trimmed +them. It was a sweetly pleasing task, and I often smiled when I +reflected that only three years before this period I had dressed a waxen +doll nearly as large as a new-born infant. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson had much business to transact in London, and I was almost +perpetually alone at Finchley. Of our domestic establishment there was +only one who did not desert us, and he was a negro!—one of that +despised, degraded race, who wear the colour on their features which too +often characterises the hearts of their fair and unfeeling oppressors. I +have found, during my journey through life, that the two male domestics +who were most attached to my interest and most faithful to my fortunes +were both negroes! +</p> +<p> +My mother now returned from Bristol, and I had the consolation of her +society. I divided my time betwixt reading, writing, and making a little +wardrobe for my expected darling. I little regretted the busy scenes of +life; I sighed not for public attention. I felt by this change of +situation as though a weighty load were taken from my heart, and solaced +my mind in the idea that the worst had happened which could befall us. +Gracious Heaven! How should I have shuddered, had I then contemplated +the dark perspective of my destiny! +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson went almost daily to London, and sometimes my brother +George, who was still a boy, accompanied him upon a little pony. One +day, after returning from one of their rides, my brother informed me +that he had been with Mr. Robinson to Marylebone, and that he had waited +and held Mr. Robinson's horse, while he made a morning visit. I had then +no acquaintance that resided at Marylebone. I questioned my brother as +to the place, and he persisted in his original story. "But," added he, +"if you say anything about it to Mr. Robinson, I never will tell you +where we go in future." I promised not to mention what he had said, and +my mind was deeply engaged in a variety of conjectures. +</p> +<p> +A few days after, Mr. Robinson made another visit, and my brother was +introduced to the lady. From the manner and conversation of both +parties, even a youth scarcely in his teens could draw conclusions of no +favourable nature. By the side of the chimney hung my watch, which I had +supposed lost in the general wreck of our property. It was enamelled +with musical trophies, and very remarkable for a steel chain of singular +beauty. The moment my brother described it my suspicions were confirmed; +and Mr. Robinson did not even attempt to deny his infidelity. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson, finding his creditors inexorable, and fearing that he +might endanger his personal liberty by remaining near London, informed +me that I must, in a few days, accompany him to Tregunter. I felt a +severe pang in the idea of quitting my adored mother at a moment when I +should stand so much in need of a parent's attentions. My agony was +extreme. I fancied that I never should behold her more; that the +harshness and humiliating taunts of my husband's kindred would send me +prematurely to the grave; that my infant would be left among strangers, +and that my mother would scarcely have fortitude sufficient to survive +me. Then I anticipated the inconvenience of so long a journey, for +Tregunter House was within a few miles of Brecon. I dreaded to encounter +the scornful vulgarity and the keen glances of Miss Betsy and Mrs. +Molly. I considered all these things with horror; but the propriety of +wedded life commanded the sacrifice, and I readily consented to make it. +</p> +<p> +With tender regret, with agonising presentiments, I took leave of my +mother and my brother. Such a parting would but mock the powers of +language! My delicate situation, my youth, my affection for my best of +mothers, all conspired to augment my sorrow; but a husband's repose, a +husband's liberty were at stake, and my Creator can bear witness that, +had I been blessed with that fidelity and affection which I deserved, my +heart was disposed to the observance of every duty, every claim which +would have embellished domestic propriety. +</p> +<p> +We set out for Tregunter. On our arrival there, I instantly perceived +that our misfortunes had outstripped our speed. Miss Robinson scarcely +bade us welcome, and Molly was peevish, even to insulting displeasure. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris was from home when we arrived. But he returned shortly after. +His greeting was harsh and unfeeling. "Well! so you have escaped from a +prison, and now you are come here to do penance for your follies? Well! +and what do you want?" I could not reply. I entered the house, and +instantly hastened to my old chamber, where my tears gave relief to that +heart which was almost bursting with agony. +</p> +<p> +Still Mr. Robinson conjured me to bear his uncle's wayward temper +patiently, I did, though every day I was taunted with idle and inhuman +questions, such as, "How long do you think that I will support you? What +is to become of you in a prison? What business have beggars to marry?" +With many others, equally feeling and high-minded! +</p> +<p> +The mansion of Tregunter presented but few sources of amusement for the +female mind. Mr. Harris had acquired a considerable fortune in trade, +and, however the art of accumulating wealth had been successfully +practised, the finer pursuits of mental powers had been totally +neglected. Books were unknown at Tregunter, excepting a few magazines or +periodical publications, which at different periods Miss Robinson +borrowed from her juvenile neighbours. There was, however, an old spinet +in one of the parlours. Music had been one of my early delights, and I +sometimes vainly endeavoured to draw a kind of jingling harmony from +this time-shaken and neglected instrument. These attempts, however, +frequently subjected me to insult. "I had better think of getting my +bread; women of no fortune had no right to follow the pursuits of fine +ladies. Tom had better married a good tradesman's daughter than the +child of a ruined merchant who was not capable of earning a living." +Such were the remarks of my amiable and enlightened father-in-law! +</p> +<p> +One day, I particularly remember, Mr. Harris had invited a large party +to dinner, John and Charles Morgan, Esqrs., members of Parliament, with +an old clergyman of the name of Jones, and several others were present. +I was then within a fortnight of my perilous moment. One of the company +expressed his satisfaction that I was come to give Tregunter a little +stranger; and turning to Mr. Harris, added: +</p> +<p> +"You have just finished your house in time for a nursery." +</p> +<p> +"No, no," replied Mr. Harris, laughing, "they came here because prison +doors were open to receive them." +</p> +<p> +I felt my face redden to scarlet; every person present seemed to +sympathise in my chagrin, and I was near sinking under the table with +confusion. Mr. Robinson's indignation was evident; but it was restrained +by duty as well as by necessity. +</p> +<p> +The manor-house was not yet finished; and a few days after our arrival +Mr. Harris informed me that he had no accommodation for my approaching +confinement. Where was I to go? was the next question. After many family +consultations, it was decided that I should remove to Trevecca House, +about a mile and a half distant, and there give to this miserable world +my first-born darling. +</p> +<p> +I removed to Trevecca; it was a spacious mansion at the foot of a +stupendous mountain, which, from its form, was called the Sugar-loaf. A +part of the building was converted into a flannel manufactory, and the +inhabitants were of the Huntingdonian school. Here I enjoyed the sweet +repose of solitude; here I wandered about woods entangled by the wild +luxuriance of nature, or roved upon the mountain's side, while the blue +vapours floated around its summit. Oh, God of Nature! Sovereign of the +universe of wonders! in those interesting moments how fervently did I +adore thee! +</p> +<p> +How often have I sat at my little parlour window and watched the pale +moonbeams darting amidst the sombre and venerable yew-trees that shed +their solemn shade over the little garden! How often have I strolled +down the woody paths, spangled with the dew of morning, and shaken off +the briery branches that hung about me! How tranquil did I feel, escaped +from kindred tyranny, and how little did I regret the busy scenes of +fashionable folly! Unquestionably the Creator formed me with a strong +propensity to adore the sublime and beautiful of his works! But it has +never been my lot to meet with an associating mind, a congenial spirit, +who could (as it were abstracted from the world) find a universe in the +sacred intercourse of soul, the sublime union of sensibility. +</p> +<p> +At Trevecca House I was tranquil, if not perfectly happy. I there +avoided the low taunts of uncultivated natures, the insolent vulgarity +of pride, and the overbearing triumphs of a family, whose loftiest +branch was as inferior to my stock as the small weed is beneath the +tallest tree that overshades it. I had formed a union with a family who +had neither sentiment nor sensibility; I was doomed to bear the society +of ignorance and pride; I was treated as though I had been the most +abject of beings, even at a time when my conscious spirit soared as far +above their powers to wound it as the mountain towered over the white +battlements of my then solitary habitation. +</p> +<p> +After my removal to Trevecca, I seldom saw Miss Robinson or Mrs. Molly; +Mr. Harris never called on me, though I was not more than a mile and a +half from Tregunter. At length the expected, though to me most perilous, +moment arrived, which awoke a new and tender interest in my bosom, which +presented to my fondly beating heart my child,—my Maria. I cannot +describe the sensations of my soul at the moment when I pressed the +little darling to my bosom, my maternal bosom; when I kissed its hands, +its cheeks, its forehead, as it nestled closely to my heart, and seemed +to claim that affection which has never failed to warm it. She was the +most beautiful of infants! I thought myself the happiest of mothers; her +first smile appeared like something celestial,—something ordained to +irradiate my dark and dreary prospect of existence. +</p> +<p> +Two days after my child was presented to this world of sorrow, my nurse, +Mrs. Jones, a most excellent woman, was earnestly desired by the people +of the manufactory to bring the infant among them; they wished to see +the "young squire's baby, the little heiress to Tregunter." It was in +vain that I dreaded the consequences of the visit, for it was in the +month of October; but Mrs. Jones assured me that infants in that part of +the world were very frequently carried into the open air on the day of +their birth; she also hinted that my refusal would hurt the feelings of +the honest people, and wear the semblance of pride more than of maternal +tenderness. This idea decided my acquiescence; and my little darling, +enveloped in the manufacture of her own romantic birthplace, made her +first visit to her kind but unsophisticated countrywomen. +</p> +<p> +No sooner did Mrs. Jones enter the circle than she was surrounded by the +gazing throng. The infant was dressed with peculiar neatness, and +nothing mortal could appear more lovely. A thousand and a thousand +blessings were heaped upon the "heiress of Tregunter," for so they +fancifully called her; a thousand times did they declare that the baby +was the very image of her father. Mrs. Jones returned to me; every word +she uttered soothed my heart; a sweet and grateful glow, for the first +time, bespoke the indescribable gratification which a fond parent feels +in hearing the praises of a beloved offspring. Yet this little absence +appeared an age; a variety of fears presented dangers in a variety of +shapes, and the object of all my care, of all my affection, was now +pressed closer to my heart than ever. +</p> +<p> +Amidst these sweet and never-to-be-forgotten sensations, Mr. Harris +entered my chamber. He abruptly inquired how I found myself, and, +seating himself by the side of my bed, began to converse family affairs. +I was too feeble to say much; and he had not the delicacy to consider +that Mrs. Jones, my nurse, and almost a stranger to me, was a witness to +our conversation. +</p> +<p> +"Well!" said Mr. Harris, "and what do you mean to do with your child?" +</p> +<p> +I made no answer. +</p> +<p> +"I will tell you," added he. "Tie it to your back and work for it." +</p> +<p> +I shivered with horror. +</p> +<p> +"Prison doors are open," continued Mr. Harris. "Tom will die in a gaol; +and what is to become of you?" +</p> +<p> +I remained silent. +</p> +<p> +Miss Robinson now made her visit. She looked at me without uttering a +syllable; but while she contemplated my infant's features, her innocent +sleeping face, her little dimpled hands folded on her breast, she +murmured, "Poor little wretch! Poor thing! It would be a mercy if it +pleased God to take it!" My agony of mind was scarcely supportable. +</p> +<p> +About three weeks after this period, letters arrived, informing Mr. +Robinson that his creditors were still inexorable, and that the place of +his concealment was known. He was cautioned not to run the hazard of an +arrest; indeed, he knew that such an event would complete his ruin with +Mr. Harris, from whom he should not receive any assistance. He +communicated this intelligence to me, and at the same time informed me +that he must absolutely depart from Trevecca immediately. I was still +extremely feeble, for my mental sufferings had impaired my corporeal +strength almost as much as the perils I had recently encountered. But +the idea of remaining at Trevecca without my husband was more terrible +than the prospect of annihilation, and I replied, without a hesitating +thought, "I am ready to go with you." +</p> +<p> +My good nurse, who was a very amiable woman, and under forty years of +age, conjured me to delay my journey. She informed me that it would be +dangerous to undertake it in my then weak state. My husband's liberty +was in danger, and my life appeared of little importance; for even at +that early period of my days I was already weary of existence. +</p> +<p> +On the succeeding morning we departed. Mrs. Jones insisted on +accompanying me on the first day's journey. Mr. Robinson, my nurse, and +myself occupied a post-chaise; my Maria was placed on a pillow on Mrs. +Jones's lap. The paleness of death overspread my countenance, and the +poor honest people of the mountains and the villages saw us depart with +sorrow, though not without their blessings. Neither Mr. Harris nor the +enlightened females of Tregunter expressed the smallest regret or +solicitude on the occasion. We reached Abergavenny that evening. My +little remaining strength was exhausted, and I could proceed no farther. +However singular these persecutions may appear, Mr. Robinson knows that +they are not in the smallest degree exaggerated. +</p> +<p> +At Abergavenny I parted from Mrs. Jones, and, having no domestic with +me, was left to take the entire charge of Maria. Reared in the tender +lap of affluence, I had learnt but little of domestic occupation; the +adorning part of education had been lavished, but the useful had never +been bestowed upon a girl who was considered as born to independence. +With these disadvantages, I felt very awkwardly situated, under the +arduous task I had to perform; but necessity soon prevailed, with the +soft voice of maternal affection, and I obeyed her dictates as the +dictates of nature. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Jones, whose excellent heart sympathised in all I suffered, would +not have parted from me in so delicate a moment, but she was the widow +of a tradesman at Brecon, and having quitted her home, where she had +left two daughters,—very pretty young women,—to attend me, she was +under the necessity of returning to them. With repeated good wishes, and +some tears of regret flowing from her feeling and gentle heart, +we parted. +</p> +<p> +On the following day we proceeded to Monmouth. Some relations of my +mother residing there, particularly my grandmother, I wished to remain +there till my strength was somewhat restored. We were received with +genuine affection; we were caressed with unfeigned hospitality. The good +and venerable object of my visit was delighted to embrace her +great-grandchild, and the family fireside was frequently a scene of calm +and pleasing conversation. How different were these moments from those +which I had passed with the low-minded inhabitants of Tregunter! +</p> +<p> +My grandmother, though then near seventy years of age, was still a +pleasing woman; she had in her youth been delicately beautiful; and the +neat simplicity of her dress, which was always either brown or black +silk, the piety of her mind, and the mildness of her nature, combined to +render her a most endearing object. +</p> +<p> +As soon as my strength recovered, I was invited to partake of many +pleasant entertainments. But the most favourite amusement I selected was +that wandering by the river Wye, or of exploring the antique remains of +Monmouth Castle, a part of which reached the garden of my grandmother's +habitation. I also constantly accompanied my amiable and venerable +relative to church; and I have often observed, with a mixture of +delight, and almost of envy, the tranquil resignation which religion +diffused over her mind, even at the very close of human existence. This +excellent woman expired of a gradual decay in the year 1780. +</p> +<p> +We had resided at Monmouth about a month, when I was invited to a ball. +My spirits and strength had been renovated by the change of scenery, and +I was persuaded to dance. I was at that time particularly fond of the +amusement, and my partial friends flattered me by saying that I measured +the mazy figure like a sylph. I was at that period a nurse; and, during +the evening, Maria was brought to an antechamber to receive the only +support she had ever yet taken. Unconscious of the danger attendant on +such an event, I gave her her accustomed nourishment immediately after +dancing. It was agitated by the violence of exercise and the heat of the +ballroom, and, on my return home, I found my infant in strong +convulsions. +</p> +<p> +My distraction, my despair, was terrible; my state of mind rendered it +impossible for me to afford any internal nourishment to the child, even +when her little mouth was parched, or the fit in the smallest degree +abated. I was little less than frantic; all the night I sat with her on +my arms; an eminent medical man attended. The convulsions continued, and +my situation was terrible; those who witnessed it cautiously avoided +informing me that the peril of my infant proceeded from my dancing; had +I known it at that period, I really believe I should have lost +my senses. +</p> +<p> +In this desperate state, with only short intervals of rest, my darling +continued till the morning. All my friends came to make inquiries, and, +among others, a clergyman who visited at my grandmother's. He saw the +child, as it was thought, expiring; he saw me still sitting where I had +taken my place of despair on the preceding night, fixed in the stupor of +unutterable affliction. He conjured me to let the child be removed. I +was in a raging fever; the effects of not having nourished my child +during twelve hours began to endanger my own existence, and I looked +forward to my dissolution as the happiest event that could befall me. +</p> +<p> +Still Maria lay upon my lap, and still I resisted every attempt that was +made to remove her. Just at this period the clergyman recollected that +he had seen one of his children relieved from convulsions by a simple +experiment, and he requested my permission to try its effects. The child +was given over by my medical attendant, and I replied, "However +desperate the remedy, I conjure you to administer it." +</p> +<p> +He now mixed a tablespoonful of spirit of aniseed with a small quantity +of spermaceti, and gave it to my infant. In a few minutes the convulsive +spasms abated, and in less than an hour she sunk into a sweet and +tranquil slumber. What I felt may be pictured to a fond mother's fancy, +but my pen would fail in attempting to describe it. +</p> +<p> +Some circumstances now occurred which gave Mr. Robinson reason to +believe that he was not safe at Monmouth, and we prepared for a removal +to some other quarter. The day was fixed for commencing our journey, +when an execution arrived for a considerable sum, and Mr. Robinson was +no longer at liberty to travel. My alarm was infinite; the sum was too +large for the possibility of liquidation, and, knowing Mr. Robinson's +desperate fortune, I thought it unjust as well as ungenerous to attempt +the borrowing of it. Fortunately the sheriff for the county was a friend +of the family. He was a gentlemanly and amiable man, and offered—to +avoid any unpleasant dilemma—to accompany us to London. We set out the +same evening, and never slept till we arrived in the metropolis. +</p> +<p> +I immediately hastened to my mother, who resided in Buckingham Street, +York Buildings, now the Adelphi. Her joy was boundless. She kissed me a +thousand times, she kissed my beautiful infant; while Mr. Robinson +employed the day in accommodating the business which had brought him to +London. He had been arrested by a friend, with a hope that, so near a +father's habitation, such a sum would have been paid; at least, such is +the reason assigned for such unfriendly conduct![<a href="#note-19">19</a>] +</p> +<p> +The matter was, however, arranged on an explanation taking place, and +Mr. Robinson engaged a lodging near Berners Street, whither we repaired +on the same evening. My little collection of poems, which I had arranged +for publication, and which had been ready ever since my marriage, I now +determined to print immediately. They were indeed trifles, very trifles; +I have since perused them with a blush of self-reproof, and wondered how +I could venture on presenting them to the public. I trust that there is +not a copy remaining, excepting that which my dear, partial mother +fondly preserved, and which is now in my possession. +</p> +<p> +I had been in town a few days, when some female friends persuaded me to +accompany a party which they had formed to Ranelagh. Mr. Robinson +declined going, but after much entreaty I consented. I had now been +married near two years; my person was considerably improved; I was grown +taller than when I became Mr. Robinson's wife, and I had now more the +manners of a woman of the world than those of girlish simplicity, which +had hitherto characterised me, though I had been some months absent from +London, and a part of them rusticated among mountains. The dress which I +wore was plain and simple; it was composed of pale lilac lustring. My +head had a wreath of white flowers; I was complimented on my looks by +the whole party, and with little relish for public amusements, and a +heart throbbing with domestic solicitude, I accompanied the party +to Ranelagh. +</p> +<p> +The first person I saw, on entering the rotunda, was George Robert +Fitzgerald. He started as if he had received a shock of electricity. I +turned my head away, and would have avoided him; but he instantly +quitted two friends with whom he was walking, and presented himself to +me. He expressed great pleasure at seeing me once more in "the world;" +was surprised at finding me for the first time in public without my +husband, and requested permission to pay his respects to me at my house. +I replied that I was "on a visit to some friends." He bowed, and +rejoined his companions. +</p> +<p> +During the evening, however, he never ceased to follow me. We quitted +the rotunda early; and, as we were waiting for the carriage, I again +observed Fitzgerald in the antechamber. We passed the vestibule, and at +the door his own carriage was waiting. +</p> +<p> +On the following noon I was correcting a proof-sheet of my volume, when +the servant abruptly announced Mr. Fitzgerald! +</p> +<p> +I was somewhat disconcerted by this unexpected visit, and received Mr. +Fitzgerald with a cold and embarrassed mien, which evidently mortified +him; I also felt a little worldly vanity in the moment of surprise, for +my morning dress was more calculated to display maternal assiduity than +elegant and tasteful <i>déshabille</i>. In a small basket near my chair slept +my little Maria; my table was spread with papers, and everything around +me presented the mixed confusion of a study and a nursery. +</p> +<p> +From the period of Mrs. Jones's quitting me at Abergavenny, I had made +it an invariable rule always to dress and undress my infant. I never +suffered it to be placed in a cradle, or to be fed out of my presence. A +basket of an oblong shape with four handles (with a pillow and a small +bolster) was her bed by day; at night she slept with me. I had too often +heard of the neglect which servants show to young children, and I +resolved never to expose an infant of mine either to their ignorance or +inattention. It was amidst the duties of a parent, that the gay, the +high-fashioned Fitzgerald now found me; and whenever either business, +or, very rarely, public amusements drew me from the occupation, my +mother never failed to be my substitute. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fitzgerald said a thousand civil things; but that which charmed me, +was the admiration of my child. He declared that he had never seen so +young a mother, or so beautiful an infant. For the first remark I +sighed, but the last delighted my bosom; she indeed was one of the +prettiest little mortals that ever the sun shone upon. +</p> +<p> +The nest subject was praise of my poetry. I smile while I recollect how +far the effrontery of flattery has power to belie the judgment. Mr. +Fitzgerald took up the proof-sheet and read one of the pastorals. I +inquired by what means he had discovered my place of residence; he +informed me that his carriage had followed me home on the preceding +night. He now took his leave. +</p> +<p> +On the following evening he made us another visit; I say us, because Mr. +Robinson was at home. Mr. Fitzgerald drank tea with us, and proposed +making a party on the next day to dine at Richmond. To this I gave a +decided negative; alleging that my duties toward my child prevented the +possibility of passing a day absent from her. +</p> +<p> +On the Wednesday following, Mr. Robinson accompanied me again to +Ranelagh. There we met Lord Northington, Lord Lyttelton, Captain +O'Bryan, Captain Ayscough, Mr. Andrews, and several others, who all, in +the course of the evening, evinced their attentions. But as Mr. +Robinson's deranged state of affairs did not admit of our receiving +parties at home, I made my excuses by saying that we were at a friend's +house and not yet established in a town residence. Lord Lyttelton was +particularly importunate; but he received the same answer which I had +given to every other inquirer. +</p> +<p> +A short time after, Mr. Robinson was arrested. Now came my hour of +trial. He was conveyed to the house of a sheriff's officer, and in a few +days detainers were lodged against him to the amount of twelve hundred +pounds, chiefly the arrears of annuities and other demands from Jew +creditors; for I can proudly and with truth declare that he did not at +that time, or at any period since, owe fifty pounds for me, or to any +tradesmen on my account whatever. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson knew that it would be useless to ask Mr. Harris's +assistance; indeed, his mind was too much depressed to make an exertion +for the arrangement of his affairs. He was, therefore, after waiting +three weeks in the custody of a sheriff's officer (during which time I +had never left him for a single hour, day or night), obliged to submit +to the necessity of becoming a captive. +</p> +<p> +For myself I cared but little; all my anxiety was for Mr. Robinson's +repose and the health of my child. The apartment which we obtained was +in the upper part of the building, overlooking a racket-ground. Mr. +Robinson was expert in all exercises of strength or activity, and he +found that amusement daily which I could not partake of. I had other +occupations of a more interesting nature,—the care of a beloved and +still helpless daughter.[<a href="#note-20">20</a>] +</p> +<p> +During nine months and three weeks, never once did I pass the threshold +of our dreary habitation; though every allurement was offered, every +effort was made, to draw me from my scene of domestic attachment. +Numberless messages and letters from Lords Northington and Lyttelton, +from Mr. Fitzgerald and many others, were conveyed to me. But they all, +excepting Lord Northington's, were dictated in the language of +gallantry, were replete with professions of love, and wishes to release +me from my unpleasant and humiliating situation,—and were therefore +treated with contempt, scorn, and indignation. For God can bear witness +that, at that period, my mind had never entertained a thought of +violating those vows which I had made to my husband at the altar. +</p> +<p> +What I suffered during this tedious captivity! My little volume of poems +sold but indifferently; my health was considerably impaired; and the +trifling income which Mr. Robinson received from his father was scarcely +sufficient to support him. I will not enter into a tedious detail of +vulgar sorrows, of vulgar scenes; I seldom quitted my apartment, and +never till the evening, when for air and exercise I walked on the +racket-ground with my husband. +</p> +<p> +It was during one of these night walks that my little daughter first +blessed my ears with the articulation of words. The circumstance made a +forcible and indelible impression on my mind. It was a clear moonlight +evening; the infant was in the arms of her nursery-maid; she was dancing +her up and down, and was playing with her; her eyes were fixed on the +moon, to which she pointed with her small forefinger. On a sudden a +cloud passed over it, and the child, with a slow falling of her hand, +articulately sighed, "All gone!" This had been a customary expression +with her maid, whenever the infant wanted anything which it was deemed +prudent to withhold or to hide from her. These little nothings will +appear insignificant to the common reader, but to the parent whose heart +is ennobled by sensibility they will become matters of important +interest. I can only add, that I walked till near midnight, watching +every cloud that passed over the moon, and as often, with a rapturous +sensation, hearing my little prattler repeat her observation. +</p> +<p> +Having much leisure and many melancholy hours, I again turned my +thoughts toward the muses. I chose "Captivity" for the subject of my +pen, and soon composed a quarto poem of some length; it was superior to +my former production, but it was full of defects, replete with weak or +laboured lines. I never now rend my early compositions without a +suffusion on my cheek, which marks my humble opinion of them. +</p> +<p> +At this period I was informed that the Duchess of Devonshire[<a href="#note-21">21</a>] was the +admirer and patroness of literature. With a mixture of timidity and hope +I sent her Grace a neatly bound volume of my poems, accompanied by a +short letter apologising for their defects, and pleading my age as the +only excuse for their inaccuracy. My brother, who was a charming youth, +was the bearer of my first literary offering at the shrine of nobility. +The duchess admitted him, and with the most generous and amiable +sensibility inquired some particulars respecting my situation, with a +request that on the following day I would make her a visit. +</p> +<p> +I knew not what to do. Her liberality claimed my compliance; yet, as I +had never, during my husband's long captivity, quitted him for half an +hour, I felt a sort of reluctance that pained the romantic firmness of +my mind, while I meditated what I considered as a breach of my domestic +attachment. However, at the particular and earnest request of Mr. +Robinson, I consented, and accordingly accepted the duchess's +invitation. +</p> +<p> +During my seclusion from the world, I had adapted my dress to my +situation. Neatness was at all times my pride; but now plainness was the +conformity to necessity. Simple habiliments became the abode of +adversity; and the plain brown satin gown, which I wore on my first +visit to the Duchess of Devonshire, appeared to me as strange as a +birthday court-suit to a newly married citizen's daughter. +</p> +<p> +To describe the duchess's look and manner when she entered the back +drawing-room of Devonshire House would be impracticable; mildness and +sensibility beamed in her eyes and irradiated her countenance. She +expressed her surprise at seeing so young a person, who had already +experienced such vicissitude of fortune; she lamented that my destiny +was so little proportioned to what she was pleased to term my desert, +and with a tear of gentle sympathy requested that I would accept a proof +of her good wishes. I had not words to express my feelings, and was +departing, when the duchess requested me to call on her very often, and +to bring my little daughter with me. +</p> +<p> +I made frequent visits to the amiable duchess, and was at all times +received with the warmest proofs of friendship. My little girl, to whom +I was still a nurse, generally accompanied me, and always experienced +the kindest caresses from my admired patroness, my liberal and +affectionate friend. Frequently the duchess inquired most minutely into +the story of my sorrows, and as often gave me tears of the most +spontaneous sympathy. But such was my destiny, that while I cultivated +the esteem of this best of women, by a conduct which was above the reach +of reprobation, my husband, even though I was the partner of his +captivity, the devoted slave to his necessities, indulged in the lowest +and most degrading intrigues; frequently, during my short absence with +the duchess,—for I never quitted the prison but to obey her +summons,—he was known to admit the most abandoned of their sex, women +whose low, licentious lives were such as to render them the shame and +outcasts of society. These disgraceful meetings were arranged, even +while I was in my own apartment, in a next room, and by the assistance +of an Italian, who was also there a captive. I was apprised of the +proceeding, and I questioned Mr. Robinson upon the subject. He denied +the charge; but I availed myself of an opportunity that offered, and was +convinced that my husband's infidelities were both frequent and +disgraceful. +</p> +<p> +Still I pursued my plan of the most rigid domestic propriety; still I +preserved my faith inviolate, my name unsullied. At times I endured the +most poignant sufferings, from the pain of disappointed hope, and the +pressure of pecuniary distresses. +</p> +<p> +During my long seclusion from society, for I could not associate with +those whom destiny had placed in a similar predicament, not one of my +female friends even inquired what was become of me. Those who had been +protected and received with the most cordial hospitality by me in my +more happy hours now neglected all the kind condolence of sympathetic +feeling, and shunned both me and my dreary habitation. From that hour I +have never felt the affection for my own sex which perhaps some women +feel; I have never taught my heart to cherish their friendship, or to +depend on their attentions beyond the short perspective of a prosperous +day. Indeed, I have almost uniformly found my own sex my most inveterate +enemies; I have experienced little kindness from them, though my bosom +has often ached with the pang inflicted by their envy, slander, and +malevolence. +</p> +<p> +The Italian whom I took occasion to mention as the <i>cicerone</i> of my +husband's gallantries was named Albanesi. He was the husband to a +beautiful Roman woman of that name, who had some years before attracted +considerable attention in the hemisphere of gallantry, where she had +shone as a brilliant constellation. She had formerly been the mistress +of a Prince de Courland, and afterward of the Covet de Belgeioso, the +imperial ambassador; but at the period in which I first saw her she was, +I believe, devoted to a life of unrestrained impropriety. She frequently +came to visit her husband, who had held a situation an the opera-house +during the management of Mr. Hobart,[<a href="#note-22">22</a>] now Earl of Buckinghamshire. I +remember she was one of the handsomest women I had ever seen, and that +her dress was the most extravagantly splendid. Satins, richly +embroidered, or trimmed with point lace, were her daily habiliments; and +her personal attractions were considerably augmented by the peculiar +dignity and grace with which she walked: in a few words, this woman was +a striking sample of beauty and of profligacy. +</p> +<p> +Whenever she came to visit her <i>sposo</i>, she never failed to obtrude +herself on my seclusion. Mr. Rabinson rather encouraged than shunned her +visits, and I was obliged to receive the beautiful Angelina (for such +was her Christian name), however repugnant such an associate was to my +feelings. At every interview she took occasion to ridicule my romantic +domestic attachment; laughed at my folly in wasting my youth (for I was +not then eighteen years of age) in such a disgraceful obscurity; and +pictured, in all the glow of fanciful scenery, the splendid life into +which I might enter, if I would but know my own power, and break the +fetters of matrimonial restriction. She once told me that she had +mentioned to the Earl of Pembroke that there was a young married lady in +the most humiliating captivity with her husband; she said that she had +described my person, and that Lord Pembroke was ready to offer me +his services. +</p> +<p> +This proposal fully proclaimed the meaning of Signora Albanesi's visits, +and I resolved in future to avoid all conversation with her. She was at +that time between thirty and forty years of age, and her day of +splendour was hourly sinking to the obscurity of neglect; she was +nevertheless still reluctant to resign the dazzling meteors which +fashion had scattered in her way, and, having sacrificed every personal +feeling for the gratification of her vanity, she now sought to build a +gaudy, transient fabric on the destruction of another. In addition to +her persuasions, her husband, Angelo Albanesi, constantly made the world +of gallantry the subject of his conversation. Whole evenings has he +sitten in our apartment, telling long stories of intrigue, praising the +liberality of one nobleman, the romantic chivalry of another, the +sacrifice which a third had made to an adored object, and the splendid +income which a fourth would bestow on any young lady of education and +mental endowments who would accept his protection, and be the partner of +his fortune. I always smiled at Albanesi's innuendoes; and I still found +some amusement in his society, when he thought fit to divest his +conversation of his favourite topic. This Italian, though neither young +nor even tolerably well-looking, was uncommonly entertaining; he could +sing, likewise imitate various musical instruments, was an excellent +buffoon, and a very neat engraver; some of his plates were executed +under the inspection of Sherwin, and he was considered as a very +promising artist. +</p> +<p> +Were I to describe one-half of what I suffered during fifteen months' +captivity, the world would consider it as the invention of a novel. But +Mr. Robinson knows what I endured, and how patiently, how correctly I +suited my mind to the strict propriety of wedded life; he knows that my +duty as a wife was exemplary, my chastity inviolate; he knows that +neither poverty nor obscurity, neither the tauntings of the world, nor +his neglect, could tempt me even to the smallest error; he knows that I +bore my afflicting humiliations with a cheerful, uncomplaining spirit; +that I toiled honourably for his comfort; and that my attentions were +exclusively dedicated to him and to my infant. +</p> +<p> +The period now arrived when Mr. Robinson, by setting aside some debts, +and by giving fresh bonds and fresh securities for others, once more +obtained his liberty. I immediately conveyed the intelligence to my +lovely Duchess of Devonshire, and she wrote me a letter of kind +congratulation; she was then at Chatsworth. +</p> +<p> +The first moments of emancipation were delightful to the senses. I felt +as though I had been newly born; I longed to see all my old and intimate +associates, and almost forgot that they had so unworthily neglected me. +Everything that had passed now appeared like a melancholy vision. The +gloom had dissolved, and a new perspective seemed to brighten before me. +</p> +<p> +The first place of public entertainment I went to was Vauxhall. I had +frequently found occasion to observe a mournful contrast when I had +quitted the elegant apartment of Devonshire House, to enter the dark +galleries of a prison; but the sensation which I felt on hearing the +music, and beholding the gay throng, during this first visit in public +after so long a seclusion, was indescribable. During the evening we met +many old acquaintances,—some who pretended ignorance of our past +embarrassments, and others who joined us with the ease of fashionable +apathy; among these was Lord Lyttelton, who insolently remarked, "that, +notwithstanding all that had passed, I was handsomer than ever." I made +no reply but by a look of scornful indignation, which silenced the bold, +the unfeeling commentator, and convinced him that, though fallen in +fortune; I was still high in pride. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson having once more obtained his liberty, how were we to +subsist honourably and above reproach? He applied to his father, but +every aid was refused; he could not follow his profession, because he +had not completed his articles of clerkship. I resolved on turning my +thoughts toward literary labour, and projected a variety of works, by +which I hoped to obtain at least a decent independence. Alas! how little +did I then know either the fatigue or the hazard of mental occupations! +How little did I foresee that the day would come when my health would be +impaired, my thoughts perpetually employed, in so destructive a pursuit! +At the moment that I write this page, I feel in every fibre of my brain +the fatal conviction that it is a destroying labour. +</p> + +<a name="image-2"><!-- Image 2 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image2.jpg" height="743" width="533" +alt="William Brereton in the Character of Douglas from a Painting by N. Hone"><br> +William Brereton in the Character of Douglas from a Painting by N. Hone +</center> + +<p> +It was at this moment of anxiety, of hope, of fear, that my thoughts +once more were turned to a dramatic life; and, walking with my husband +in St. James's Park, late in the autumn, we were accosted by Mr. +Brereton, of Drury Lane Theatre. I had not seen him during the last two +years, and he seemed rejoiced in having met us. At that period we lodged +at Lyne's, the confectioner, in Old Bond Street. Mr. Brereton went home +and dined with us; and after dinner the conversation turned on my +partiality to the stage, which he earnestly recommended as a scene of +great promise to what he termed my promising talents. The idea rushed +like electricity through my brain. I asked Mr. Robinson's opinion, and +he now readily consented to my making the trial. He had repeatedly +written to his father, requesting even the smallest aid toward our +support until he could embark in his profession; but every letter +remained unanswered, and we had no hope but in our own mental exertions. +</p> +<p> +Some time after this period, we removed to a more quiet situation, and +occupied a very neat and comfortable suite of apartments in Newman +Street. I was then some months advanced in a state of domestic +solicitude, and my health seemed in a precarious state, owing to my +having too long devoted myself to the duties of a mother in nursing my +eldest daughter Maria. It was in this lodging that, one morning, wholly +unexpectedly, Mr. Brereton made us a second visit, bringing with him a +friend, whom he introduced on entering the drawing-room. This stranger +was Mr. Sheridan.[<a href="#note-23">23</a>] +</p> +<p> +I was overwhelmed with confusion. I know not why, but I felt a sense of +mortification when I observed that my appearance was carelessly +<i>déshabillé</i>, and my mind as little prepared for what I guessed to be +the motive of his visit. I, however, soon recovered my recollection, and +the theatre was consequently the topic of discourse. +</p> +<p> +At Mr. Sheridan's earnest entreaties, I recited some passages from +Shakespeare. I was alarmed and timid; but the gentleness of his manners, +and the impressive encouragement he gave me, dissipated my fears and +tempted me to go on. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Sheridan had then recently purchased a share of Drury Lane Theatre, +in conjunction with Mr. Lacey and Doctor Ford; he was already celebrated +as the author of "The Rivals" and "The Duenna," and his mind was +evidently portrayed in his manners, which were strikingly and +bewitchingly attractive. +</p> +<p> +The encouragement which I received in this essay, and the praises which +Mr. Sheridan lavishly bestowed, determined me to make a public trial of +my talents; and several visits, which were rapidly repeated by Mr. +Sheridan, at length produced an arrangement for that period. My +intention was intimated to Mr. Garrick, who, though he had for some +seasons retired from the stage, kindly promised protection, and as +kindly undertook to be my tutor. +</p> +<p> +The only objection which I felt to the idea of appearing on the stage +was my then increasing state of domestic solicitude. I was, at the +period when Mr. Sheridan was first presented to me, some months advanced +in that situation which afterward, by the birth of Sophia, made me a +second time a mother. Yet such was my imprudent fondness for Maria, that +I was still a nurse; and my constitution was very considerably impaired +by the effects of these combined circumstances. +</p> +<p> +An appointment was made in the greenroom of Drury Lane Theatre. Mr. +Garrick, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Brereton, and my husband were present; I +there recited the principal scenes of Juliet (Mr. Brereton repeating +those of Romeo), and Mr. Garrick, without hesitation, fixed on that +character as the trial of my debut. +</p> +<p> +It is impossible to describe the various emotions of hope and fear that +possessed my mind when the important day was announced in the playbills. +I wrote to the Duchess of Devonshire at Chatsworth, informing her of my +purposed trial, and received a kind letter of approbation, sanctioning +my plan and wishing me success. Every longing of my heart seemed now to +be completely gratified; and, with zeal bordering on delight, I prepared +for my approaching effort. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Garrick had been indefatigable at the rehearsals, frequently going +through the whole character of Romeo himself until he was completely +exhausted with the fatigue of recitation. This was only a short period +before the death of that distinguished actor. +</p> +<p> +The theatre was crowded with fashionable spectators; the greenroom and +orchestra (where Mr. Garrick sat during the night) were thronged with +critics. My dress was a pale pink satin, trimmed with crape, richly +spangled with silver; my head was ornamented with white feathers, and my +monumental suit, for the last scene, was white satin, and completely +plain, excepting that I wore a veil of the most transparent gauze, which +fell quite to my feet from the back of my head, and a string of beads +around my waist, to which was suspended a cross appropriately fashioned. +</p> +<p> +When I approached the side wing, my heart throbbed convulsively; I then +began to fear that my resolution would fail, and I leaned upon the +nurse's arm, almost fainting. Mr. Sheridan and several other friends +encouraged me to proceed; and at length, with trembling limbs and +fearful apprehension, I approached the audience. +</p> +<p> +The thundering applause that greeted me nearly overpowered all my +faculties. I stood mute and bending with alarm, which did not subside +till I had feebly articulated the few sentences of the first short +scene, during the whole of which I had never once ventured to look at +the audience. +</p> +<p> +On my return to the greenroom I was again encouraged, as far as my looks +were deemed deserving of approbation; for of my powers nothing yet could +be known, my fears having as it were palsied both my voice and action. +The second scene being the masquerade, I had time to collect myself. I +never shall forget the sensation which rushed through my bosom when I +first looked toward the pit. I beheld a gradual ascent of heads. All +eyes were fixed upon me, and the sensation they conveyed was awfully +impressive; but the keen, the penetrating eyes of Mr. Garrick, darting +their lustre from the centre of the orchestra, were, beyond all others, +the objects most conspicuous.[<a href="#note-24">24</a>] +</p> +<p> +As I acquired courage, I found the applause augment; and the night was +concluded with peals of clamorous approbation. I was complimented on all +sides; but the praise of one object, whom most I wished to please, was +flattering even to the extent of human vanity. I then experienced, for +the first time in my life, a gratification which language could not +utter. I heard one of the most fascinating men, and the most +distinguished geniuses of the age, honour me with partial approbation. A +new sensation seemed to awake in my bosom; I felt that emulation which +the soul delights to encourage, where the attainment of fame will be +pleasing to the esteemed object. I had till that period known no impulse +beyond that of friendship; I had been an example of conjugal fidelity; +but I had never known the perils to which the feeling heart is subjected +in a union of regard wholly uninfluenced by the affections of the soul. +</p> +<p> +The second character which I played was Amanda, in "A Trip to +Scarborough."[<a href="#note-25">25</a>] The play was altered from Vanbrugh's "Relapse;" and +the audience, supposing it was a new piece, on finding themselves +deceived, expressed a considerable degree of disapprobation. I was +terrified beyond imagination when Mrs. Yates, no longer able to bear the +hissing of the audience, quitted the scene, and left me alone to +encounter the critic tempest. I stood for some moments as though I had +been petrified. Mr. Sheridan, from the side wing, desired me not to quit +the boards; the late Duke of Cumberland,[<a href="#note-26">26</a>] from the stage-box, bade me +take courage: "It is not you, but the play, they hiss," said his Royal +Highness. I curtseyed; and that curtsey seemed to electrify the whole +house, for a thundering appeal of encouraging applause followed. The +comedy was suffered to go on, and is to this hour a stock play at Drury +Lane Theatre. +</p> +<p> +The third character I played was Statira, in "Alexander the Great." Mr. +Lacey, then one of the proprietors of Drury Lane Theatre, was the hero +of the night, and the part of Roxana was performed by Mrs. Melmoth. +Again I was received with an <i>éclat</i> that gratified my vanity. My dress +was white and blue, made after the Persian costume; and though it was +then singular on the stage, I wore neither a hoop nor powder; my feet +were bound by sandals richly ornamented, and the whole dress was +picturesque and characteristic. +</p> +<p> +Though I was always received with the most flattering approbation, the +characters in which I was most popular were Ophelia, Juliet, and +Rosalind. Palmira was also one of my most approved representations. The +last character which I played was Sir Harry Revel, in Lady Craven's +comedy of "The Miniature Picture;" and the epilogue song in "The Irish +Widow"[<a href="#note-27">27</a>] was my last farewell to the labour of my profession. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Sheridan now informed me he wished that I would accustom myself to +appear in comedy, because tragedy seemed evidently, as well as my +<i>forte</i>, to be my preference. At the same time he acquainted me that he +wished me to perform a part in "The School for Scandal." I was now so +unshaped by my increasing size that I made my excuses, informing Mr. +Sheridan that probably I should be confined to my chamber at the period +when his since celebrated play would first make its appearance. He +accepted the apology, and in a short time I gave to the world my second +child, Sophia. I now resided in Southampton Street, Covent Garden. +</p> +<p> +Previous to this event I had my benefit night, on which I performed the +part of Fanny, in "The Clandestine Marriage." Mr. King, the Lord Ogleby; +Miss Pope, Miss Sterling; and Mrs. Heidelberg, Mrs. Hopkins. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Sheridan's attentions to me were unremitting. He took pleasure in +promoting my consequence at the theatre; he praised my talents, and he +interested himself in my domestic comforts. I was engaged previous to my +début, and I received what at that time was considered as a handsome +salary. My benefit was flatteringly attended. The boxes were filled with +persons of the very highest rank and fashion, and I looked forward with +delight both to celebrity and to fortune. +</p> +<p> +At the end of six weeks I lost my infant. She expired in my arms in +convulsions, and my distress was indescribable. On the day of its +dissolution Mr. Sheridan called on me; the little sufferer was on my +lap, and I was watching it with agonising anxiety. Five months had then +elapsed since Mr. Sheridan was first introduced to me; and though, +during that period, I had seen many proofs of his exquisite sensibility, +I never had witnessed one which so strongly impressed my mind his +countenance on entering my apartment. Probably he has forgotten the +feeling of the moment, but its impression will by me be remembered +for ever. +</p> +<p> +I had not power to speak. All he uttered was, "Beautiful little +creature!" at the same time looking on my infant, and sighing with a +degree of sympathetic sorrow which penetrated my soul. Had I ever heard +such a sigh from a husband's bosom? Alas! I never knew the sweet, +soothing solace of wedded sympathy; I never was beloved by him whom +destiny allotted to be the legal ruler of my actions. I do not condemn +Mr. Robinson; I but too well know that we cannot command our affections. +I only lament that he did not observe some decency in his infidelities; +and that while he gratified his own caprice, he forgot how much he +exposed his wife to the most degrading mortifications. +</p> +<p> +The death of Sophia so deeply affected my spirits that I was rendered +totally incapable of appearing again that season. I therefore obtained +Mr. Sheridan's permission to visit Bath for the recovery of my repose. +From Bath I went to Bristol—to Bristol! Why does my pen seem suddenly +arrested while I write the word? I know not why, but an undefinable +melancholy always follows the idea of my native birthplace. I instantly +behold the Gothic structure, the lonely cloisters, the lofty aisles, of +the antique minster,—for, within a few short paces of its wall, this +breast, which has never known one year of happiness, first palpitated on +inhaling the air of this bad world! Is it within its consecrated +precincts that this heart shall shortly moulder? Heaven only knows, and +to its will I bow implicitly. +</p> +<p> +I transcribe this passage on the 29th of March, 1800. I feel my health +decaying, my spirit broken. I look back without regret that so many of +my days are numbered; and, were it in my power to choose, I would not +wish to measure them again. But whither am I wandering? I will resume my +melancholy story. +</p> +<p> +Still restless, still perplexed with painful solicitudes, I returned to +London. I had not then, by many months, completed my nineteenth year. On +my arrival I took lodgings in Leicester Square. Mr. Sheridan came to see +me on my return to town, and communicated the melancholy fate of Mr. +Thomas Linley,[<a href="#note-28">28</a>] the late brother of Mrs. Sheridan,—he was +unfortunately drowned at the Duke of Ancaster's. In a few days after, +Mr. Sheridan again made me a visit, with a proposal for an engagement to +play during the summer at Mr. Colman's theatre in the Haymarket.[<a href="#note-29">29</a>] I +had refused several offers from provincial managers, and felt an almost +insurmountable aversion to the idea of strolling. Mr. Sheridan +nevertheless strongly recommended me to the acceptance of Mr. Colman's +offer; and I at last agreed to it, upon condition that the characters I +should be expected to perform were selected and limited. To this Mr. +Colman readily consented. +</p> +<p> +The first part which was placed in the list was Nancy Lovel, in the +comedy of "The Suicide." I received the written character, and waited +the rehearsal; but my astonishment was infinite when I saw the name of +Miss Farren[<a href="#note-30">30</a>] announced in the bills. I wrote a letter to Mr. Colman, +requesting an explanation. He replied that he had promised the part to +Miss Farren, who had then performed one or two seasons at the Haymarket +Theatre. I felt myself insulted. I insisted on Mr. Colman fulfilling his +engagement, or on giving me liberty to quit London: the latter he +refused. I demanded to perform the part of Nancy Lovel. Mr. Colman was +too partial to Miss Farren to hazard offending her. I refused to play +till I had this first character, as by agreement, restored to me, and +the summer passed without my once performing, though my salary was paid +weekly and regularly. +</p> +<p> +During the following winter I performed, with increasing approbation, +the following characters: +</p> +<p> +Ophelia, in "Hamlet." +</p> +<p> +Viola, in "Twelfth Night." +</p> +<p> +Jacintha, in "The Suspicious Husband." +</p> +<p> +Fidelia, in "The Plain Dealer." +</p> +<p> +Rosalind, in "As You Like It." +</p> +<p> +Oriana, in "The Inconstant." +</p> +<p> +Octavia, in "All for Love." +</p> +<p> +Perdita, in "The Winter's Tale." +</p> +<p> +Palmira, in "Mahomet." +</p> +<p> +Cordelia, in "King Lear." +</p> +<p> +Alinda, in "The Law of Lombardy." +</p> +<p> +The Irish Widow. +</p> +<p> +Araminta, in "The Old Bachelor." +</p> +<p> +Sir Harry Revel, in "The Miniature Picture." +</p> +<p> +Emily, in "The Runaway." +</p> +<p> +Miss Richley, in "The Discovery." +</p> +<p> +Statira, in "Alexander the Great." +</p> +<p> +Juliet, in "Romeo and Juliet." +</p> +<p> +Amanda, in "The Trip to Scarborough." +</p> +<p> +Lady Anne, in "Richard the Third." +</p> +<p> +Imogen, in "Cymbeline." +</p> +<p> +Lady Macbeth,[<a href="#note-31">31</a>] in "Macbeth," etc. +</p> +<p> +It was now that I began to know the perils attendant on a dramatic life. +It was at this period that the most alluring temptations were held out +to alienate me from the paths of domestic quiet,—domestic happiness I +cannot say, for it never was my destiny to know it. But I had still the +consolation of an unsullied name. I had the highest female patronage, a +circle of the most respectable and partial friends. +</p> +<p> +During this period I was daily visited by my best of mothers. My +youngest brother had, the preceding winter, departed for Leghorn, where +my eldest had been many years established as a merchant of the first +respectability. +</p> +<p> +Were I to mention the names of those who held forth the temptations of +fortune at this moment of public peril, I might create some reproaches +in many families of the fashionable world. Among others who offered most +liberally to purchase my indiscretion was the late Duke of Rutland; a +settlement of six hundred pounds per annum was proposed as the means of +estranging me entirely from my husband. I refused the offer. I wished to +remain, in the eyes of the public, deserving of its patronage. I shall +not enter into a minute detail of temptations which assailed my +fortitude. +</p> +<p> +The flattering and zealous attentions which Mr. Sheridan evinced were +strikingly contrasting with the marked and increasing neglect of my +husband. I now found that he supported two women, in one house, in +Maiden Lane, Covent Garden. The one was a figure-dancer in Drury Lane +Theatre; the other, a woman of professed libertinism. With these he +passed all his hours that he could steal from me; and I found that my +salary was at times inadequate to the expenses which were incurred by an +enlarged circle of new acquaintance, which Mr. Robinson had formed since +my appearance in the dramatic scene. Added to this, the bond creditors +became so clamorous, that the whole of my benefits were appropriated to +their demands; and on the second year after my appearance at Drury Lane +Theatre, Mr. Robinson once more persuaded me to make a visit at +Tregunter. +</p> +<p> +I was now received with more civility, and more warmly welcomed, than I +had been on any former arrival. Though the assumed sanctity of Miss +Robinson's manners condemned a dramatic life, the labour was deemed +profitable, and the supposed immorality was consequently tolerated! +However repugnant to my feelings this visit was, still I hoped that it +would promote my husband's interest, and confirm his reconciliation to +his father; I therefore resolved on undertaking it. I now felt that I +could support myself honourably; and the consciousness of independence +is the only true felicity in this world of humiliations. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Harris was now established in Tregunter House, and several parties +were formed, both at home and abroad, for my amusement. I was consulted +as the very oracle of fashions; I was gazed at and examined with the +most inquisitive curiosity. Mrs. Robinson, the promising young actress, +was a very different personage from Mrs. Robinson who had been +overwhelmed with sorrows, and came to ask an asylum under the roof of +vulgar ostentation. I remained only a fortnight in Wales, and then +returned to London, to prepare for the opening of the theatre. +</p> +<p> +We stopped at Bath on our way to town, where Mr. Robinson met with Mr. +George Brereton, with whom, at Newmarket, he had some time before become +acquainted. Mr. Brereton was a man of fortune, and married to his +beautiful cousin, the daughter of Major Brereton, then master of the +ceremonies at Bath. At a former period Mr. Robinson had owed a sum of +money to Mr. George Brereton, for which he had given a promissory note. +On our arrival at Bath we received a visit from this creditor, who +assured Mr. Robinson that he was in no haste for the payment of his +note, and at the same time very earnestly pressed us to remain a few +days in that fashionable city. We were in no hurry to return to London, +having still more than three weeks' holidays. We resided at the "Three +Tuns," one of the best inns, and Mr. Brereton was on all occasions +particularly attentive. +</p> +<p> +The motive of this assiduity was at length revealed to me, by a violent +and fervent declaration of love, which astonished and perplexed me. I +knew that Mr. Brereton was of a most impetuous temper; that he had +fought many duels; that he was capable of any outrage; and that he had +my husband completely in his power. Every advance which he had the +temerity to make was by me rejected with indignation. I had not +resolution to inform Mr. Robinson of his danger, and I thought that the +only chance of escaping it was to set out immediately for Bristol, where +I wished to pass a few days, previous to my return to the metropolis. +</p> +<p> +On the following morning, as we were quitting the inn in Temple Street, +to visit Clifton, Mr. Robinson was arrested at the suit of Mr. George +Brereton, who waited himself in an upper room in order to see the writ +executed. I forget the exact sum for which Mr. Robinson had given his +promissory note, but I well remember that it was in magnitude beyond his +power to pay. Our consternation was indescribable. +</p> +<p> +In a few minutes after, I was informed that a lady wished to speak with +me. Concluding that it was some old acquaintance, and happy to feel that +in this perplexing dilemma I had still a friend to speak to, I followed +the waiter into another room. Mr. Robinson was detained by the +sheriff's officer. +</p> +<p> +On entering the apartment, I beheld Mr. Brereton. +</p> +<p> +"Well, madam," said he, with a sarcastic smile, "you have involved your +husband in a pretty embarrassment! Had you not been severe toward me, +not only this paltry debt would have been cancelled, but any sum that I +could command would have been at his service. He has now either to pay +me, to fight me, or to go to a prison; and all because you treat me with +such unexampled rigour." +</p> +<p> +I entreated him to reflect before he drove me to distraction. +</p> +<p> +"I have reflected," said he, "and I find that you possess the power to +do with me what you will. Promise to return to Bath—to behave more +kindly—and I will this moment discharge your husband." +</p> +<p> +I burst into tears. +</p> +<p> +"You cannot be so inhuman as to propose such terms!" said I. +</p> +<p> +"The inhumanity is on your side," answered Mr. Brereton. "But I have no +time to lose; I must return to Bath; my wife is dangerously ill; and I +do not wish to have my name exposed in a business of this nature." +</p> +<p> +"Then for Heaven's sake release my husband!" said I. Mr. Brereton smiled +as he rang the bell, and ordered the waiter to look for his carriage. I +now lost all command of myself, and, with the most severe invective, +condemned the infamy of his conduct. "I will return to Bath," said I; +"but it shall be to expose your dishonourable, your barbarous +machinations. I will inform that lovely wife how treacherously you have +acted. I will proclaim to the world that the common arts of seduction +are not sufficiently depraved for the mind of a libertine and a +gamester." +</p> +<p> +I uttered these words in so loud a tone of voice that he changed colour, +and desired me to be discreet and patient. +</p> +<p> +"Never, while you insult me, and hold my husband in your power," said I. +"You have carried outrage almost to its fullest extent; you have +awakened all the pride and all the resentment of my soul, and I will +proceed as I think proper." +</p> +<p> +He now endeavoured to soothe me. He assured me that he was actuated by a +sincere regard for me; and that, knowing how little my husband valued +me, he thought it would be an act of kindness to estrange me from him. +"His neglect of you will justify any step you may take," added he; "and +it is a matter of universal astonishment that you, who upon other +occasions can act with such becoming spirit, should tamely continue to +bear such infidelities from a husband." I shuddered; for this plea had, +in many instances, been urged as an excuse for libertine advances; and +the indifference with which I was treated was, in the theatre, and in +all my circle of friends, a subject of conversation. +</p> +<p> +Distressed beyond the power of utterance at this new humiliation, I +paced the room with agonising inquietude. +</p> +<p> +"How little does such a husband deserve such a wife!" continued Mr. +Brereton; "how tasteless must he be, to leave such a woman for the very +lowest and most degraded of the sex! Quit him, and fly with me. I am +ready to make any sacrifice you demand. Shall I propose to Mr. Robinson +to let you go? Shall I offer him his liberty on condition that he allows +you to separate yourself from him? By his conduct he proves that he does +not love you; why then labour to support him?" +</p> +<p> +I was almost frantic. +</p> +<p> +"Here, madam," continued Mr. Brereton, after pausing four or five +minutes, "here is your husband's release." So saying, he threw a written +paper on the table. "Now," added he, "I rely on your generosity." +</p> +<p> +I trembled, and was incapable of speaking. Mr. Brereton conjured me to +compose my spirits, and to conceal my distress from the people of the +inn. "I will return to Bath," said he. "I shall there expect to see +you." He now quitted the room. I saw him get into his chaise and drive +from the inn door. I then hastened to my husband with the discharge; and +all expenses of the arrest being shortly after settled, we set out +for Bath. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Robinson scarcely inquired what had passed; but I assured him that +my persuasions had produced so sudden a change in Mr. Brereton's +conduct. I said that I hoped he would never again place his freedom in +the hands of a gamester, or his wife's repose in the power of a +libertine. He seemed insensible of the peril attending both the one and +the other. +</p> +<p> +Expecting letters by the post, we waited the following day, which was +Sunday, at Bath; though, in order to avoid Mr. Brereton, we removed to +the White Lion Inn. But what was my astonishment, in the afternoon, +when, standing at the window, I saw Mr. George Brereton walking on the +opposite side of the way, with his wife and her no less lovely sister! I +now found that the story of her dangerous illness was untrue, and I +flattered myself that I was not seen before I retired from the window. +</p> +<p> +We now sat down to dinner, and in a few minutes Mr. George Brereton was +announced by the waiter. He coldly bowed to me, and instantly made a +thousand apologies to Mr. Robinson; declared that he had paid the note +away; that he was menaced for the money; and that he came to Bristol, +though too late, to prevent the arrest which had happened. Mr. Robinson +skeptically replied that it was now of little importance; and Mr. +Brereton took his leave, saying that he should have the honour of seeing +us again in the evening. We did not wait for his company, but +immediately after dinner set out for London. +</p> +<p> +On my arrival in town I saw Mr. Sheridan, whose manner had lost nothing +of its interesting attention. He continued to visit me very frequently, +and always gave me the most friendly counsel. He knew that I was not +properly protected by Mr. Robinson, but he was too generous to build his +gratification on the detraction of another. The happiest moments I then +knew were passed in the society of this distinguished being. He saw me +ill-bestowed upon a man who neither loved nor valued me; he lamented my +destiny, but with such delicate propriety that it consoled while it +revealed to me the unhappiness of my situation. On my return to town the +Duke of Rutland renewed his solicitations. I also received the most +unbounded professions of esteem and admiration from several other +persons. Among the list, I was addressed with proposals of libertine +nature by a royal duke, a lofty marquis, and a city merchant of +considerable fortune, conveyed through the medium of milliners, +mantua-makers, etc. Just at this period my eldest brother visited +England; but such was his unconquerable aversion to my profession as an +actress, that he only once, during a residence of some months in London, +attempted to see me perform. He then only attempted it; for, on my +advancing on the boards, he started from his seat in the stage-box, and +instantly quitted the theatre. My dear mother had no less a dislike to +the pursuit; she never beheld me on the stage but with a painful regret. +Fortunately, my father remained some years out of England, so that he +never saw me in my professional character. +</p> +<p> +My popularity increasing every night that I appeared, my prospects, both +of fame and affluence, began to brighten. We now hired the house which +is situated between the Hummums and the Bedford Arms, in Covent Garden; +it had been built (I believe) by Doctor Fisher, who married the widow of +the celebrated actor Powel; but Mr. Robinson took the premises of Mrs. +Mattocks, of Covent Garden Theatre. The house was particularly +convenient in every respect; but, above all, on account of its vicinity +to Drury Lane. Here I hoped to enjoy, at least, some cheerful days, as I +found that my circle of friends increased almost hourly. +</p> +<p> +One of those who paid me most attention was Sir John Lade. The +good-natured baronet, who was then just of age, was our constant +visitor, and cards contributed to beguile those evenings that were not +devoted to dramatic labour. Mr. Robinson played more deeply than was +discreet, but he was, at the end of a few weeks, a very +considerable winner. +</p> +<p> +In proportion as play obtained its influence over my husband's mind, his +small portion of remaining regard for me visibly decayed. We now had +horses, a phaeton and ponies; and my fashions in dress were followed +with flattering avidity. My house was thronged with visitors, and my +morning levées were crowded so that I could scarcely find a quiet hour +for study. My brother by this time had returned to Italy. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Sheridan was still my most esteemed of friends. He advised me with +the gentlest anxiety, and he warned me of the danger which expense would +produce, and which might interrupt the rising progress of my dramatic +reputation. He saw the trophies which flattery strewed in my way; and he +lamented that I was on every side surrounded with temptations. There was +a something beautifully sympathetic in every word he uttered; his +admonitions seemed as if dictated by a prescient power, which told him +that I was destined to be deceived! +</p> +<p> +Situated as I was at this time, the effort was difficult to avoid the +society of Mr. Sheridan. He was manager of the theatre. I could not +avoid seeing and conversing with him at rehearsals and behind the +scenes, and his conversation was always such as to fascinate and charm +me. The brilliant reputation which he had justly acquired for superior +talents, and the fame which was completed by his celebrated "School for +Scandal," had now rendered him so admired, that all ranks of people +courted his society. The greenroom was frequented by nobility and men of +genius; among these were Mr. Fox[<a href="#note-32">32</a>] and the Earl of Derby. The stage +was now enlightened by the very best critics, and embellished by the +very highest talents; and it is not a little remarkable that the drama +was uncommonly productive, the theatre more than usually attended, +during that season when the principal dramatic characters were performed +by women under the age of twenty. Among these were Miss Farren (now Lady +Derby), Miss Walpole (now Mrs. Atkins), Miss P. Hopkins (now Mrs. John +Kemble), and myself. +</p> +<p> +I had then been married more than four years; my daughter Maria +Elizabeth was nearly three years old. I had been then seen and known at +all public places from the age of fifteen; yet I knew as little of the +world's deceptions as though I had been educated in the deserts of +Siberia. I believed every woman friendly, every man sincere, till I +discovered proofs that their characters were deceptive. +</p> +<p> +I had now performed two seasons, in tragedy and comedy, with Miss Farren +and the late Mr. Henderson. My first appearance in Palmira (in +"Mahomet") was with the Zaphna of Mr. J. Bannister, the preceding year; +and though the extraordinary comic powers of this excellent actor and +amiable man have established his reputation as a comedian, his first +essay in tragedy was considered as a night of the most distinguished +promise. The Duchess of Devonshire still honoured me with her patronage +and friendship, and I also possessed the esteem of several respectable +and distinguished females. +</p> +<p> +The play of "The Winter's Tale" was this season commanded by their +Majesties.[<a href="#note-33">33</a>] I never had performed before the royal family; and the +first character in which I was destined to appear was that of Perdita. I +had frequently played the part, both with the Hermione of Mrs. Hartley +and of Miss Farren: but I felt a strange degree of alarm when I found my +name announced to perform it before the royal family.[<a href="#note-34">34</a>] +</p> +<p> +In the greenroom I was rallied on the occasion; and Mr. Smith,[<a href="#note-35">35</a>] whose +gentlemanly manners and enlightened conversation rendered him an +ornament to the profession, who performed the part of Leontes, +laughingly exclaimed, "By Jove, Mrs. Robinson, you will make a conquest +of the prince, for to-night you look handsomer than ever." I smiled at +the unmerited compliment, and little foresaw the vast variety of events +that would arise from that night's exhibition! +</p> +<p> +As I stood in the wing opposite the prince's box, waiting to go on the +stage, Mr. Ford, the manager's son, and now a respectable defender of +the laws, presented a friend who accompanied him; this friend was Lord +Viscount Malden, now Earl of Essex.[<a href="#note-36">36</a>] +</p> +<p> +We entered into conversation during a few minutes, the Prince of Wales +all the time observing us, and frequently speaking to Colonel (now +General) Lake, and to the Honourable Mr. Legge, brother to Lord +Lewisham, who was in waiting on his Royal Highness. I hurried through +the first scene, not without much embarrassment, owing to the fixed +attention with which the Prince of Wales honoured me. Indeed, some +flattering remarks which were made by his Royal Highness met my ear as I +stood near his box, and I was overwhelmed with confusion. +</p> +<p> +The prince's particular attention was observed by every one, and I was +again rallied at the end of the play. On the last curtsey, the royal +family condescendingly returned a bow to the performers; but just as the +curtain was falling my eyes met those of the Prince of Wales, and with a +look that I never shall forget, he gently inclined his head a second +time; I felt the compliment, and blushed my gratitude. +</p> +<p> +During the entertainment Lord Malden never ceased conversing with me. He +was young, pleasing, and perfectly accomplished. He remarked the +particular applause which the prince had bestowed on my performance; +said a thousand civil things; and detained me in conversation till the +evening's performance was concluded. +</p> +<p> +I was now going to my chair, which waited, when I met the royal family +crossing the stage. I was again honoured with a very marked and low bow +from the Prince of Wales. On my return home, I had a party to supper; +and the whole conversation centred in encomiums on the person, graces, +and amiable manners of the illustrious heir-apparent. +</p> +<p> +Within two or three days of this time, Lord Malden made me a morning +visit. Mr. Robinson was not at home, and I received him rather +awkwardly. But his lordship's embarrassment far exceeded mine. He +attempted to speak—paused, hesitated, apologised; I knew not why. He +hoped I would pardon him; that I would not mention something he had to +communicate; that I would consider the peculiar delicacy of his +situation, and then act as I thought proper. I could not comprehend his +meaning, and therefore requested that he would be explicit. +</p> +<p> +After some moments of evident rumination, he tremblingly drew a small +letter from his pocket. I took it, and knew not what to say. It was +addressed to Perdita. I smiled, I believe rather sarcastically, and +opened the <i>billet</I>. It contained only a few words, but those +expressive of more than common civility; they were signed Florizel.[<a href="#note-37">37</a>] +</p> +<p> +"Well, my lord, and what does this mean?" said I, half angry. +</p> +<p> +"Can you not guess the writer?" said Lord Malden. +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps yourself, my lord," cried I, gravely. +</p> +<p> +"Upon my honour, no," said the viscount. "I should not have dared so to +address you on so short an acquaintance." +</p> +<p> +I pressed him to tell me from whom the letter came. He again hesitated; +he seemed confused, and sorry that he had undertaken to deliver it. +</p> +<p> +"I hope that I shall not forfeit your good opinion," said he; "but—" +</p> +<p> +"But what, my lord?" +</p> +<p> +"I could not refuse—for the letter is from the Prince of Wales." +</p> +<p> +I was astonished; I confess that I was agitated; but I was also somewhat +skeptical as to the truth of Lord Malden's assertion. I returned a +formal and a doubtful answer, and his lordship shortly after took +his leave. +</p> +<p> +A thousand times did I read this short but expressive letter. Still I +did not implicitly believe that it was written by the prince; I rather +considered it as an experiment made by Lord Malden, either on my vanity +or propriety of conduct. On the next evening the viscount repeated his +visit. We had a card-party of six or seven, and the Prince of Wales was +again the subject of unbounded panegyric. Lord Malden spoke of his Royal +Highness's manners as the most polished and fascinating; of his temper +as the most engaging; and of his mind, the most replete with every +amiable sentiment. I heard these praises, and my heart beat with +conscious pride, while memory turned to the partial but delicately +respectful letter which I had received on the preceding morning. +</p> +<p> +The next day Lord Malden brought me a second letter. He assured me that +the prince was most unhappy lest I should be offended at his conduct, +and that he conjured me to go that night to the Oratorio, [<a href="#note-38">38</a>] where he +would by some signal convince me that he was the writer of the letters, +supposing I was still skeptical as to their authenticity. +</p> +<p> +I went to the Oratorio; and, on taking my seat in the balcony-box, the +prince almost instantaneously observed me. He held the printed bill +before his face, and drew his hand across his forehead, still fixing his +eyes on me. I was confused, and knew not what to do. My husband was with +me, and I was fearful of his observing what passed. Still the prince +continued to make signs, such as moving his hand on the edge of the box +as if writing, then speaking to the Duke of York[<a href="#note-39">39</a>] (then Bishop of +Osnaburg), who also looked toward me with particular attention. +</p> +<p> +I now observed one of the gentlemen in waiting bring the prince a glass +of water; before he raised it to his lips he looked at me. So marked was +his Royal Highness's conduct that many of the audience observed it; +several persons in the pit directed their gaze at the place where I sat; +and, on the following day, one of the diurnal prints observed that there +was one passage in Dryden's Ode which seemed particularly interesting to +the Prince of Wales, who— +</p> +<pre> + "Gazed on the fair + Who caused his care, + And sigh'd, and look'd, and sigh'd again."[<a href="#note-40">40</a>] +</pre> +<p> +However flattering it might have been to female vanity to know that the +most admired and most accomplished prince in Europe was devotedly +attached to me; however dangerous to the heart such idolatry as his +Royal Highness, during many months, professed in almost daily letters, +which were conveyed to me by Lord Malden, still I declined any interview +with his Royal Highness. I was not insensible to all his powers of +attraction; I thought him one of the most amiable of men. There was a +beautiful ingenuousness in his language, a warm and enthusiastic +adoration, expressed in every letter, which interested and charmed me. +During the whole spring, till the theatre closed, this correspondence +continued, every day giving me some new assurance of inviolable +affection. +</p> +<p> +After we had corresponded some months without ever speaking to each +other (for I still declined meeting his Royal Highness, from a dread of +the <i>éclat</i> which such a connection would produce, and the fear of +injuring him in the opinion of his royal relatives), I received, through +the hands of Lord Malden, the prince's portrait in miniature, painted by +the late Mr. Meyer. This picture is now in my possession. Within the +case was a small heart cut in paper, which I also have; on one side was +written, <i>"Je ne change qu'en mourant;"</i> on the other, "Unalterable to +my Perdita through life." +</p> +<p> +During many months of confidential correspondence, I always offered his +Royal Highness the best advice in my power; I disclaimed every sordid +and interested thought; I recommended him to be patient till he should +become his own master; to wait till he knew more of my mind and manners, +before he engaged in a public attachment to me; and, above all, to do +nothing that might incur the displeasure of his Royal Highness's family. +I entreated him to recollect that he was young, and led on by the +impetuosity of passion; that should I consent to quit my profession and +my husband, I should be thrown entirely on his mercy. I strongly +pictured the temptations to which beauty would expose him; the many arts +that would be practised to undermine me in his affections; the public +abuse which calumny and envy would heap upon me; and the misery I should +suffer, if, after I had given him every proof of confidence, he should +change in his sentiments toward me. To all this I received repeated +assurances of inviolable affection; and I most firmly believe that his +Royal Highness meant what he professed—indeed, his soul was too +ingenuous, his mind too liberal, and his heart too susceptible, to +deceive premeditatedly, or to harbour even for a moment the idea of +deliberate deception. +</p> +<p> +At every interview with Lord Maiden I perceived that he regretted the +task he had undertaken; but he assured me that the prince was almost +frantic whenever he suggested a wish to decline interfering. Once I +remember his lordship's telling me that the late Duke of Cumberland had +made him a visit early in the morning, at his house in Clarges Street, +informing him that the prince was most wretched on my account, and +imploring him to continue his services only a short time longer. The +prince's establishment was then in agitation; at this period his Royal +Highness still resided in Buckingham House. +</p> +<p> +A proposal was now made that I should meet his Royal Highness at his +apartments, in the disguise of male attire. I was accustomed to perform +in that dress, and the prince had seen me, I believe, in the character +of the Irish Widow. To this plan I decidedly objected. The indelicacy of +such a step, as well as the danger of detection, made me shrink from the +proposal. My refusal threw his Royal Highness into the most distressing +agitation, as was expressed by the letter which I received on the +following morning. Lord Malden again lamented that he had engaged +himself in the intercourse, and declared that he had himself conceived +so violent a passion for me that he was the most miserable and +unfortunate of mortals. +</p> +<p> +During this period, though Mr. Robinson was a stranger to my epistolary +intercourse with the prince, his conduct was entirely neglectful. He was +perfectly careless respecting my fame and my repose; passed his leisure +hours with the most abandoned women, and even my own servants complained +of his illicit advances. I remember one, who was plain even to ugliness; +she was short, ill-made, squalid, and dirty; once, on my return from a +rehearsal, I found that this woman was locked with my husband in my +chamber. I also knew that Mr. Robinson continued his connection with a +female who lodged in Maiden Lane, and who was only one of the few that +proved his domestic apostacy. +</p> +<p> +His indifference naturally produced an alienation of esteem on my side, +and the increasing adoration of the most enchanting of mortals hourly +reconciled my mind to the idea of a separation. The unbounded assurances +of lasting affection which I received from his Royal Highness in many +scores of the most eloquent letters, the contempt which I experienced +from my husband, and the perpetual labour which I underwent for his +support, at length began to weary my fortitude. Still I was reluctant to +become the theme of public animadversion, and still I remonstrated with +my husband on the unkindness of his conduct. +</p> +<hr> +<p> +<i>[The narrative of Mrs. Robinson closes here.]</i> +</p> + +<hr> + +<a name="chapter2"></a> +<h2>CONTINUATION</h2> + +<center> +BY A FRIEND +</center> +<p> +Among those persons who have at various periods attracted the attention +of the public, there are few whose virtues have been so little known, or +whose characters have been so unfairly estimated, as the subject of the +preceding memoir. To compress within narrow limits the numerous +circumstances by which the later years of Mrs. Robinson's life were +chequered, will be a task of no little difficulty. The earlier periods +of her existence, rendered more interesting as narrated by her own pen, +have doubtlessly been justly appreciated by the reflecting and candid +reader, whose sympathy they could not fail to awaken. That she lived not +to conclude the history of a life scarcely less eventful than +unfortunate, cannot but afford a subject of sincere regret. +</p> +<p> +The conflicts which shook the mind, and the passions which succeeded to +each other in the breast of Mrs. Robinson, at the period when her +narrative closes, a crisis perhaps the most important in her life, may +be more easily conceived than described. A laborious though captivating +profession, the profits of which were unequal to the expenses of her +establishment, and the assiduities of her illustrious lover, to whom she +naturally looked for protection, combined to divide her attention and +bewilder her inexperienced mind. The partiality of her royal admirer had +begun to excite observation, to awaken curiosity, and to provoke the +malignant passions which, under an affected concern for decorum, assumed +the guise of virtue. The daily prints teemed with hints of the favour of +Mrs. Robinson with "one whose manners were resistless, and whose smile +was victory." These circumstances, added to the constant devoirs of Lord +Malden, whose attentions were as little understood as maliciously +interpreted, conspired to distract a young creature, whose exposed +situation, whose wavering and unformed character, rendered her but too +obnoxious to a thousand errors and perils. +</p> +<p> +To terminate her correspondence with the prince appeared the most +painful remedy that could be adopted by a heart fascinated with his +accomplishments, and soothed by his professions of inviolable +attachment. She was aware that, in the eye of the world, the reputation +of the wife is supposed unsullied, while the husband, enduring passively +his dishonour, gives to her the sanction of his protection. The circles +of fashion afforded more than one instance of this obliging acquiescence +in matrimonial turpitude. Could Mrs. Robinson have reconciled it to her +own feelings to remain under the roof of her husband, whose protection +she had forfeited, and to add insult to infidelity, the attentions of +her illustrious admirer might have given to her popularity an additional +<i>éclat</i>. Neither might her husband have suffered in his worldly +prospects, from being to the motives of his royal visitor a little +complaisantly blind. But her ingenuous nature would not permit her to +render the man for whom she had once felt an affection an object of +ridicule and contempt. She determined, therefore, to brave the world, +and, for a support against its censures, to rely on the protection and +friendship of him to whom she sacrificed its respect. +</p> +<p> +The managers of Drury Lane Theatre, suspecting that Mrs. Robinson +purposed, at the conclusion of the season, to withdraw from the stage, +omitted no means that might tend to induce her to renew her engagements. +With this view, they offered a considerable advance to her salary, while +to their solicitations she returned undecisive answers. Hourly rising in +a profession to which she was enthusiastically attached, the public +plaudits, which her appearance never failed to excite, were too +gratifying to be relinquished without regret. +</p> +<p> +During this irresolution she was persecuted by numerous anonymous +letters, which she continued to treat with derision or contempt. The +correspondence between Mrs. Robinson and the prince had hitherto been +merely epistolary. This intercourse had lasted several months, Mrs. +Robinson not having acquired sufficient courage to venture a personal +interview, and bid defiance to the reproaches of the world. +</p> +<p> +At length, after many alternations of feeling, an interview with her +royal lover was consented to by Mrs. Robinson, and proposed, by the +management of Lord Malden, to take place at his lordship's residence in +Dean Street, Mayfair. But the restricted situation of the prince, +controlled by a rigid tutor, rendered this project of difficult +execution. A visit to Buckingham House was then mentioned; to which Mrs. +Robinson positively objected, as a rash attempt, abounding in peril to +her august admirer. Lord Maiden being again consulted, it was determined +that the prince should meet Mrs. Robinson for a few moments at Kew,[<a href="#note-41">41</a>] +on the banks of the Thames, opposite to the old palace, then the summer +residence of the elder princes. For an account of this incident, an +extract from a letter of Mrs. Robinson, written some years afterward, to +a valued and since deceased friend, who during the period of these +events resided in America, may not be unacceptable to the reader. The +date of this letter is in 1783. +</p> + +<!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + +<a name="image-3"><!-- Image 3 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image3.jpg" height="796" width="513" +alt="The First Meeting of Mrs. Robinson and the Prince of Wales Original Etching by Adrien Marcel"><br> +The First Meeting of Mrs. Robinson and the Prince of Wales Original Etching by Adrien Marcel +</center> + +<p> +"At length an evening was fixed for this long-dreaded interview. Lord +Maiden and myself dined at the inn on the island between Kew and +Brentford. We waited the signal for crossing the river in a boat which +had been engaged for the purpose. Heaven can witness how many conflicts +my agitated heart endured at this most important moment! I admired the +prince; I felt grateful for his affection. He was the most engaging of +created beings. I had corresponded with him during many months, and his +eloquent letters, the exquisite sensibility which breathed through every +line, his ardent professions of adoration, had combined to shake my +feeble resolution. The handkerchief was waved on the opposite shore; but +the signal was, by the dusk of the evening, rendered almost +imperceptible. Lord Maiden took my hand, I stepped into the boat, and in +a few minutes we landed before the iron gates of old Kew Palace. The +interview was but of a moment. The Prince of Wales and the Duke of York +(then Bishop of Osnaburg) were walking down the avenue. They hastened to +meet us. A few words, and those scarcely articulate, were uttered by the +prince, when a noise of people approaching from the palace startled us. +The moon was now rising; and the idea of being overheard, or of his +Royal Highness being seen out at so unusual an hour, terrified the whole +group. After a few more words of the most affectionate nature uttered by +the prince, we parted, and Lord Maiden and myself returned to the +island. The prince never quitted the avenue, nor the presence of the +Duke of York, during the whole of this short meeting. Alas! my friend, +if my mind was before influenced by esteem, it was now awakened to the, +most enthusiastic admiration. The rank of the prince no longer chilled +into awe that being who now considered him as the lover and the friend. +The graces of his person, the irresistible sweetness of his smile, the +tenderness of his melodious yet manly voice, will be remembered by me +till every vision of this changing scene shall be forgotten. +</p> +<p> +"Many and frequent were the interviews which afterward took place at +this romantic spot; our walks sometimes continued till past midnight; +the Duke of York and Lord Malden were always of the party; our +conversation was composed of general topics. The prince had from his +infancy been wholly secluded, and naturally took much pleasure in +conversing about the busy world, its manners and pursuits, characters +and scenery. Nothing could be more delightful or more rational than our +midnight perambulations. I always wore a dark coloured habit, the rest +of our party generally wrapped themselves in greatcoats to disguise +them, excepting the Duke of York, who almost universally alarmed us by +the display of a buff coat, the most conspicuous colour he could have +selected for an adventure of this nature. The polished and fascinating +ingenuousness of his Royal Highness's manners contributed not a little +to enliven our promenades. He sung with exquisite taste, and the tones +of his voice breaking on the silence of the night have often appeared to +my entranced senses like more than mortal melody. Often have I lamented +the distance which destiny had placed between us. How would my soul have +idolised such a husband! Alas! how often, in the ardent enthusiasm of my +soul, have I formed the wish that that being were mine alone! to whom +partial millions were to look up for protection. +</p> +<p> +"The Duke of York was now on the eve of quitting the country for +Hanover; the prince was also on the point of receiving his first +establishment; and the apprehension that his attachment to a married +woman might injure his Royal Highness in the opinion of the world +rendered the caution which we invariably observed of the utmost +importance. A considerable time elapsed in these delightful scenes of +visionary happiness. The prince's attachment seemed to increase daily, +and I considered myself as the most blest of human beings. During some +time we had enjoyed our meetings in the neighbourhood of Kew, and I note +only looked forward to the adjusting of his Royal Highness's +establishment for the public avowal of our mutual attachment. +</p> +<p> +"I had relinquished my profession. The last night of my appearance on +the stage, I represented the character of Sir Harry Revel, in the comedy +of 'The Miniature Picture,' written by Lady Craven,[<a href="#note-42">42</a>] and 'The Irish +Widow.' On entering the greenroom, I informed Mr. Moody, who played in +the farce, that I should appear no more after that night; and, +endeavouring to smile while I sung, I repeated,—</p> +<pre> + 'Oh joy to you all in full measure, + So wishes and prays Widow Brady!' +</pre> +<p> +which were the last lines of my song in 'The Irish Widow.' This effort +to conceal the emotion I felt on quitting a profession I +enthusiastically loved was of short duration, and I burst into tears on +my appearance. My regret at recollecting that I was treading for the +last time the boards where I had so often received the must gratifying +testimonies of public approbation; where mental exertion had been +emboldened by private worth; that I was flying from a happy certainty, +perhaps to pursue the phantom disappointment, nearly overwhelmed my +faculties, and for some time deprived me of the power of articulation. +Fortunately, the person on the stage with me had to begin the scene, +which allowed me time to collect myself. I went, however, mechanically +dull through the business of the evening, and, notwithstanding the +cheering expressions and applause of the audience, I was several times +near fainting. +</p> +<p> +"The daily prints now indulged the malice of my enemies by the most +scandalous paragraphs respecting the Prince of Wales and myself. I found +it was now too late to stop the hourly augmenting torrent of abuse that +was poured upon me from all quarters. Whenever I appeared in public, I +was overwhelmed by the gazing of the multitude. I was frequently obliged +to quit Ranelagh, owing to the crowd which staring curiosity had +assembled around my box; and, even in the streets of the metropolis, I +scarcely ventured to enter a shop without experiencing the greatest +inconvenience. Many hours have I waited till the crowd dispersed which +surrounded my carriage, in expectation of my quitting the shop. I cannot +suppress a smile at the absurdity of such proceeding, when I remember +that, during nearly three seasons, I was almost every night upon the +stage, and that I had then been near five years with Mr. Robinson at +every fashionable place of entertainment. You, my dear sir, in your +quiet haunts of transatlantic simplicity, will find some difficulty in +reconciling these things to your mind—these unaccountable instances of +national absurdity. Yet, so it is. I am well assured that, were a being +possessed of more than human endowments to visit this country, it would +experience indifference, if not total neglect, while a less worthy +mortal might be worshipped as the idol of its day, if whispered into +notoriety by the comments of the multitude. But, thank Heaven! my heart +was not formed in the mould of callous effrontery. I shuddered at the +gulf before me, and felt small gratification in the knowledge of having +taken a step, which many who condemned would have been no less willing +to imitate had they been placed in the same situation. +</p> +<p> +"Previous to my first interview with his Royal Highness, in one of his +letters I was astonished to find a bond of the most solemn and binding +nature containing a promise of the sum of twenty thousand pounds, to be +paid at the period of his Royal Highness's coming of age. +</p> +<p> +"This paper was signed by the prince, and sealed with the royal arms. It +was expressed in terms so liberal, so voluntary, so marked by true +affection, that I had scarcely power to read it. My tears, excited by +the most agonising conflicts, obscured the letters, and nearly blotted +out those sentiments which will be impressed upon my mind till the +latest period of my existence. Still, I felt shocked and mortified at +the indelicate idea of entering into any pecuniary engagements with a +prince, on whose establishment I relied for the enjoyment of all that +would render life desirable. I was surprised at receiving it; the idea +of interest had never entered my mind. Secure in the possession of his +heart, I had in that delightful certainty counted all my future +treasure. I had refused many splendid gifts which his Royal Highness had +proposed ordering for me at Grey's and other jewellers. The prince +presented to me a few trifling ornaments, in the whole their value not +exceeding one hundred guineas. Even these, on our separation, I returned +to his Royal Highness through the hands of General Lake. +</p> +<p> +"The period now approached that was to destroy all the fairy visions +which had filled my mind with dreams of happiness. At the moment when +everything was preparing for his Royal Highness's establishment, when I +looked impatiently for the arrival of that day in which I might behold +my adored friend gracefully receiving the acclamations of his future +subjects, when I might enjoy the public protection of that being for +whom I gave up all, I received a letter from his Royal Highness, a cold +and unkind letter—briefly informing me that 'we must meet no more!' +</p> +<p> +"And now, my friend, suffer me to call God to witness, that I was +unconscious why this decision had taken place in his Royal Highness's +mind. Only two days previous to this letter being written I had seen the +prince at Kew, and his affection appeared to be boundless as it was +undiminished. +</p> +<p> +"Amazed, afflicted, beyond the power of utterance, I wrote immediately +to his Royal Highness, requiring an explanation. He remained silent. +Again I wrote, but received no elucidation of this most cruel and +extraordinary mystery. The prince was then at Windsor. I set out in a +small pony phaeton, wretched, and unaccompanied by any one except my +postilion (a child of nine years of age). It was near dark when we +quitted Hyde Park Corner. On my arrival at Hounslow the innkeeper +informed me that every carriage which had passed the heath for the last +ten nights had been attacked and rifled. I confess the idea of personal +danger had no terrors for my mind in the state it then was, and the +possibility of annihilation, divested of the crime of suicide, +encouraged rather than diminished my determination of proceeding. We had +scarcely reached the middle of the heath when my horses were startled by +the sudden appearance of a man rushing from the side of the road. The +boy, on perceiving him, instantly spurred his pony, and, by a sudden +bound of our light vehicle, the ruffian missed his grasp at the front +rein. We now proceeded at full speed, while the footpad ran endeavouring +to overtake us. At length, my horses fortunately outrunning the +perseverance of the assailant, we reached the first 'Magpie,' a small +inn on the heath, in safety. The alarm which, in spite of my resolution, +this adventure had created, was augmented on my recollecting, for the +first time, that I had then in my black stock a brilliant stud of very +considerable value, which could only have been possessed by the robber +by strangling the wearer. +</p> +<p> +"If my heart palpitated with joy at my escape from assassination, a +circumstance soon after occurred that did not tend to quiet my emotion. +This was the appearance of Mr. H. Meynell and Mrs. A——. My foreboding +soul instantly beheld a rival, and, with jealous eagerness, interpreted +the hitherto inexplicable conduct of the prince from his having +frequently expressed his wish to know that lady. +</p> +<p> +"On my arrival the prince would not see me. My agonies were now +undescribable. I consulted with Lord Malden and the Duke of Dorset, +whose honourable mind and truly disinterested friendship had on many +occasions been exemplified toward me. They were both at a loss to divine +any cause of this sudden change in the prince's feelings. The Prince of +Wales had hitherto assiduously sought opportunities to distinguish me +more publicly than was prudent in his Royal Highness's situation. This +was in the month of August. On the 4th of the preceding June I went, by +his desire, into the chamberlain's box at the birthnight ball; the +distressing observation of the circle was drawn toward the part of the +box in which I sat by the marked and injudicious attentions of his Royal +Highness. I had not been arrived many minutes before I witnessed a +singular species of fashionable coquetry. Previous to his Highness's +beginning his minuet, I perceived a woman of high rank select from the +bouquet which she wore two rosebuds, which she gave to the prince, as he +afterward informed me, emblematical of herself and him.' I observed his +Royal Highness immediately beckon to a nobleman, who has since formed a +part of his establishment, and, looking most earnestly at me, whisper a +few words, at the same time presenting to him his newly acquired trophy. +In a few moments Lord C——entered the chamberlain's box, and, giving +the rosebuds into my hands, informed me that he was commissioned by the +prince to do so. I placed them in my bosom, and, I confess, felt proud +of the power by which I thus publicly mortified an exalted rival. His +Royal Highness now avowedly distinguished me at all public places of +entertainment, at the king's hunt near Windsor, at the reviews, and at +the theatres. The prince only seemed happy in evincing his affection +toward me. +</p> +<p> +"How terrible, then, was the change to my feelings! And I again most +solemnly repeat that I was totally ignorant of any just cause fur so +sudden an alteration. +</p> +<p> +"My 'good-natured friends' now carefully informed me of the multitude of +secret enemies who were ever employed in estranging the prince's mind +from me. So fascinating, so illustrious a lover could not fail to excite +the envy of my own sex. Women of all descriptions were emulous of +attracting his Royal Highness's attention. Alas! I had neither rank nor +power to oppose such adversaries. Every engine of female malice was set +in motion to destroy my repose, and every petty calumny was repeated +with tenfold embellishments. Tales of the most infamous and glaring +falsehood were invented, and I was again assailed by pamphlets, by +paragraphs, and caricatures, and all the artillery of slander, while the +only being to whom I then looked up for protection was so situated as to +be unable to afford it. +</p> +<p> +"Thus perplexed, I wrote to you, my friend, and implored your advice. +But you were far away; your delighted soul was absorbed in cherishing +the plant of human liberty, which has since blossomed with independent +splendour over your happy provinces. Eagerly did I wait for the arrival +of the packet, but no answer was returned. In the anguish of my soul I +once more addressed the Prince of Wales; I complained, perhaps too +vehemently, of his injustice; of the calumnies which had been by my +enemies fabricated against me, of the falsehood of which he was but too +sensible. I conjured him to render me justice. He did so; he wrote me a +most eloquent letter, disclaiming the causes alleged by a calumniating +world, and fully acquitting me of the charges which had been propagated +to destroy me. +</p> +<p> +"I resided now in Cork Street, Burlington Gardens. The house, which was +neat, but by no means splendid, had recently been fitted up for the +reception of the Countess of Derby, on her separation from her lord. My +situation now every hour became more irksome. The prince still unkindly +persisted in withdrawing himself from my society. I was now deeply +involved in debt, which I despaired of ever having the power to +discharge. I had quitted both my husband and my profession. The +retrospect was dreadful! +</p> +<p> +"My estrangement from the prince was now the theme of public +animadversion, while the newly invigorated shafts of my old enemies, the +daily prints, were again hurled upon my defenceless head with tenfold +fury. The regrets of Mr. Robinson, now that he had lost me, became +insupportable; he constantly wrote to me in the language of unbounded +affection, nor did he fail, when we met, to express his agony at our +separation, and even a wish for our reunion. +</p> +<p> +"I had, at one period, resolved on returning to my profession; but some +friends whom I consulted dreaded that the public would not suffer my +reappearance on the stage. This idea intimidated me, and precluded my +efforts for that independence of which my romantic credulity had robbed +me. I was thus fatally induced to relinquish what would have proved an +ample and honourable resource for myself and my child. My debts +accumulated to near seven thousand pounds. My creditors, whose insulting +illiberality could only be equalled by their unbounded impositions, +hourly assailed me. +</p> +<p> +"I was, in the meantime, wholly neglected by the prince, while the +assiduities of Lord Malden daily increased. I had no other friend on +whom I could rely for assistance or protection. When I say protection, I +would not be understood to mean pecuniary assistance, Lord Mailden +being, at the time alluded to, even poorer than myself,—the death of +his lordship's grandmother, Lady Frances Coningsby, had not then placed +him above the penury of his own small income. +</p> +<p> +"Lord Maiden's attentions to me again exposed him to all the humiliation +of former periods. The prince assured me once more of his wishes to +renew our former friendship and affection, and urged me to meet him at +the house of Lord Malden in Clarges Street. I was at this period little +less than frantic, deeply involved in debt, persecuted by my enemies, +and perpetually reproached by my relations. I would joyfully have +resigned an existence now become to me an intolerable burthen; yet my +pride was not less than my sorrow, and I resolved, whatever my heart +might suffer, to wear a placid countenance when I met the inquiring +glances of my triumphant enemies. +</p> +<p> +"After much hesitation, by the advice of Lord Malden, I consented to +meet his Royal Highness. He accosted me with every appearance of tender +attachment, declaring that he had never for one moment ceased to love +me, but that I had many concealed enemies, who were exerting every +effort to undermine me. We passed some hours in the most friendly and +delightful conversation, and I began to flatter myself that all our +differences were adjusted. But what words can express my surprise and +chagrin, when, on meeting his Royal Highness the very next day in Hyde +Park, he turned his head to avoid seeing me, and even affected not +to know me! +</p> +<p> +"Overwhelmed by this blow, my distress knew no limits. Yet Heaven can +witness the truth of my assertion, even in this moment of complete +despair, when oppression bowed me to the earth, I blamed not the prince. +I did then, and ever shall, consider his mind as nobly and honourably +organised, nor could I teach myself to believe that a heart, the seat of +so many virtues, could possibly become inhuman and unjust. I had been +taught from my infancy to believe that elevated stations are surrounded +by delusive visions, which glitter but to dazzle, like an unsubstantial +meteor, and flatter to betray. With legions of these phantoms it has +been my fate to encounter; I have been unceasingly marked by their +persecutions, and shall at length become their victim." +</p> + +<!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + +<a name="image-4"><!-- Image 4 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image4.jpg" height="821" width="519" +alt="Mrs. Robinson from a Painting by Gainsborough"><br> +Mrs. Robinson from a Painting by Gainsborough +</center> + +<p> +Here the narrative of Mrs. Robinson breaks off, with some reflections to +which the recital had given rise. Though diligent search has been made +to elucidate the obscurity in which the preceding events are involved, +but little information has been gained. All that can be learned with +certainty is her final separation from the Prince of Wales in the +year 1781. +</p> +<p> +The genius and engaging manners of Mrs. Robinson, who was still very +young, had procured her the friendship of many of the most enlightened +men of this age and country; her house was the rendezvous of talents. +While yet unconscious of the powers of her mind, which had scarcely then +unfolded itself, she was honoured with the acquaintance and esteem of +Sir Joshua Reynolds, Messrs. Sheridan, Burke, Henderson, Wilkes, Sir +John Elliot, etc., men of distinguished talents and character. But +though surrounded by the wise, the witty, and the gay, her mind, +naturally pensive, was still devoured by secret sorrow; neither could +the blandishments of flattery, nor the soothings of friendship, extract +the arrow that rankled in her heart. Involved beyond the power of +extrication, she determined on quitting England, and making a tour +to Paris. +</p> +<p> +To desert her country, to fly like a wretched fugitive, or to become a +victim to the malice, and swell the triumph of her enemies, were the +only alternatives that seemed to present themselves. Flight was +humiliating and dreadful, but to remain in England was impracticable. +The terrors and struggles of her mind became almost intolerable, and +nearly deprived her of reason. The establishment of the prince had now +taken place; to him, for whom she had made every sacrifice, and to whom +she owed her present embarrassments, she conceived herself entitled to +appeal for redress. She wrote to his Royal Highness, but her letter +remained unanswered. The business was at length submitted to the +arbitration of Mr. Fox, and, in 1783, her claims were adjusted by the +grant of an annuity of five hundred pounds, the moiety of which was to +descend to her daughter at her decease. This settlement was to be +considered as an equivalent for the bond of twenty thousand pounds given +by the prince to Mrs. Robinson, to be paid on his establishment, as a +consideration for the resignation of a lucrative profession at the +particular request of his Royal Highness. To many persons the assurance +of an independence would have operated as a consolation for the +sufferings and difficulties by which it had been procured; but the +spirit of Mrs. Robinson bent not to a situation which the delicacy of +her feelings led her to consider as a splendid degradation. +</p> +<p> +About this period, Mrs. Robinson, notwithstanding the change in her +affairs, determined to visit Paris, to amuse her mind and beguile her +thoughts from the recollection of past scenes. Having procured letters +of introduction to some agreeable French families, and also to Sir John +Lambert, resident English banker at Paris, she quitted London, with the +resolution of passing two months in the gay and brilliant metropolis of +France. Sir John Lambert, on being informed of her arrival, exerted +himself to procure for her commodious apartments, a <i>remise</i>, a box at +the opera, with all the fashionable and expensive etceteras with which +an inexperienced English traveller is immediately provided. +</p> +<p> +This venerable chevalier united to the cordiality of the English +character the <i>bienfaisance</i> of a Frenchman; every hour was devoted to +the amusement of his admired guest, who came to him highly recommended. +Parties were, with the most flattering assiduity, formed for the +different spectacles and places of public entertainment. A brilliant +assemblage of illustrious visitors failed not to grace at the opera the +box of <i>la belle Anglaise</i>. +</p> +<p> +A short time after the arrival of Mrs. Robinson at Paris, the Duke of +Orleans and his gallant friend and associate, the Duke de Lauzun +(afterward Duke de Biron), were presented to her by Sir John Lambert. +This unfortunate prince, with all the volatility of the national +character, disgraced human nature by his vices, while the elegance of +his manners rendered him a model to his contemporaries. +</p> +<p> +The Duke of Orleans immediately professed himself devoted to the fair +stranger. His libertine manners, the presumption with which he declared +his determination to triumph over the heart of Mrs. Robinson, assisted +to defend her against him; and, while he failed to dazzle her +imagination by his magnificence, he disgusted her by his hauteur. +</p> +<p> +The most enchanting fêtes were given at Mousseau, a villa belonging to +the Duke of Orleans. near Paris, at which Mrs. Robinson invariably +declined to appear. Brilliant races <i>à l'Anglaise</i> were exhibited on the +plains <i>des Sablons</i>, to captivate the attention of the inexorable +<i>Anglaise</i>. On the birthday of Mrs. Robinson a new effort was made to +subdue her aversion and to obtain her regard. A rural fête was appointed +in the gardens of Mousseau, when this beautiful pandemonium of splendid +profligacy was, at an unusual expense, decorated with boundless luxury. +</p> +<p> +In the evening, amidst a magnificent illumination, every tree displayed +the initials of <i>la belle Anglaise</i>, composed of coloured lamps, +interwoven with wreaths of artificial flowers. Politeness compelled Mrs. +Robinson to grace with her presence a fête instituted to her honour. +She, however, took the precaution of selecting for her companion a +German lady, then resident at Paris, while the venerable chevalier +Lambert attended them as a chaperon. +</p> +<p> +Some days after the celebration of this festival, the Queen of France +signified her intention of dining in public, for the first time after +her accouchement with the Duke of Normandy, afterward dauphin. The duke +brought to Mrs. Robinson a message from the queen, expressing a wish +that <i>la belle Anglaise</i> might be induced to appear at the <i>grand +convert</i>. Mrs. Robinson, not less solicitous to behold the lovely Marie +Antoinette, gladly availed herself of the intimation, and immediately +began to prepare for the important occasion. The most tasteful ornaments +of Mademoiselle Bertin, the reigning milliner, were procured to adorn a +form that, rich in native beauty, needed little embellishment. A pale +green lustring train and body, with a tiffany petticoat, festooned with +bunches of the most delicate lilac, were chosen by Mrs. Robinson for her +appearance, while a plume of white feathers adorned her head; the native +roses of her cheeks, glowing with health and youth, were stained, in +conformity to the fashion of the French court, with the deepest rouge. +</p> +<p> +On the arrival of the fair foreigner, the Duke d'Orleans quitted the +king, on whom he was then in waiting, to procure her a place, where the +queen might have an opportunity of observing those charms by the fame of +which her curiosity had been awakened. +</p> +<p> +The <i>grand convert</i>, at which the king acquitted himself with more +alacrity than grace, afforded a magnificent display of epicurean luxury. +The queen ate nothing. The slender crimson cord, which drew a line of +separation between the royal epicures and the gazing plebeians, was at +the distance but of a few feet from the table. A small space divided the +queen from Mrs. Robinson, whom the constant observation and loudly +whispered encomiums of her Majesty most oppressively flattered. She +appeared to survey, with peculiar attention, a miniature of the Prince +of Wales, which Mrs. Robinson wore on her bosom, and of which, on the +ensuing day, she commissioned the Duke of Orleans to request the loan. +Perceiving Mrs. Robinson gaze with admiration on her white and polished +arms, as she drew on her gloves, the queen again uncovered them, and +leaned for a few moments on her hand. The duke, on returning the +picture, gave to the fair owner a purse, netted by the hand of +Antoinette, and which she had commissioned him to present, from her, to +<i>la belle Anglaise</i>. Mrs. Robinson not long after these events quitted +Paris, and returned to her native country. +</p> +<p> +In 1784 her fate assumed a darker hue. She was attacked by a malady, to +which she had nearly fallen a victim. By an imprudent exposure to the +night air in travelling, when, exhausted by fatigue and mental anxiety, +she slept in a chaise with the windows open, she brought on a fever, +which confined her to her bed during six months. The disorder terminated +at the conclusion of that period in a violent rheumatism, which +progressively deprived her of the use of her limbs. Thus, at four and +twenty years of age, in the pride of youth and the bloom of beauty, was +this lovely and unfortunate woman reduced to a state of more than +infantile helplessness. Yet, even under so severe a calamity, the powers +of her mind and the elasticity of her spirits triumphed over the +weakness of her frame. This check to the pleasures and vivacity of +youth, by depriving her of external resource, led her to the more +assiduous cultivation and development of her talents. But the +resignation with which she had submitted to one of the severest of human +calamities gave place to hope, on the assurance of her physician, that +by the mild air of a more southern climate she might probably be +restored to health and activity. +</p> +<p> +The favourite wish of her heart, that of beholding her relations, from +whom she had been so many years divided, it was now in her power to +gratify. From her elder brother she had frequently received invitations, +the most pressing and affectionate, to quit for ever a country where an +unprotected woman rarely fails to become the victim of calumny and +persecution, and to take shelter in the bosom of domestic tranquillity, +where peace, to which she had long been a stranger, might still await +her. Delighted with the idea of combining with the object of her travels +an acquisition so desirable, and after which her exhausted heart panted, +she eagerly embraced the proposal, and set out to Paris, with the +resolution of proceeding to Leghorn. But a letter, on her arrival, from +her physician, prescribing the warm baths of Aix-la-Chapelle in Germany, +as a certain restorative for her complaints, frustrated her plans. Once +more she proceeded in melancholy pursuit of that blessing which she was +destined never more to obtain. +</p> +<p> +During her sojourn at Aix-la-Chapelle, a dawn of comparative +tranquillity soothed her spirits. Secure from the machinations of her +enemies, she determined, though happiness seemed no more within her +reach, to endeavour to be content. The assiduities and attentions shown +her by all ranks of people presented a striking medium between the +volatility and libertine homage offered to her at Paris, and the +persevering malignity which had followed her in her native land. Her +beauty, the affecting state of her health, the attraction of her +manners, and the powers of her mind, interested every heart in her +favour; while the meekness with which she submitted to her fate excited +an admiration not less fervent, and more genuine, than her charms in the +full blaze of their power had ever extorted. +</p> +<p> +Among the many illustrious and enlightened persons then resident at +Aix-la-Chapelle, who honoured Mrs. Robinson by their friendship, she +received from the late amiable and unfortunate Duke and Duchess du +Châtelet peculiar marks of distinction. The duke had, while ambassador +in England, been the friend and associate of the learned Lord Mansfield; +his duchess, the <i>élève</i> of Voltaire, claimed as her godmother Gabrielle +Emilia, Baroness du Châtelet, so celebrated by that lively and admirable +writer. This inestimable family, consisting of the duke and duchess, +their nephews the Counts de Damas, and a niece married to the Duke de +Simianne, were indefatigable in their efforts to solace the affliction +and amuse the mind of their fair friend. Balls, concerts, rural +breakfasts, succeeded to each other in gay and attractive variety; the +happy effects produced on the health and spirits of Mrs. Robinson were +considered by this English family as an ample compensation for their +solicitude. When compelled by severer paroxysms of her malady to seclude +herself from their society, a thousand kind stratagems were planned and +executed to relieve her sufferings, or soften the dejection to which +they unavoidably gave rise. Sometimes, on entering her dark and +melancholy bath, the gloom of which was increased by high grated +windows, she beheld the surface of the water covered with rose-leaves, +while the vapour baths were impregnated with aromatic odours. The +younger part of the family, when pain deprived Mrs. Robinson of rest, +frequently passed the night beneath her windows, charming her sufferings +and beguiling her of her sorrows, by singing her favourite airs to the +accompaniment of the mandolin. +</p> +<p> +Thus, in despite of sickness, glided away two agreeable winters, when +the transient gleam of brightness became suddenly obscured, and her +prospects involved in deeper shade. +</p> +<p> +About this period Mrs. Robinson had the misfortune to lose her brave and +respected father,—a blow as forcible as unexpected, which nearly shook +her faculties, and, for a time, wholly overwhelmed her spirits. Captain +Darby had, on the failure of his fortunes, been presented to the command +of a small ordnance vessel, through the interest of some of his noble +associates in the Indian expedition. Not having been regularly bred to +the sea, this was the only naval appointment which he could receive. +Enthusiastically attached to his profession, he omitted no occasion of +signalising himself. The siege of Gibraltar, in the year 1783, afforded +to him an opportunity after which he had long panted, when his small +vessel and gallant crew extorted by their courage and exertions the +admiration and applause of the fleet. Having fought till his rigging was +nearly destroyed, he turned his attention to the sinking Spaniards, whom +he sought to snatch from the flaming wrecks, floating around him in all +directions, and had the satisfaction to preserve, though at the hazard +of his life, some hundreds of his fellow beings. The vessel of Captain +Darby was the first that reached the rock by nearly an hour. On his +landing, General Elliot received and embraced him with the plaudits due +to his gallant conduct. +</p> +<p> +In the presence of his officers, the general lamented that so brave a +man had not been bred to a profession to which his intrepidity would +have done distinguished honour. To this eulogium he added, that, with +the courage of a lion, Captain Darby possessed the firmness of the rock +which he had so bravely defended. +</p> +<p> +To his care was entrusted by the commander a copy of the despatches, +which Captain Darby delivered four and twenty hours before the arrival +of the regular vessel. For this diligence, and the conduct which had +preceded it, he received the thanks of the Board of Admiralty, while on +the other captain was bestowed the more substantial recompense of five +hundred pounds. An injustice so glaring was not calculated to lessen +Captain Darby's distaste for England, which he quitted, after taking of +his unhappy family an affectionate farewell. +</p> +<p> +At sixty-two years of age, he set out to regain in a foreign country the +fortune he had sacrificed in the service of his own. With powerful +recommendations from the Duke of Dorset and the Count de Simolin, he +proceeded to Petersburg. From the Count de Simolin he continued to +experience, till the latest period of his existence, a steady and +zealous friendship. Captain Darby had been but two years in the Russian +imperial service when he was promoted to the command of a seventy-four +gun ship, with a promise of the appointment of admiral on the first +vacancy. On the 5th of December, 1785, death put a stop to his career. +He was buried with military honours, and attended to the grave by his +friends, Admiral Greig, the Counts Czernichef and De Simolin, with the +officers of the fleet.[<a href="#note-43">43</a>] +</p> +<p> +This honourable testimony to her father's worth was the only consolation +remaining to his daughter, whose enfeebled health and broken spirits +sunk beneath these repeated strokes. +</p> +<p> +During the four succeeding years of the life of Mrs. Robinson, but few +events occurred worthy of remark. In search of lost health, which she +had so long and vainly pursued, she determined to repair to the baths of +St. Amand, in Flanders, those receptacles of loathsome mud, and of +reptiles, unknown to other soils, which fasten on the bodies of those +who bathe. Mrs. Robinson made many visits to these distasteful ditches +before she could prevail on herself to enter them. Neither the example +of her fellow sufferers, nor the assurance of cures performed by their +wonderful efficacy, could for a long time overcome her disgust. At +length, solicitude for the restoration of her health, added to the +earnest remonstrances of her friends, determined her on making the +effort. For the purpose of being near the baths, which must be entered +an hour before the rising of the sun, she hired a small but beautiful +cottage near the spring, where she passed the summer of 1787. These +peaceful vales and venerable woods were, at no distant period, destined +to become the seat of war and devastation, and the very cottage in which +Mrs. Robinson resided was converted into the headquarters of a +Republican French general.[<a href="#note-44">44</a>] +</p> + +<!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + +<a name="image-5"><!-- Image 5 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image5.jpg" height="784" width="524" +alt="The Prince of Wales from a Painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence"><br> +The Prince of Wales from a Painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence +</center> + +<p> +Every endeavour to subdue her disorder proving ineffectual, Mrs. +Robinson relinquished her melancholy and fruitless pursuit, and resolved +once more to return to her native land. Proceeding through Paris, she +reached England in the beginning of 1787, from which period may be dated +the commencement of her literary career. On her arrival in London she +was affectionately received by the few friends whose attachment neither +detraction nor adverse fortunes could weaken or estrange. During an +absence of five years death had made inroads in the little circle of her +connections; many of those whose idea had been her solace in affliction, +and whose welcome she had delighted to anticipate, were now, alas! +no more.[<a href="#note-45">45</a>] +</p> +<p> +Once more established in London, and surrounded by social and rational +friends, Mrs. Robinson began to experience comparative tranquillity. The +Prince of Wales, with his brother the Duke of York, frequently honoured +her residence with their presence; but the state of her health, which +required more repose, added to the indisposition of her daughter, who +was threatened by a consumptive disorder, obliged her to withdraw to a +situation of greater retirement. Maternal solicitude for a beloved and +only child now wholly engaged her attention; her assiduities were +incessant and exemplary for the restoration of a being to whom she had +given life, and to whom she was fondly devoted. +</p> +<p> +In the course of the summer she was ordered by her physician to +Brighthelmstone, for the benefit of sea bathing. During hours of tedious +watching over the health of her suffering child, Mrs. Robinson beguiled +her anxiety by contemplating the ocean, whose successive waves, breaking +upon the shore, beat against the wall of their little garden. To a mind +naturally susceptible, and tinctured by circumstances with sadness, this +occupation afforded a melancholy pleasure, which could scarcely be +relinquished without regret. Whole nights were passed by Mrs. Robinson +at her window in deep meditation, contrasting with her present situation +the scenes of her former life. +</p> +<p> +Every device which a kind and skilful nurse could invent to cheer and +amuse her charge was practised by this affectionate mother, during the +melancholy period of her daughter's confinement. In the intervals of +more active exertion, the silence of a sick-chamber proving favourable +to the muse, Mrs. Robinson poured forth those poetic effusions which +have done so much honour to her genius and decked her tomb with unfading +laurels. Conversing one evening with Mr. Richard Burke,[<a href="#note-46">46</a>] respecting +the facility with which modern poetry was composed, Mrs. Robinson +repeated nearly the whole of those beautiful lines, which were afterward +given to the public, addressed: "To him who will understand them." +</p> +<pre> + "LINES + + "TO HIM WHO WILL UNDERSTAND THEM + + "Thou art no more my bosom's friend; + Here must the sweet delusion end, + That charmed my senses many a year, + Through smiling summers, winters drear. + Oh, friendship! am I doomed to find + Thou art a phantom of the mind? + A glitt'ring shade, an empty name, + An air-born vision's vap'rish flame? + And yet, the dear deceit so long + Has wak'd to joy my matin song, + Has bid my tears forget to flow, + Chas'd ev'ry pain, sooth'd ev'ry woe; + That truth, unwelcome to my ear, + Swells the deep sigh, recalls the tear, + Gives to the sense the keenest smart, + Checks the warm pulses of the heart, + Darkens my fate, and steals away + Each gleam of joy through life's sad day. + + "Britain, farewell! I quit thy shore; + My native country charms no more; + No guide to mark the toilsome road; + No destin'd clime; no fix'd abode: + Alone and sad, ordain'd to trace + The vast expanse of endless space; + To view, upon the mountain's height, + Through varied shades of glimm'ring light, + The distant landscape fade away + In the last gleam of parting day: + Or, on the quiv'ring lucid stream, + To watch the pale moon's silv'ry beam; + Or when, in sad and plaintive strains, + The mournful Philomel complains, + In dulcet tones bewails her fate, + And murmurs for her absent mate; + Inspir'd by sympathy divine, + I'll weep her woes—for they are mine. + Driv'n by my fate, where'er I go, + O'er burning plains, o'er hills of snow, + Or on the bosom of the wave, + The howling tempest doom'd to brave,— + Where'er my lonely course I bend, + Thy image shall my steps attend; + Each object I am doom'd to see, + Shall bid remembrance picture thee. + Yes; I shall view thee in each flow'r, + That changes with the transient hour: + Thy wand'ring fancy I shall find + Borne on the wings of every wind: + Thy wild impetuous passions trace + O'er the white waves' tempestuous space; + In every changing season prove + An emblem of thy wav'ring love. + + "Torn from my country, friends, and you, + The world lies open to my view; + New objects shall my mind engage; + I will explore th' historic page; + Sweet poetry shall soothe my soul; + Philosophy each pang control: + The muse I'll seek—her lambent fire + My soul's quick senses shall inspire; + With finer nerves my heart shall beat, + Touch'd by heav'n's own Promethean heat; + Italia's gales shall bear my song + In soft-link'd notes her woods among; + Upon the blue hill's misty side, + Thro' trackless deserts waste and wide, + O'er craggy rocks, whose torrents flow + Upon the silver sands below. + Sweet land of melody! 'tis thine + The softest passions to refine; + Thy myrtle groves, thy melting strains, + Shall harmonise and soothe my pains. + Nor will I cast one thought behind, + On foes relentless, friends unkind: + I feel, I feel their poison'd dart + Pierce the life-nerve within my heart; + 'Tis mingled with the vital heat + That bids my throbbing pulses beat; + Soon shall that vital heat be o'er, + Those throbbing pulses beat no more! + No—I will breathe the spicy gale; + Plunge the clear stream, new health exhale; + O'er my pale cheek diffuse the rose, + And drink oblivion to my woes." +</pre> +<p> +This <i>improvisatore</i> produced in her auditor not less surprise than +admiration, when solemnly assured by its author that this was the first +time of its being repeated. Mr. Burke[<a href="#note-47">47</a>] entreated her to commit the +poem to writing, a request which was readily complied with. Mrs. +Robinson had afterward the gratification of finding this offspring of +her genius inserted in the <i>Annual Register</i>, with a flattering encomium +from the pen of the eloquent and ingenious editor. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Robinson continued to indulge in this solace for her dejected +spirits, and in sonnets, elegies, and odes, displayed the powers and +versatility of her mind. On one of these nights of melancholy +inspiration she discovered from her window a small boat, struggling in +the spray, which dashed against the wall of her garden. Presently two +fishermen brought on shore in their arms a burthen, which, +notwithstanding the distance, Mrs. Robinson perceived to be a human +body, which the fishermen, after covering with a sail from their boat, +left on the land and disappeared. But a short time elapsed before the +men returned, bringing with them fuel, with which they vainly +endeavoured to reanimate their unfortunate charge. Struck with a +circumstance so affecting, which the stillness of the night rendered yet +more impressive, Mrs. Robinson remained some time at her window, +motionless with horror. At length, recovering her recollection, she +alarmed the family; but before they could gain the beach the men had +again departed. The morning dawned, and day broke in upon the tragical +scene. The bathers passed and reprised with little concern, while the +corpse continued extended on the shore, not twenty yards from the +Steine. During the course of the day, many persons came to look on the +body, which still remained unclaimed and unknown. Another day wore away, +and the corpse was unburied, the lord of the manor having refused to a +fellow being a grave in which his bones might decently repose, alleging +as an excuse that he did not belong to that parish. Mrs. Robinson, +humanely indignant at the scene which passed, exerted herself, but +without success, to procure by subscription a small sum for performing +the last duties to a wretched outcast. Unwilling, by an ostentatious +display of her name, to offend the higher and more fastidious female +powers, she presented to the fishermen her own contribution, and +declined further to interfere. The affair dropped; and the body of the +stranger, being dragged to the cliff, was covered by a heap of stones, +without the tribute of a sigh or the ceremony of a prayer. +</p> +<p> +These circumstances made on the mind of Mrs. Robinson a deep and lasting +impression; even at a distant period she could not repeat them without +horror and indignation. This incident gave rise to the poem entitled +"The Haunted Beach," written but a few months before her death. +</p> +<p> +In the winter of 1790, Mrs. Robinson entered into a poetical +correspondence with Mr. Robert Merry, under the fictitious names of +"Laura," and "Laura Maria;" Mr. Merry assuming the title of "Della +Crusca."[<a href="#note-48">48</a>] +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Robinson now proceeded in her literary career with redoubled +ardour; but, dazzled by the false metaphors and rhapsodical extravagance +of some contemporary writers, she suffered her judgment to be misled and +her taste to be perverted; an error of which she became afterward +sensible. During her poetical disguise, many complimentary poems were +addressed to her; several ladies of the Blue Stocking Club, while Mrs. +Robinson remained unknown, even ventured to admire, nay more, to recite +her productions in their learned and critical coterie. +</p> +<p> +The attention which this novel species of correspondence excited, and +the encomiums which were passed on her poems, could not fail to gratify +the pride of the writer, who sent her next performance, with her own +signature, to the paper published under the title of <i>The World</i>, +avowing herself at the same time the author of the lines signed "Laura," +and "Laura Maria." This information being received by Mr. Bell, though a +professed admirer of the genius of Mrs. Robinson, with some degree of +skepticism, he replied, "That the poem with which Mrs. Robinson had +honoured him was vastly pretty; but that he was well acquainted with the +author of the productions alluded to." Mrs. Robinson, a little disgusted +at this incredulity, immediately sent for Mr. Bell, whom she found means +to convince of her veracity, and of his own injustice. +</p> +<p> +In 1791 Mrs. Robinson produced her quarto poem, entitled "Ainsi va le +Monde." This work, containing three hundred and fifty lines, was written +in twelve hours, as a reply to Mr. Merry's "Laurel of Liberty," which +was sent to Mrs. Robinson on a Saturday; on the Tuesday following the +answer was composed and given to the public. +</p> +<p> +Encouraged by popular approbation beyond her most sanguine hopes, Mrs. +Robinson now published her first essay in prose, in the romance of +"Vancenza," of which the whole edition was sold in one day, and of which +five impressions have since followed. It must be confessed that this +production owed its popularity to the celebrity of the author's name, +and the favourable impression of her talents given to the public by her +poetical compositions, rather than to its intrinsic merit. In the same +year the poems of Mrs. Robinson were collected and published in one +volume. The names of nearly six hundred subscribers, of the most +distinguished rank and talents, graced the list which precedes the work. +</p> +<p> +The mind of Mrs. Robinson, beguiled by these pursuits from preying upon +itself, became gradually reconciled to the calamitous state of her +health; the mournful certainty of total and incurable lameness, while +yet in the bloom and summer of life, was alleviated by the consciousness +of intellectual resource, and by the activity of a fertile fancy. In +1791 she passed the greater part of the summer at Bath, occupied in +lighter poetical compositions. But even from this relief she was now for +awhile debarred; the perpetual exercise of the imagination and +intellect, added to a uniform and sedentary life, affected the system of +her nerves, and contributed to debilitate her frame. She was prohibited +by her physician, not merely from committing her thoughts to paper, but, +had it been possible, from thinking at all. No truant, escaped from +school, could receive more pleasure in eluding a severe master, than did +Mrs. Robinson, when, the vigilance of her physician relaxing, she could +once more resume her books and her pen. +</p> +<p> +As an example of the facility and rapidity with which she composed, the +following anecdote may be given. Returning one evening from the bath, +she beheld, a few paces before her chair, an elderly man, hurried along +by a crowd of people, by whom he was pelted with mud and stones. His +meek and unresisting deportment exciting her attention, she inquired +what were his offences, and learned with pity and surprise that he was +an unfortunate maniac, known only by the appellation of "mad Jemmy." The +situation of this miserable being seized her imagination and became the +subject of her attention. She would wait whole hours for the appearance +of the poor maniac, and, whatever were her occupations, the voice of mad +Jemmy was sure to allure her to the window. She would gaze upon his +venerable but emaciated countenance with sensations of awe almost +reverential, while the barbarous persecutions of the thoughtless crowd +never failed to agonise her feelings. +</p> +<p> +One night after bathing, having suffered from her disorder more than +usual pain, she swallowed, by order of her physician, near eighty drops +of laudanum. Having slept for some hours, she awoke, and calling her +daughter, desired her to take a pen and write what she should dictate. +Miss Robinson, supposing that a request so unusual might proceed from +the delirium excited by the opium, endeavoured in vain to dissuade her +mother from her purpose. The spirit of inspiration was not to be +subdued, and she repeated, throughout, the admirable poem of "The +Maniac,"[<a href="#note-49">49</a>] much faster than it could be committed to paper. +</p> +<p> +She lay, while dictating, with her eyes closed, apparently in the stupor +which opium frequently produces, repeating like a person talking in her +sleep. This affecting performance, produced in circumstances so +singular, does no less credit to the genius than to the heart of +the author. +</p> +<p> +On the ensuing morning Mrs. Robinson had only a confused idea of what +had passed, nor could be convinced of the fact till the manuscript was +produced. She declared that she had been dreaming of mad Jemmy +throughout the night, but was perfectly unconscious of having been awake +while she composed the poem, or of the circumstances narrated by +her daughter. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Robinson, in the following summer, determined on another +continental tour, purposing to remain some time at Spa. She longed once +more to experience the friendly greeting and liberal kindness which even +her acknowledged talents had in her native country failed to procure. +She quitted London in July, 1792, accompanied by her mother and +daughter. The susceptible and energetic mind, fortunately for its +possessor, is endowed with an elastic power, that enables it to rise +again from the benumbing effects of those adverse strokes of fortune to +which it is but too vulnerable. If a lively imagination add poignancy to +disappointment, it also has in itself resources unknown to more equal +temperaments. In the midst of the depressing feelings which Mrs. +Robinson experienced in once more becoming a wanderer from her home, she +courted the inspiration of the muse, and soothed, by the following +beautiful stanzas, the melancholy sensations that oppressed her heart. +</p> +<pre> + "STANZAS + + "WRITTEN BETWEEN DOVER AND CALAIS, + + "JULY 20, 1792 + + "Bounding billow, cease thy motion, + Bear me not so swiftly o'er; + Cease thy roaring, foamy ocean, + I will tempt thy rage no more. + + "Ah! within my bosom beating, + Varying passions wildly reign; + Love, with proud Resentment meeting, + Throbs by turns, of joy and pain. + + "Joy, that far from foes I wander, + Where their taunts can reach no more; + Pain, that woman's heart grows fonder + When her dream of bliss is o'er! + + "Love, by fickle fancy banish'd, + Spurn'd by hope, indignant flies; + Yet when love and hope are vanish'd, + Restless mem'ry never dies. + + "Far I go, where fate shall lead me, + Far across the troubled deep; + Where no stranger's ear shall heed me, + Where no eye for me shall weep. + + "Proud has been my fatal passion! + Proud my injured heart shall be! + While each thought, each inclination, + Still shall prove me worthy thee! + + "Not one sigh shall tell my story; + Not one tear my cheek shall stain; + Silent grief shall be my glory,— + Grief, that stoops not to complain! + + "Let the bosom prone to ranging, + Still by ranging seek a cure; + Mine disdains the thought of changing, + Proudly destin'd to endure. + + "Yet, ere far from all I treasur'd, + ——ere I bid adieu; + Ere my days of pain are measur'd, + Take the song that's still thy due! + + "Yet, believe, no servile passions + Seek to charm thy vagrant mind; + Well I know thy inclinations, + Wav'ring as the passing wind. + + "I have lov'd thee,—dearly lov'd thee, + Through an age of worldly woe; + How ungrateful I have prov'd thee + Let my mournful exile show! + + "Ten long years of anxious sorrow, + Hour by hour I counted o'er; + Looking forward, till to-morrow, + Every day I lov'd thee more! + + "Pow'r and splendour could not charm me; + I no joy in wealth could see! + Nor could threats or fears alarm me, + Save the fear of losing thee! + + "When the storms of fortune press'd thee, + I have wept to see thee weep + When relentless cares distress'd thee, + I have lull'd those cares to sleep! + + "When with thee, what ills could harm me? + Thou couldst every pang assuage; + But when absent, nought could charm me; + Every moment seem'd an age. + + "Fare thee well, ungrateful lover! + Welcome Gallia's hostile shore: + Now the breezes waft me over; + Now we part—to meet no more." +</pre> +<p> +On landing at Calais, Mrs. Robinson hesitated whether to proceed. To +travel through Flanders, then the seat of war, threatened too many +perils to be attempted with impunity; she determined, therefore, for +some time to remain at Calais, the insipid and spiritless amusements of +which presented little either to divert her attention or engage her +mind. Her time passed in listening to the complaints of the impoverished +aristocrats, or in attending to the air-built projects of their +triumphant adversaries. The arrival of travellers from England, or the +return of those from Paris, alone diversified the scene, and afforded a +resource to the curious and active inquirer. +</p> +<p> +The sudden arrival of her husband gave a turn to the feelings of Mrs. +Robinson: he had crossed the channel for the purpose of carrying back to +England his daughter, whom he wished to present to a brother newly +returned from the East Indies. Maternal conflicts shook on this occasion +the mind of Mrs. Robinson, which hesitated between a concern for the +interests of her beloved child, from whom she had never been separated, +and the pain of parting from her. She resolved at length on accompanying +her to England, and, with this view, quitted Calais on the memorable 2d +of September, 1792,[<a href="#note-50">50</a>] a day which will reflect on the annals of the +republic an indelible stain. +</p> +<p> +They had sailed but a few hours when the <i>arrêt</i> arrived, by which every +British subject throughout France was restrained. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Robinson rejoiced in her escape, and anticipated with delight the +idea of seeing her daughter placed in wealthy protection, the great +passport in her own country to honour and esteem. Miss Robinson received +from her new relation the promise of protection and favour, upon +condition that she renounced for ever the filial tie which united her to +both parents. This proposal was rejected by the young lady with proper +principle and becoming spirit. +</p> +<p> +In the year 1793 a little farce, entitled "Nobody," was written by Mrs. +Robinson. This piece, designed as a satire on female gamesters, was +received at the theatre, the characters distributed, and preparations +made for its exhibition. At this period one of the principal performers +gave up her part, alleging that the piece was intended as a ridicule on +her particular friend. Another actress also, though in "herself a host," +was intimidated by a letter, informing her that "'Nobody' should be +damned!" The author received likewise, on the same day, a scurrilous, +indecent, and ill-disguised scrawl, signifying to her that the farce was +already condemned. On the drawing up of the curtain, several persons in +the galleries, whose liveries betrayed their employers, were heard to +declare that they were sent to do up "Nobody." Even women of +distinguished rank hissed through their fans. Notwithstanding these +manoeuvres and exertions, the more rational part of the audience seemed +inclined to hear before they passed judgment, and, with a firmness that +never fails to awe, demanded that the piece should proceed. The first +act was accordingly suffered without interruption; a song in the second +being unfortunately encored, the malcontents once more ventured to raise +their voices, and the malignity that had been forcibly suppressed burst +forth with redoubled violence. For three nights the theatre presented a +scene of confusion, when the authoress, after experiencing the +gratification of a zealous and sturdy defence, thought proper wholly to +withdraw the cause of contention.[<a href="#note-51">51</a>] +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Robinson in the course of this year lost her only remaining parent, +whom she tenderly loved and sincerely lamented. Mrs. Darby expired in +the house of her daughter, who, though by far the least wealthy of her +children, had proved herself through life the most attentive and +affectionate. From the first hour of Mr. Darby's failure and +estrangement from his family, Mrs. Robinson had been the protector and +the support of her mother. Even when pressed herself by pecuniary +embarrassment, it had been her pride and pleasure to shelter her widowed +parent, ands preserve her from inconvenience. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Darby had two sons, merchants, wealthy and respected in the +commercial world; but to these gentlemen Mrs. Robinson would never +suffer her mother to apply for any assistance that was not voluntarily +offered. The filial sorrow of Mrs. Robinson on her loss, for many months +affected her health; even to the latest hour of her life her grief +appeared renewed when any object presented itself connected with the +memory of her departed mother. +</p> +<p> +Few events of importance occurred during the five following years, +excepting that through this period the friends of Mrs. Robinson observed +with concern the gradual ravages which indisposition and mental anxiety +were daily making upon her frame. An ingenuous, affectionate, +susceptible heart is seldom favourable to the happiness of the +possessor. It was the fate of Mrs. Robinson to be deceived where she +most confided, to experience reachery and ingratitude where she had a +title to kindness and a claim to support. Frank and unsuspicious, she +suffered her conduct to be guided by the impulse of her feelings; and, +by a too credulous reliance on the apparent attachment of those whom she +loved, and in whom she delighted to trust, she laid herself open to the +impositions of the selfish, and the stratagems of the crafty. +</p> +<p> +In 1799 her increasing involvements and declining health pressed heavily +upon her mind. She had voluntarily relinquished those comforts and +elegancies to which she had been accustomed; she had retrenched even her +necessary expenses, and nearly secluded herself from society. Her +physician had declared that by exercise only could her existence be +prolonged; yet the narrowness of her circumstances obliged her to forego +the only means by which it could be obtained. Thus, a prisoner in her +own house, she was deprived of every solace but that which could be +obtained by the activity of her mind, which at length sank under +excessive exertion and inquietude. +</p> +<p> +Indisposition had for nearly five weeks confined her to her bed, when, +after a night of extreme suffering and peril, through which her +physician hourly expected her dissolution, she had sunk into a gentle +and balmy sleep. At this instant her chamber door was forcibly pushed +open, with a noise that shook her enfeebled frame nearly to +annihilation, by two strange and ruffian-looking men, who entered with +barbarous abruptness. On her faintly inquiring the occasion of this +outrage, she was informed that one of her unwelcome visitors was an +attorney, and the other his client, who had thus, with as little decency +as humanity, forced themselves into the chamber of an almost expiring +woman. The motive of this intrusion was to demand her appearance, as a +witness, in a suit pending against her brother, in which these men were +parties concerned. No entreaties could prevail on them to quit the +chamber, where they both remained, questioning, in a manner the most +unfeeling and insulting, the unfortunate victim of their audacity and +persecution. One of them, the client, with a barbarous and unmanly +sneer, turning to his confederate, asked, "Who, to see the lady they +were now speaking to, could believe that she had once been called the +beautiful Mrs. Robinson?" To this he added other observations not less +savage and brutal; and, after throwing on the bed a subpoena, quitted +the apartment. The wretch who could thus, by insulting the sick, and +violating every law of humanity and common decency, disgrace the figure +of a man, was a professor and a priest of that religion which enjoins us +"not to break the bruised reed," "and to bind up the broken in heart!" +His name shall be suppressed, through respect to the order of which he +is an unworthy member. The consequences of this brutality upon the poor +invalid were violent convulsions, which had nearly extinguished the +struggling spark of life. +</p> +<p> +By slow degrees her malady yielded to the cares and skill of her medical +attendants, and she was once more restored to temporary convalescence; +but from that time her strength gradually decayed. Though her frame was +shaken to its centre, her circumstances compelled her still to exert the +faculties of her mind. +</p> +<p> +The sportive exercises of fancy were now converted into toilsome labours +of the brain,—nights of sleepless anxiety were succeeded by days of +vexation and dread. +</p> +<p> +About this period she was induced to undertake the poetical department +for the editor of a morning paper,[<a href="#note-52">52</a>] and actually commenced a series +of satirical odes, on local and temporary subjects, to which was affixed +the signature of "Tabitha Bramble." Among these lighter compositions, +considered by the author as unworthy of a place with her collected +poems, a more matured production of her genius was occasionally +introduced, of which the following "Ode to Spring," written April 30, +1780, is a beautiful and affecting example: +</p> +<pre> + "ODE TO SPRING + + "Life-glowing season! odour-breathing Spring! + Deck'd in cerulean splendours!—vivid,—warm, + Shedding soft lustre on the rosy hours, + And calling forth their beauties! balmy Spring! + To thee the vegetating world begins + To pay fresh homage. Ev'ry southern gale + Whispers thy coming;—every tepid show'r + Revivifies thy charms. The mountain breeze + Wafts the ethereal essence to the vale, + While the low vale returns its fragrant hoard + With tenfold sweetness. When the dawn unfolds + Its purple splendours 'mid the dappled clouds, + Thy influence cheers the soul. When noon uplifts + Its burning canopy, spreading the plain + Of heaven's own radiance with one vast of light, + Thou smil'st triumphant! Ev'ry little flow'r + Seems to exult in thee, delicious Spring, + Luxuriant nurse of nature! By the stream, + That winds its swift course down the mountain's side, + Thy progeny are seen;—young primroses, + And all the varying buds of wildest birth, + Dotting the green slope gaily. On the thorn, + Which arms the hedgerow, the young birds invite + With merry minstrelsy, shrilly and maz'd + With winding cadences: now quick, now sunk + In the low twitter'd song. The evening sky + Reddens the distant main; catching the sail, + Which slowly lessens, and with crimson hue + Varying the sea-green wave; while the young moon, + Scarce visible amid the warmer tints + Of western splendours, slowly lifts her brow + Modest and icy-lustred! O'er the plain + The light dews rise, sprinkling the thistle's head, + And hanging its clear drops on the wild waste + Of broomy fragrance. Season of delight! + Thou soul-expanding pow'r, whose wondrous glow + Can bid all nature smile! Ah! why to me + Come unregarded, undelighting still + This ever-mourning bosom? So I've seen + The sweetest flow'rets bind the icy urn; + The brightest sunbeams glitter on the grave; + And the soft zephyr kiss the troubled main, + With whispered murmurs. Yes, to me, O Spring! + Thou com'st unwelcom'd by a smile of joy; + To me! slow with'ring to that silent grave + Where all is blank and dreary! Yet once more + The Spring eternal of the soul shall dawn, + Unvisited by clouds, by storms, by change, + Radiant and unexhausted! Then, ye buds, + Ye plumy minstrels, and ye balmy gales, + Adorn your little hour, and give your joys + To bless the fond world-loving traveller, + Who, smiling, measures the long flow'ry path + That leads to death! For to such wanderers + Life is a busy, pleasing, cheerful dream, + And the last hour unwelcome. Not to me, + Oh! not to me, stern Death, art thou a foe; + Thou art the welcome messenger, which brings + A passport to a blest and long repose." +</pre> +<p> +A just value was at that time set upon the exertions of Mrs. Robinson, +by the conductors of the paper, who "considered them as one of the +principal embellishments and supports of their journal." +</p> +<p> +In the spring of 1800 she was compelled by the daily encroachments of +her malady wholly to relinquish her literary employments. +</p> +<p> +Her disorder was pronounced by the physicians to be a rapid decline. Dr. +Henry Vaughan, who to medical skill unites the most exalted +philanthropy, prescribed, as a last resource, a journey to Bristol +Wells. A desire once again to behold her native scenes induced Mrs. +Robinson eagerly to accede to this proposal. She wept with melancholy +pleasure at the idea of closing her eyes for ever upon a world of vanity +and disappointment in the place in which she had first drawn breath, and +terminating her sorrows on the spot which gave her birth; but even this +sad solace was denied to her, from a want of the pecuniary means for +its execution. In vain she applied to those on whom honour, humanity, +and justice, gave her undoubted claims. She even condescended to +entreat, as a donation, the return of those sums granted as a loan in +her prosperity. +</p> +<p> +The following is a copy of a letter addressed on this occasion to a +noble debtor, and found among the papers of Mrs. Robinson after +her decease: +</p> +<p> +'To—— +</p> +<p> +"April 23, 1800. +</p> +<p> +"MY LORD:—Pronounced by my physicians to be in a rapid decline, I trust +that your lordship will have the goodness to assist me with a part of +the sum for which you are indebted to me. Without your aid I cannot make +trial of the Bristol waters, the only remedy that presents to me any +hope of preserving my existence. I should be sorry to die at enmity with +any person; and you may be assured, my dear lord, that I bear none +toward you. It would be useless to ask you to call on me; but if you +would do me that honour, I should be happy, very happy, to see +you, being, +</p> +<p> +"My dear lord, +</p> +<p> +"Yours truly, +</p> +<center> +"MARY ROBINSON." +</center> +<p> +To this letter no answer was returned! Further comments are unnecessary. +</p> +<p> +The last literary performance of Mrs. Robinson was a volume of Lyrical +Tales. She repaired a short time after to a small cottage <i>ornée</i>, +belonging to her daughter, near Windsor. Rural occupation and amusement, +quiet and pure air, appeared for a time to cheer her spirits and +renovate her shattered frame. Once more her active mind returned to its +accustomed and favourite pursuits; but the toil of supplying the +constant variety required by a daily print, added to other engagements, +which she almost despaired of being capacitated to fulfil pressed +heavily upon her spirits, and weighed down her enfeebled frame. Yet, in +the month of August, she began and concluded, in the course of ten days, +a translation of Doctor Hagar's "Picture of Palermo,"—an exertion by +which she was greatly debilitated. She was compelled, though with +reluctance, to relinquish the translation of "The Messiah" of Klopstock, +which she had proposed giving to the English reader in blank verse,—a +task particularly suited to her genius and the turn of her mind. +</p> +<p> +But, amidst the pressure of complicated distress, the mind of this +unfortunate woman was superior to improper concessions, and treated with +just indignation those offers of service which required the sacrifice of +her integrity. +</p> +<p> +She yet continued, though with difficulty and many intervals, her +literary avocations. When necessitated by pain and languor to limit her +exertions, her unfeeling employers accused her of negligence. This +inconsideration, though she seldom complained, affected her spirits and +preyed upon her heart. As she hourly declined toward that asylum where +"the weary rest," her mind seemed to acquire strength in proportion to +the weakness of her frame. When no longer able to support the fatigue of +being removed from her chamber, she retained a perfect composure of +spirits, and, in the intervals of extreme bodily suffering, would listen +while her daughter read to her, with apparent interest and collectedness +of thought, frequently making observations on what would probably take +place when she had passed that "bourn whence no traveller returns." The +flattering nature of her disorder at times inspired her friends with the +most sanguine hopes of her restoration to health; she would even +herself, at intervals, cherish the idea. But these gleams of hope, like +flashes of lightning athwart the storm, were succeeded by a deeper +gloom, and the consciousness of her approaching fate returned upon the +mind of the sufferer with increased conviction. +</p> +<p> +Within a few days of her decease, she collected and arranged her +poetical works, which she bound her daughter, by a solemn adjuration, to +publish for her subscribers, and also the present memoir. Requesting +earnestly that the papers prepared for the latter purpose might be +brought to her, she gave them into the hands of Miss Robinson, with an +injunction that the narrative should be made public, adding, "I should +have continued it up to the present time—but perhaps it is as well that +I have been prevented. Promise me that you will print it!" The request +of a dying parent, so made, and at such a moment, could not be refused. +She is obeyed. Upon the solemn assurances of her daughter, that her Last +desire, so strongly urged, should be complied with, the mind of Mrs. +Robinson became composed and tranquil; her intellects yet remained +unimpaired, though her corporeal strength hourly decayed. +</p> +<p> +A short time previous to her death, during an interval of her daughter's +absence from her chamber, she called an attending friend, whose +benevolent heart and unremitting kindness will, it is hoped, meet +hereafter with their reward, and entreated her to observe her last +requests, adding, with melancholy tenderness, "I cannot talk to my poor +girl on these sad subjects." Then, with an unruffled manner and minute +precision, she gave orders respecting her interment, which she desired +might be performed with all possible simplicity. "Let me," said she, +with an impressive though almost inarticulate voice, "be buried in Old +Windsor churchyard." For the selection of that spot she gave a +particular reason. She also mentioned an undertaker, whose name she +recollected having seen on his door, and whom she appointed from his +vicinity to the probable place of her decease. A few trifling memorials, +as tributes of her affection, were all the property she had to bequeath. +She also earnestly desired that a part of her hair might be sent to two +particular persons. +</p> +<p> +One evening, her anxious nurses, with a view to divert her mind, talked +of some little plans to take place on her restoration to health. She +shook her head with an affecting and significant motion. "Don't deceive +yourselves," said she; "remember, I tell you, I am but a very little +time longer for this world." Then pressing to her heart her daughter, +who knelt by her bedside, she held her head for some minutes clasped +against her bosom, which throbbed, as with some internal and agonising +conflict. "Poor heart," murmured she, in a deep and stifled tone, "what +will become of thee!" She paused some moments, and at length, struggling +to assume more composure, desired in a calmer voice that some one would +read to her. Throughout the remainder of the evening she continued +placidly and even cheerfully attentive to the person who read, observing +that, should she recover, she designed to commence a long work, upon +which she would bestow great pains and time. "Most of her writings," she +added, "had been composed in too much haste." +</p> +<p> +Her disorder rapidly drawing toward a period, the accumulation of the +water upon her chest every moment threatened suffocation. For nearly +fifteen nights and days she was obliged to be supported upon pillows, or +in the arms of her young and affectionate nurses.[<a href="#note-53">53</a>] Her decease, +through this period, was hourly expected. On the 24th of December she +inquired how near was Christmas Day! Being answered, "Within a few +days," "Yet," said she, "I shall never see it." The remainder of this +melancholy day passed in undescribable tortures. Toward midnight, the +sufferer exclaimed, "O God, O just and merciful God, help me to support +this agony!" The whole of the ensuing day she continued to endure great +anguish. In the evening a kind of lethargic stupor came on. Miss +Robinson, approaching the pillow of her expiring mother, earnestly +conjured her to speak, if in her power. "My darling Mary!" she faintly +articulated, and spoke no more. In another hour she became insensible to +the grief of those by whom she was surrounded, and breathed her last at +a quarter past twelve on the following noon. +</p> +<p> +The body was opened, at the express wish of Doctors Pope and Chandler. +The immediate cause of her death appeared to have been a dropsy on the +chest; but the sufferings which she endured previously to her decease +were probably occasioned by six large gall-stones found in the +gall-bladder. +</p> +<p> +All her requests were strictly observed. Her remains were deposited, +according to her direction, in the churchyard of Old Windsor; the spot +was marked out by a friend to whom she had signified her wishes. The +funeral was attended only by two literary friends. +</p> +<p> +Respecting the circumstances of the preceding narrative, every reader +must be left to form his own reflections. To the humane mind, the errors +of the unfortunate subject of this memoir will appear to have been more +than expiated by her sufferings. Nor will the peculiar disadvantages, by +which her introduction into life was attended, be forgotten by the +candid,—disadvantages that, by converting into a snare the bounties +lavished on her by nature, proved not less fatal to her happiness than +to her conduct. On her unhappy marriage, and its still more unhappy +consequences, it is unnecessary to comment. Thus circumstanced, her +genius, her sensibility, and her beauty combined to her destruction, +while, by her exposed situation, her inexperience of life, her tender +youth, with the magnitude of the temptations which beset her, she could +scarcely fail of being betrayed. +</p> +<pre> + "Say, ye severest ... + ... what would you have done?" +</pre> +<p> +The malady which seized her in the bloom of youth, and pursued her with +unmitigable severity through every stage of life, till, in the prune of +her powers, it laid her in a premature grave, exhibits, in the history +of its progress, a series of sufferings that might disarm the sternest, +soften the most rigid, and awaken pity in the hardest heart. Her mental +exertions through this depressing disease, the elasticity of her mind, +and the perseverance of her efforts amidst numberless sources of +vexation and distress, cannot fail, while they awaken sympathy, to +extort admiration. Had this lovely plant, now withered and low in the +dust, been in its early growth transplanted into a happier +soil—sheltered from the keen blasts of adversity, and the mildew of +detraction, it might have extended its roots, unfolded its blossoms, +diffused its sweetness, shed its perfumes, and still flourished, +beauteous to the eye, and grateful to the sense. +</p> +<p> +To represent the character of the individual in the circumstances of +life, his conduct under those circumstances and the consequences which +they ultimately produce, is the peculiar province of biography. Little +therefore remains to be added. The benevolent temper, the filial piety +and the maternal tenderness of Mrs. Robinson are exemplified in the +preceding pages, as her genius, her talents, the fertility of her +imagination, and the powers of her mind are displayed in her +productions, the popularity of which at least affords a presumption of +their merit. Her manners were polished and conciliating, her powers of +conversation rich and varied. The brilliancy of her wit and the sallies +of her fancy were ever tempered by kindness and chastened by delicacy. +Though accustomed to the society of the great, and paying to rank the +tribute which civil institutions have rendered its due, she reserved her +esteem and deference for these only whose talents or whose merits +claimed the homage of the mind. +</p> +<p> +With the unfortunate votaries of letters she sincerely sympathised, and +not unfrequently has been known to divide the profits of her genius with +the less successful or less favoured disciples of the muse. +</p> +<p> +The productions of Mrs. Robinson, both in prose and verse, are numerous, +and of various degrees of merit; but to poetry the native impulse of her +genius appears to have been more peculiarly directed. Of the glitter and +false taste exhibited in the Della Crusca correspondence[<a href="#note-54">54</a>] she became +early sensible; several of her poems breathe a spirit of just sentiment +and simple elegance. +</p> + +<hr> + +<a name="chapter3"></a> +<h2>JANE, DUCHESS OF GORDON</h2> + +<center> +A PASTORAL ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF MRS. ROBINSON<br> +<br> +BY PETER PINDAR +</center> + +<pre> + Farewell to the nymph of my heart! + Farewell to the cottage and vine! + From these, with a tear, I depart, + Where pleasure so often was mine. + + Remembrance shall dwell on her smile, + And dwell on her lute and her song; + That sweetly my hours to beguile, + Oft echoed the valleys along. + + Once more the fair scene let me view, + The grotto, the brook, and the grove. + Dear valleys, for ever adieu! + Adieu to the daughter of Love! +</pre> + +<h2>JANE, DUTCHESS OF GORDON</h2> + +<p> +"Few women," says Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, "have performed a more +conspicuous part, or occupied a higher place on the public theatre of +fashion, politics, and dissipation, than the Duchess of Gordon." +</p> +<p> +Jane, afterward Duchess of Gordon, the rival in beauty and talent to +Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, was born in Wigtonshire, in Scotland. +Her father, Sir William Maxwell of Monreith (anciently Mureith), +represented one of the numerous families who branched off from the +original stock—Herbert of Caerlaverock, first Lord Maxwell, the +ancestor of the famous Earl of Nithsdale, whose countess, Winifred, +played so noble a part when her husband was in prison during the +Jacobite insurrection. From this honourable house descended, in our +time, the gallant Sir Murray Maxwell, whose daughter, Mrs. Carew, became +the wife of the too well-known Colonel Waugh; the events which followed +are still fresh in the public mind. Until that blemish, loyalty, honour, +and prosperity marked out the Maxwells of Monreith for "their own." In +1681, William Maxwell was created a baronet of Nova Scotia. Various +marriages and intermarriages with old and noble families kept the blood +pure, a circumstance as much prized by the Scotch as by the Germans. Sir +William, the father of the Duchess of Gordon, married Magdalene, the +daughter of William Blair, of Blair, and had by her six children,—three +sons and three daughters,—of whom the youngest but one was Jane, the +subject of this memoir. +</p> +<p> +This celebrated woman was a true Scotchwoman—staunch to her +principles, proud of her birth, energetic, and determined. Her energy +might have died away like a flash in the pan had it not been for her +determination. She carried through everything that she attempted; and +great personal charms accelerated her influence in that state of society +in which, as in the French capital, women had, at that period, an +astonishing though transient degree of ascendency. +</p> +<p> +The attractions of Jane Maxwell appeared to have been developed early, +for before she entered on the gay world, a song, "Jenny of Monreith," +was composed in her honour, which her son, the Duke of Gordon, used to +sing, long after the charms, which were thus celebrated, had vanished. +Her features were regular; the contour of her face was truly noble; her +hair was dark, as well as her eyes and eyebrows; her face long and +beautifully oval; the chin somewhat too long; the upper lip was short, +and the mouth, notwithstanding a certain expression of determination, +sweet and well defined. Nothing can be more becoming to features of this +stamp, that require softening, than the mode of dressing the hair then +general. Sir Joshua Reynolds has painted the Duchess of Gordon with her +dark hair drawn back, in front, over a cushion, or some support that +gave it waviness; round and round the head, between each rich mass, were +two rows of large pearls, until, at the top, they were lost in the folds +of a ribbon; a double row of pearls round the fair neck; a ruff, opening +low in front, a tight bodice, and sleeves full to an extreme at the top, +tighter toward the wrists, seem to indicate that the dress of the period +of Charles I had even been selected for this most lovely portrait. The +head is turned aside—with great judgment—probably to mitigate the +decided expression of the face when in a front view. +</p> +<p> +As she grew up, however, the young lady was found to be deficient in one +especial grace—she was not feminine; her person, her mind, her manners, +all, in this respect, corresponded. "She might," says one who knew her, +"have aptly represented Homer's Juno." Always animated, with features +that were constantly in play, one great charm was wanting—that of +sensibility. Sometimes her beautiful face was overclouded with anger; +more frequently was it irradiated with smiles. Her conversation, too, +annihilated much of the impression made by her commanding beauty. She +despised the usages of the world, and, believing herself exempted from +them by her rank, after she became a duchess, she dispensed with them, +and sacrificed to her venal ambition some of the most lovable qualities +of her sex. One of her speeches, when honours became, as she thought, +too common at court, betrays her pride and her coarseness. "Upon my +word," she used to say, "one cannot look out of one's coach window +without spitting on a knight." Whatever were her defects, her beauty +captivated the fancy of Alexander, the fourth Duke of Gordon, a young +man of twenty-four years of age, whom she married on the 28th of +October, 1767. The family she entered, as well as the family whence she +sprang, were devoted adherents of the exiled Stuarts, and carried, to a +great extent, the hereditary Toryism of their exalted lineage. The +great-grandmother of the duke was that singular Duchess of Gordon who +sent a medal to the Faculty of Advocates in Edinburgh, with the head of +James Stuart the Chevalier on one side, and on the other the British +Isles, with the word "Reddite" inscribed underneath. The Faculty were +highly gratified by this present. After a debate, they accepted the +medal, and sent two of their body to thank the duchess, and to say that +they hoped she would soon be enabled to favour the society with a second +medal on the Restoration. Duke Alexander, the husband of Jane Maxwell, +showed in his calm and inert character no evidence of being descended +from this courageous partisan. He was a man of no energy, except in his +love of country pursuits, and left the advancement of the family +interests wholly to his spirited and ambitious wife. They were married +only six years after George III had succeeded to the throne. Never was a +court more destitute of amusements than that of the then youthful +sovereign of England. Until his latter days, George II. had enjoyed +revelries, though of a slow, formal, German character; but his grandson +confined himself, from the age of twenty-two, to his public and private +duties. He neither frequented masquerades nor joined in play. The +splendours of a court were reserved for birthdays, and for those alone; +neither did the king usually sit down to table with the nobility or with +his courtiers. Never was he known to be guilty of the slightest excess +at table, and his repasts were simple, if not frugal. At a levee, or on +the terrace at Windsor, or in the circle of Hyde Park, this model of a +worthy English gentleman might be seen, either with his plain-featured +queen on his arm, or driven in his well-known coach with his old and +famous cream-coloured horses. Junius derided the court, "where," he +said, "prayers are morality and kneeling is religion." But although +wanting in animation, it was far less reprehensible than that which +preceded or that which followed it. The Duchess of Gordon, +irreproachable in conduct, with her high Tory principles, was well +suited to a court over which Lord Bute exercised a strong influence. She +had naturally a calculating turn of mind. Fame, admiration, fashion, +were agreeable trifles, but wealth and rank were the solid aims to which +every effort was directed. Unlike her future rival, the Duchess of +Devonshire, who impoverished herself in her boundless charities, the +Duchess of Gordon kept in view the main chance, and resolved from her +early youth to aggrandise the family into which she had entered. +</p> +<p> +Her empire as a wit was undisputed, for the Duchess of Devonshire was +then a mere girl, at her mother's knee; but that for beauty was disputed +by Mary, Duchess of Rutland, so well remembered in our own time, as she +survived till 1831. +</p> +<p> +This exquisite specimen of English loveliness, compared by some to +Musidora, as described by Thomson, was the most beautiful woman of rank +in the kingdom. Every turn of her features, every form of her limbs, was +perfect, and grace accompanied every movement. She was tall, of the just +height; slender, but not thin; her features were delicate and noble; and +her ancestors, the Plantagenets, were in her represented by a faultless +sample of personal attributes. She was the daughter of a race which has +given to the world many heroes, one philosopher, and several celebrated +beauties—that of Somerset; and, as the descendant of the defenders of +Raglan Castle, might be expected to combine various noble qualities with +personal gifts. But she was cold, although a coquette. In the Duchess of +Devonshire it was the <i>besoin d'aimer</i>, the cordial nature recoiled into +itself from being linked to an expletive, that betrayed her into an +encouragement of what offered her the semblance of affection—into the +temptation of being beloved. To the Duchess of Gordon her conquests were +enhanced by the remembrance of what they might bring; but the Duchess of +Rutland viewed her admirers in the light of offering tributes to a +goddess. She was destitute of the smiles, the intelligence, and +sweetness of the Duchess of Devonshire; and conscious of charms, +received adoration as her due. "In truth," Sir Nathanial Wraxall, who +knew her well, writes, "I never contemplated her except as an enchanting +statue, formed to excite admiration rather than to awaken love, this +superb production of nature not being lighted up by corresponding mental +attractions." +</p> +<p> +This lady was united to one of the most attractive and popular of men, +but one of the most imprudent and convivial. The son of that celebrated +Marquis of Granby whom Junius attacked, the young Duke of Rutland was a +firm partisan of Pitt, whom he first brought into the House of Commons, +and at whose wish he accepted the government of Ireland in 1784. Never +was there such splendour at the vice-regal court as in his time. Vessels +laden with the expensive luxuries from England were seen in the Bay of +Dublin at short intervals; the banquets given were most costly; the +evenings at the castle were divided between play and drinking; and yet +the mornings found the young duke breakfasting on six or seven turkey's +eggs. He then, when on his progress, rode forty or fifty miles, returned +to dinner at seven, and sat up to a late hour, supping before he +retired to rest. +</p> +<p> +The duchess had little place in his heart, and the siren, Mrs. +Billington, held it in temporary thraldom; but constancy was to a man of +such a calibre impossible. Nevertheless, when the duke saw his wife +surrounded by admirers, whom her levity of manner encouraged, he became +jealous, and they parted, for the last time as it proved, on bad terms. +One evening, seeing him engaged in play, the duchess approached the +window of the room in which he sat, and tapped at it. He was highly +incensed by this interference with his amusements. She returned to +England, an invalid, in order to consult Doctor Warren, the father of +the late physician of that name. Whilst residing with her mother in +Berkeley Square, she heard that the duke was attacked with fever. She +sent off Doctor Warren to see him, and was preparing to follow him when +the physician returned. At Holyhead he had heard that the duke was no +more. He died at the early age of thirty-three, his blood having been +inflamed by his intemperance, which, however, never affected his reason, +and was, therefore, the more destructive to his health. His widow, in +spite of their alienation, mourned long and deeply. Never did she appear +more beautiful than when, in 1788, she reappeared after her seclusion. +Like Diana of Poictiers, she retained her wonderful loveliness to an +advanced age. Latterly, she covered her wrinkles with enamel, and when +she appeared in public always quitted a room in which the windows, which +might admit the dampness, were opened. She never married again, +notwithstanding the various suitors who desired to obtain her hand. +</p> +<p> +For a long time the Duchess of Gordon continued to reign over the Tory +party almost without a rival. When, at last, the Duchess of Devonshire +came forward as the female champion of the Foxites, Pitt and Dundas, +afterward Lord Melville, opposed to her the Duchess of Gordon. At that +time she lived in the splendid mansion of the then Marquis of Buckingham +in Pall Mall. Every evening, numerous assemblies of persons attached to +the administration gathered in those stately saloons, built upon or near +the terrace whereon Nell Gwyn used to chat with Charles II on the grass +below, as he was going to feed his birds in his gardens. Presuming on +her rank, her influence, her beauty, the Duchess of Gordon used to act +in the most determined manner as a government whipper-in. When a member +on whom she counted was wanting, she did not scruple to send for him, to +remonstrate, to persuade, to fix him by a thousand arts. Strange must +have been the scene—more strange than attractive. Everything was +forgotten but the one grand object of the evening, the theme of all +talk,—the next debate and its supporters. In the year 1780 events took +place which for some time appeared likely to shake the prosperity of the +Gordon family almost to its fall. +</p> +<p> +The duke had two brothers, the elder of whom, Lord William, was the +Ranger of Windsor Park, and survived to a great age. The younger, Lord +George, holds a very conspicuous but not a very creditable place in the +annals of his country. No event in our history bears any analogy with +that styled the "Gordon Riots," excepting the fire of London in the +reign of Charles II; and even that calamity did not exhibit the mournful +spectacle which attended the conflagrations of 1780. In the former +instance, the miserable sufferers had to contend only with a devouring +element; in the latter, they had to seek protection, and to seek it in +vain, from a populace of the lowest description, and the vilest +purposes, who carried with them destruction wherever they went. Even +during the French Revolution, revolting and degrading as it was, the +firebrand was not employed in the work of destruction; the public and +private buildings of Paris were spared. +</p> +<p> +The author of all these calamities, Lord George Gordon, was a young man +of gentle, agreeable manners, and delicate, high-bred appearance. His +features were regular and pleasing; he was thin and pale, but with a +cunning, sinister expression in his face that indicated +wrong-headedness. He was dependent on his elder brother, the duke, for +his maintenance, six hundred pounds a year being allowed him by his +Grace. Such was the exterior, such the circumstances of an incendiary +who has been classed with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade, or with Kett, the +delinquent in the time of Edward VI. +</p> +<p> +It was during the administration of Lord North that the Cordon Riots +took place, excited by the harangues and speeches of Lord George. On the +2d of June he harangued the people; on the 7th these memorable +disturbances broke out; Bloomsbury Square was the first point of attack. +In Pope's time this now neglected square was fashionable: +</p> +<pre> + "In Palace Yard, at nine, you'll find me there; + At ten, for certain, sir, in Bloomsbury Square." +</pre> +<p> +Baxter, the Nonconformist, and Sir Hans Sloane once inhabited what was, +in their time, called Southampton Square, from Southampton House, which +occupied one whole side of Bloomsbury Square, and was long the abode of +Lady Rachel Russell, after the execution of her lord. Like every other +part of what may be called "Old London," it is almost sanctified by the +memories of the lettered and the unfortunate. But the glory of +Bloomsbury Square was, in those days, the house of Lord Mansfield, at +the north end of the east side; in which that judge had collected many +valuables, among which his library was the dearest to his heart; it was +the finest legal library of his time. As soon as the long summer's day +had closed, and darkness permitted the acts of violence to be fully +recognised, Hart Street and Great Russell Street were illuminated by +large fires, composed of the furniture taken from the houses of certain +magistrates. Walking into Bloomsbury, the astounded observer of that +night's horrors saw, with consternation, the hall door of Lord +Mansfield's house broken open; and instantly all the contents of the +various apartments were thrown into the square, and set on fire. In vain +did a small body of foot-soldiers attempt to intimidate the rioters. The +whole of the house was consumed, and vengeance would have fallen on Lord +Mansfield and his lady had they not escaped by a back door a few minutes +before the hall was broken into; such was that memorable act of +destruction—so prompt, so complete. Let us follow the mob, in fancy, +and leaving the burning pile in Bloomsbury Square, track the steps of +the crowd into Holborn. We remember, as we are hurried along, with a +bitter feeling, that Holborn was the appointed road for criminals from +Newgate to Tyburn. It is now one blaze of light; in the hollow near +Fleet Market, the house and warehouses of Mr. Langdale, a Catholic—a +Christian like ourselves, though not one of our own blessed and reformed +church—is blazing; a pinnacle of flame, like a volcano, is sent up into +the air. St. Andrew's Church is almost scorched with the heat; whilst +the figures of the clock—that annalist which numbers, as it stands, the +hours of guilt—are plain as at noonday. The gutters beneath, catching +here and there gleams of the fiery heavens, run with spirituous liquors +from the plundered distilleries; the night is calm, as if no deeds of +persecution sullied its beauty; at times it is obscured by volumes of +smoke, but they pass away, and the appalled spectators of the street +below are plainly visible. Here stands a mother with an infant in her +arms looking on; there, a father, leading his boy to the safest point of +observation. We wonder at their boldness; but it is the direst sign of +affright—in their homes they are insecure—everywhere, anywhere, the +ruthless unseen hand may cast the brand, and all may perish. At this +early hour there seemed to be no ringleader—no pillage; it appeared +difficult to conceive who could be the wretch who instigated, who +directed this awful riot; but, at the windows, men were seen calmly +tearing away pictures from the walls; furniture, books, plate, from +their places, and throwing them into the flames. As midnight drew near, +the ferocious passions of the multitude were heightened by ardent +spirits; not a soldier, either horse or foot, is visible. "Whilst we +stood," says an eye-witness, "by the wall of St. Andrew's churchyard, a +watchman, with his lanthorn in his hand, passed on, calling the hour as +if in a time of profound security." +</p> +<p> +Meantime, the King's Bench Prison was enveloped in flames; the Mansion +House and the Bank were attacked. But the troops were killing and +dispersing the rioters on Blackfriars Bridge; a desperate conflict +between the horse and the mob was going on near the Bank. What a night! +The whole city seemed to be abandoned to pillage—to destruction. +Shouts, yells, the shrieks of women, the crackling of the burning +houses, the firing of platoons toward St. George's Fields, combined to +show that no horrors, no foes are equal to those of domestic treachery, +domestic persecution, domestic fury, and infatuation. +</p> +<p> +It was not alone the Roman Catholics who were threatened. Sir George +Savile's house in Leicester Square—once the peaceful locality in which +Dorothy Sydney, Waller's "Sacharissa," bloomed—was plundered and +burned. Then the Duchess of Devonshire took fright, and did not venture +to stay at Devonshire House for many nights after dusk, but took refuge +at Lord Clermont's in Berkeley Square, sleeping on a sofa in the +drawing-room. In Downing Street, Lord North was dining with a party his +brother, Colonel North, Mr. Eden, afterward Lord Auckland, the +Honourable John St. John, General Fraser, and Count Malzen, the Prussian +minister. The little square then surrounding Downing Street was filled +with the mob. "Who commands the upper story?" said Lord North. "I do," +answered Colonel North; "and I have twenty or thirty grenadiers well +armed, who are ready to fire on the first notice." +</p> +<p> +"If your grenadiers fire," said Mr. Eden, calmly, "they will probably +fire into my house just opposite." +</p> +<p> +The mob was now threatening; every moment the peril was increasing. Mr. +St. John held a pistol in his hand; and Lord North, who never could +forbear cutting a joke, said, "I am not half so much afraid of the mob +as of Jack St. John's pistol." By degrees, however, the crowd, seeing +that the house was well guarded, dispersed, and the gentlemen quietly +sat down again to their wine until late in the evening, when they all +ascended to the top of the house, and beheld the capital blazing. It was +here that the first suggestion of a coalition between Lord North and +Fox, to save the country and themselves, was started, and afterward +perfected behind the scenes of the Opera House in the Haymarket. During +this memorable night George III, behaved with the courage which, +whatever their failings, has ever highly distinguished the Hanoverian +family. By the vigorous measures, late indeed, but not too late, which +he acceded to at the Council, London was saved. But the popular fury had +extended to other towns. Bath was in tumult; a new Roman Catholic chapel +there was burned. Mrs. Thrale, hearing that her house at Streatham had +been threatened, caused it to be emptied of its furniture. Three times +was Mrs. Thrale's town house attacked; her valuables and furniture were +removed thence also; and she deemed it prudent to leave Bath, into which +coaches, chalked over with "No Popery," were hourly driving. The +composure with which the rioters did their work seemed to render the +scene more fearful, as they performed these acts of violence as if they +were carrying out a religious duty rather than deeds of +execrable hatred. +</p> +<p> +It was not until two or three days after tranquillity had been restored +that Lord George Gordon was apprehended. Ministers were justly +reproached for not having sent him to the Tower on the 2d of June, when +he had assembled and excited the mob to extort compliance with their +wishes from the House of Commons. Such a step, when the House was +surrounded by multitudes, and when, every moment, it was expected that +the door would be broken open, would have been hazardous; had that +occurred, Lord George would have suffered instant death. General Murray, +afterward Duke of Atholl, held his sword ready to pass it through Lord +George's body the instant the mob rushed in. The Earl of Carnarvon, the +grandfather of the present earl, followed him closely with the +same intent. +</p> +<p> +The indignation of the insulted Commons was extreme, and the distress +and displeasure of Lord George's own family doubtless excessive. The +House of Commons had never been thus insulted before. It is difficult to +determine what could be Lord George's motives for the conduct which led +to these awful results, during the whole of which he preserved a +composure that bordered on insensibility; he was a perfect master of +himself whilst the city was in flames. Much may be laid to fanaticism, +and the mental derangement which it either produced or evinced. When too +late he tried in vain to abate the fury he had excited, and offered to +take his stand by Lord Rodney's[<a href="#note-55">55</a>] side when the Bank was attacked, to +aid that officer, who commanded the Guards, in its defence. +</p> +<p> +Lord George then lived in Weibeck Street, Cavendish Square, and +tradition assigns as his house that now occupied by Mr. Newby, the +publisher, No. 30, and for many years the house of Count Woronzoff, the +Russian ambassador, who died there. Lord George there prepared for his +defence, which was entrusted to the great Erskine, then in his prime, +or, as he was called in caricatures, with which the shops were full, +from his extreme vanity, <i>Counsellor Ego</i>. In February, 1781, the trial +took place, and Lord George was acquitted. He retired to Birmingham, +became a Jew, and lived in that faith, or under the delusion that he did +so. The hundreds who perished from his folly or insanity were avenged in +his subsequent imprisonment in Newgate for a libel on Marie Antoinette, +of which he was convicted. He died a very few years after the riots of +1780, in Newgate, generally condemned, and but little compassionated. +</p> +<p> +It appears from the letters addressed by Doctor Beanie to the Duchess of +Gordon, that she was not in London during the riots of June, 1780. The +poet had been introduced to her by Sir William Forbes, and frequently +visited Gordon Castle. We find him, whilst London was blazing, sending +thither a parcel of <i>Mirrors</i>, the fashionable journal, "Count Fathom," +"The Tale of a Tub," and the fanciful, forgotten romance by Bishop +Berkeley, "Gaudentio di Lucca," to amuse her solitude. "'Gaudentio,'" he +writes, "will amuse you, though there are tedious passages in it. The +whole description of passing the deserts of Africa is particularly +excellent." It is singular that this dream of Bishop Berkeley's of a +country fertile and delicious in the centre of Africa should have been +almost realised in our own time by the discoveries of Doctor +Livingstone. +</p> +<p> +To his present of books, Doctor Beattie added a flask of whisky, which +he sealed with his usual seal, "The three graces, whom I take to be your +Grace's near relations, as they have the honour, not only to bear one of +your titles, but also to resemble you exceedingly in form, feature, and +manner. If you had lived three thousand years ago, which I am very glad +you did not, there would have been four of them, and you the first. May +all happiness attend your Grace!" +</p> +<p> +This graceful piece of adulation was followed by a tender concern for +"her Grace's" health. A sportive benediction was offered whilst the +duchess was at Glenfiddick, a hunting seat in the heart of the Grampian +Hills—a wild, sequestered spot, of which Doctor Beattie was +particularly fond. +</p> +<p> +"I rejoice in the good weather, in the belief that it extends to +Glenfiddick, where I pray that your Grace may enjoy all the health and +happiness that good air, goats' whey, romantic solitude, and the society +of the loveliest children in the world can bestow. May your days be +clear sunshine; and may a gentle rain give balm to your nights, that the +flowers and birch-trees may salute you in the morning with all their +fragrance! May the kids frisk and play tricks before you with unusual +sprightliness; and may the song of birds, the hum of bees, and the +distant waterfall, with now and then the shepherd's horn resounding from +the mountains, entertain you with a full chorus of Highland music! My +imagination had parcelled out the lovely little glen into a thousand +little paradises; in the hope of being there, and seeing everyday in +that solitude, what is</p> +<pre> + 'Fairer than famed of old, or fabled since, + Of fairy damsels, met in forests wide + By errant knights.' +</pre> +<p> +But the information you received at Cluny gave a check to my fancy, and +was indeed a great disappointment to Mrs. Beattie and me; not on account +of the goats' whey, but because it keeps us so long at such a distance +from your Grace." +</p> +<p> +When at Gordon Castle, the duchess occupied herself with pursuits that +elevated whilst they refreshed her mind. She promised Doctor Beattie to +send him the history of a day. Her day seems to have been partly engaged +in the instruction of her five daughters, and in an active +correspondence and reading. It is difficult to imagine this busy, +flattered woman reading Blair's sermons—which had then been recently +published—to her family on Sundays; or the duke, whom Doctor Beattie +describes as "more astronomical than ever," engrossed from morning to +night in making calculations with Mr. Copland, Professor of Astronomy in +Marischal College, Aberdeen. Beattie's letters to the duchess, although +too adulatory, were those of a man who respects the understanding of the +woman to whom he writes. The following anecdotes, the one relating to +Hume, the other to Handel, are in his letters to the Duchess of Gordon, +and they cannot be read without interest. +</p> +<p> +"Mr. Hume was boasting to the doctor (Gregory) that among his disciples +he had the honour to reckon many of the fair sex. 'Now tell me,' said +the doctor, 'whether, if you had a wife or a daughter, you would wish +them to be your disciples? Think well before you answer me; for I assure +you that whatever your answer is, I will not conceal it.' Mr. Hume, with +a smile and some hesitation, made this reply: 'No; I believe skepticism +may be too sturdy a virtue for a woman.' Miss Gregory will certainly +remember she has heard her father tell this story." +</p> +<p> +Again, about Handel: +</p> +<p> +"I lately heard two anecdotes, which deserve to be put in writing, and +which you will be glad to hear. When Handel's 'Messiah' was first +performed, the audience were exceedingly struck and affected by the +music in general; but when the chorus struck up, 'For the Lord God +Omnipotent reigneth,' they were so transported that they all, together +with the king (who happened to be present), started up, and remained +standing till the chorus ended; and hence it became the fashion in +England for the audience to stand while that part of the music is +performing. Some days after the first exhibition of the same divine +oratorio, Mr. Handel came to pay his respects to Lord Kinnoul, with whom +he was particularly acquainted. His lordship, as was natural, paid him +some compliments on the noble entertainment which he had lately given +the town. 'My lord,' said Handel, 'I should be sorry if I only +entertained them—I wish to make them better.'" +</p> +<p> +Beattie's happiest hours are said to have been passed at Gordon Castle, +with those whose tastes, in some respects differing from his own, he +contributed to form; whilst he was charmed with the beauty, the wit, the +cultivated intellect of the duchess, and he justly appreciated her +talents and virtues. Throughout a friendship of years her kindness +was unvaried;</p> +<pre> + "Ne'er ruffled by those cataracts and breaks + Which humour interposed too often makes." +</pre> + +<p> +The duchess felt sincerely for poor Beattie's domestic sorrows; for the +peculiarities of his wife, whom he designated as "nervous;" for the +early death of his son, in whom all the poet's affections were bound up, +and to whose welfare every thought of his was directed. +</p> +<p> +One would gladly take one's impressions of the Duchess of Gordon's +character from Beattie, rather than from the pen of political writers, +who knew her but as a partisan. The duchess, according to Beattie, was +feelingly alive to every fine impulse; demonstrative herself, detesting +coldness in others; the life of every party; the consoling friend of +every scene of sorrow; a compound of sensibility and vivacity, of +strength and softness. This is not the view that the world took of her +character. Beattie always quitted Gordon Castle "with sighs and tears." +It is much to have added to the transient gleams of happiness enjoyed by +so good and so afflicted a man. "I cannot think," he wrote, when under +the pressure of dreaded calamity—that of seeing his wife insane; "I am +too much agitated and <i>distrait</i> (as Lord Chesterfield would say) to +read anything that is not very desultory; I cannot play at cards; I +could never learn to smoke; and my musical days are over. My first +excursion, if ever I make any, must be to Gordon Castle." +</p> +<p> +There he found what is indispensable to such a man—congeniality. +Amusement was not what he required; it was soothing. It was in the +duchess's presence that he wrote the following "Lines to a Pen:"</p> +<pre> + "Go, and be guided by the brightest eyes, + And to the softest hand thine aid impart; + To trace the fair ideas as they arise, + Warm from the purest, gentlest, noblest heart;" +</pre> +<p> +lines in which the praise is worth more than the poetry. The duchess +sent him a copy by Smith of her portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, a +picture to which reference has been already made. +</p> +<p> +In 1782 the duchess grieved for the death of Lord Kaimes, for whom she +had a sincere friendship, although the religious opinions of that +celebrated man differed greatly from those of Beattie. Lord Kaimes was +fifty-six years an author, in company with the eccentric Lord Monboddo, +the author of the theory that men have had tails. Lord Kaimes passed +some days at Gordon Castle shortly before his death. Monboddo and he +detested each other, and squabbled incessantly. Lord Kaimes understood +no Greek; and Monboddo, who was as mad and as tiresome about Greek and +Aristotle, and as absurd and peculiar on that score as Don Quixote was +about chivalry, told him that without understanding Greek he could not +write a page of good English. Their arguments must have been highly +diverting. Lord Kaimes, on his death-bed, left a remembrance to the +Duchess of Gordon, who had justly appreciated him, and defended him from +the charge of skepticism. Lord Monboddo compared the duchess to Helen of +Troy, whom he asserted to have been seven feet high; but whether in +stature, in beauty, or in the circumstances of her life, does +not appear. +</p> +<p> +The happiness of the duchess was perfected by the blessings granted to +her in her family. In 1770 the birth of her eldest son George, long +beloved in Scotland whilst the Marquis of Huntley, took place. Doctor +Beattie describes him as "the best and most beautiful boy that ever was +born." He proved to be one of the most popular of the young nobility of +that period. Doctor Beattie strongly advised the duchess to engage an +English tutor, a clergyman, for him, recommended either by the +Archbishop of York, or by the Provost of Eton. When it afterward became +a question whether the young heir should go to Oxford or to Cambridge, +the doctor, who seems to have been a universal authority, allowed that +Cambridge was the best for a man of study, whilst Oxford had more dash +and spirit in it: so little are matters altered since that time. +</p> +<p> +Fifteen years appear to have elapsed before the birth of a second son, +Alexander. Both these scions of this ducal house became military men: +the young marquis was colonel of the Scots Fusileer Guards, and served +in the Peninsular war, and was eventually Governor of Edinburgh Castle. +Long was he remembered by many a brother officer, many an old soldier, +as a gallant, courteous, gay-hearted man; with some of the faults and +all the virtues of the military character. He married late in life +Elizabeth, daughter of Alexander Brodie, Esq., of Arnhall, N. B., who +survived him. Lord Alexander Cordon died unmarried; but five daughters +added to the family lustre by noble and wealthy alliances. +</p> +<p> +Wraxall remarks "that the conjugal duties of the Duchess of Gordon +pressed on her heart with less force than did her maternal solicitudes." +For their elevation she thought, indeed, no sacrifice too great, and no +efforts too laborious. In the success of her matrimonial speculations +she has been compared to Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, who numbered +among her sons-in-law two dukes and three earls. But the daughters of +the proud Sarah were, it has been observed, the children of John +Churchill, and on them were settled, successively, Blenheim and the +dukedom. The Ladies Gordon were portionless, and far less beautiful than +their mother. To her skilful diplomacy alone were these brilliant +fortunes owing. +</p> +<p> +Lady Charlotte, the eldest, was eighteen years of age when her mother +first entertained matrimonial projects for her, and chose for their +object no less a personage than Pitt, then prime minister. Her schemes +might have proved successful had not Pitt had that sure impediment to +maternal management,—a friend. This friend was the subtle Henry Dundas, +afterward Lord Melville; one of those men who, under the semblance of +unguarded manners and a free, open bearing, conceal the deepest designs +of personal aggrandisement. Governing India, governing Scotland, the +vicegerent in Edinburgh for places and pensions, Dundas was looking +forward to a peerage, and kept his eye steadily on Pitt, whom he guided +in many matters, adapting his conduct and his conversation to the +peculiar tone of the minister's mind. Flattery he never used—dictation +he carefully avoided; both would have been detrimental to his influence +with the reserved statesman. +</p> +<p> +Pitt was by no means calculated to win the affection of a blooming girl +of eighteen, who, whatever Wraxall may have thought, lived to be one of +the most beautiful and graceful women of her time. Many years ago, +during the life of Sir Thomas Lawrence, his portrait of the Duchess of +Richmond, formerly Lady Charlotte Cordon, was exhibited at Somerset +House. So exquisite were the feminine charms of that lovely face, so +elegant the form he had portrayed, that all crowded to look upon that +delineation of a woman no longer young; whilst beauties in the bloom of +youth were passed by as they hung on the walls in all the glowing +colours of girlhood. +</p> +<p> +On most intimate terms with the duchess, Pitt seems to have been touched +with the attractions of Lady Charlotte, and to have paid her some +attentions. He was one of the stiffest and shyest of men, finely formed +in figure, but plain in face; the last man to be fascinated, the last to +fascinate. Drives to Dundas's house at Wimbledon when Pitt was there; +evenings at home, in easy converse with these two politicians; suppers, +at which the premier always finished his bottle, as well as the hardier +Scotchman, failed to bring forward the reserved William Pitt. The fact +was, that Dundas could not permit any one, far less the Duchess of +Gordon, to have the ascendency over the prime minister that so near a +relationship would occasion. He trembled for his own influence. A +widower at that time,—his wife, a Miss Rennie of Melville, who had been +divorced from him, being dead,—he affected to lay his own person and +fortune at Lady Charlotte's feet. Pitt instantly retired, and the +sacrifice cost him little; and Dundas's object being answered, his +pretensions also dropped through. Two years afterward, Lady Charlotte +became the wife of Colonel Lennox, afterward Duke of Richmond, and in +the course of years the mother of fourteen children; one of whom, Henry +Adam, a midshipman, fell overboard from the <i>Blake</i> in 1812, and was +drowned. According to Wraxall, the Duke of Richmond had to pay the +penalty of what he calls "this imprudent, if not unfortunate marriage," +being banished to the snowy banks of St. Lawrence under the name +of governor. +</p> +<p> +In modern times, our young nobility of promise have learned the +important truth, ably enforced by Thomas Carlyle, that work is not only +man's appointed lot, but his highest blessing and safeguard. The rising +members of various noble families have laid this axiom to heart; and, +when not engaged in public business, have come grandly forward to +protect the unhappy, to provide for the young, to solace the old. The +name of Shaftesbury carries with it gratitude and comfort in its sound; +whilst that of him who figured of old in the cabal, the Shaftesbury of +Charles II's time, is, indeed, not forgotten, but remembered with +detestation. Ragged schools; provident schools; asylums for the aged +governess; homes in which the consumptive may lay their heads in peace +and die; asylums for the penitent; asylums for the idiot; homes where +the houseless may repose,—these are the monuments to our Shaftesbury, +to our younger sons. The mere political ascendency—the garter or the +coronet—are distinctions which pale before these, as does the moon when +dawn has touched the mountains' tops with floods of light. As lecturers +amid their own people, as the best friends and counsellors of the +indigent, as man bound to man by community of interests, our noblemen in +many instances stand before us—Catholic and Protestant zealous alike. +</p> +<p> +"Jock of Norfolk" is represented by a descendant of noble impulses. +Elgin, Carlisle, Stanley—the Bruce, the Howard, the Stanley of former +days—are our true heroes of society, men of great aims and +great powers. +</p> +<p> +The Duchess of Gordon was indefatigable in her ambition, but she could +not always entangle dukes. Her second daughter, Madelina, was married +first to Sir Robert Sinclair; and secondly, to Charles Fyshe Palmer, +Esq., of Luckley Hall, Berkshire. Lady Madelina was not handsome, but +extremely agreeable, animated, and intellectual. Among her other +conquests was the famous Samuel Parr, of Hatton, who used to delight in +sounding her praises, and recording her perfections with much of that +eloquence which is now fast dying out of remembrance, but which was a +thing <i>à part</i> in that celebrated Grecian. Susan, the third daughter of +the duke and duchess, married William, Duke of Manchester, thus becoming +connected with a descendant of John, Duke of Marlborough. +</p> +<p> +Louisa, the fourth daughter, married Charles, second Marquis Cornwallis, +and son of the justly celebrated Governor of India; and Georgiana, the +fifth and youngest, became the wife of John, the late Duke of Bedford. +</p> +<p> +Such alliances might have satisfied the ambition of most mothers; but +for her youngest and most beautiful daughter, the Duchess of Bedford, +the Duchess of Cordon had even entertained what she thought higher +views. In 1802, whilst Buonaparte was first consul, and anticipating an +imperial crown, the Duchess of Gordon visited Paris, and received there +such distinctions from Napoleon Bonaparte, then first consul, as excited +hopes in her mind of an alliance with that man whom, but a few years +previously, she would probably have termed an adventurer! +</p> +<p> +Paris was then, during the short peace, engrossed with fêtes, reviews, +and dramatic amusements, the account of which makes one almost fancy +oneself in the year 1852, that of the <i>coup d'état</i>, instead of the +period of 1802. The whirlwinds of revolution seemed then, as now, to +have left all unchanged; the character of the people, who were still +devoted to pleasure, and sanguine, was, on the surface, gay and buoyant +as ever. Buonaparte holding his levées at the Tuileries, with all the +splendour of majesty, reminds one of his nephew performing similar +ceremonies at the Élysée, previously to his assuming the purple. All +republican simplicity was abandoned, and the richest taste displayed on +public occasions in both eras. +</p> +<p> +Let us picture to ourselves the old, quaint palace of the Tuileries on a +reception day then; and the impression made on the senses will serve for +the modern drama; be it comedy, or be it tragedy, which is to be played +out in those stately rooms wherein so many actors have passed and +repassed to their doom. +</p> +<p> +It is noon, and the first consul is receiving a host of ambassadors +within the consular apartment, answering probably to the "<i>Salle des +Maréchaux</i>" of Napoleon III. Therein the envoys from every European +state are attempting to comprehend, what none could ever fathom, the +consul's mind. Let us not intermeddle with their conference, but look +around us, and view the gallery in which we are waiting until he, who +was yesterday so small, and who is to-day so great, should come forth +amongst us. +</p> +<p> +How gorgeous is the old gallery, with its many windows, its rich roof, +and gilded panels! The footmen of the first consul, in splendid +liveries, are bringing chairs for the ladies who are awaiting the +approach of that schoolmaster's son; they are waiting until the weighty +conference within is terminated. Peace-officers, superbly bedizened, are +walking up and down to keep ladies to their seats and gentlemen to the +ranks, so as to form a passage for the first consul to pass down. Pages +of the back stairs, dressed in black, and with gold chains hanging +around their necks, are standing by the door to guard it, or to open it +when he on whom all thoughts are fixed should come forth. +</p> +<p> +But what is beyond everything striking is the array of Buonaparte's +aids-de-camp,—fine fellows, war-worn,—men such as he, and he alone, +would choose; and so gorgeous, so radiant are their uniforms, that all +else seem as if in shadow in comparison. +</p> +<p> +The gardens of the Tuileries meantime are filling with troops whom the +first consul is going to review. There are now Zouaves there; but these +are men whom the suns of the tropics hate embrowned; little fellows, +many of them, of all heights, such as we might make drummers of in our +stalwart ranks; but see how muscular, active, full of fire they are; +fierce as hawks, relentless as tigers. See the horse-soldiers on their +scraggy steeds; watch their evolutions, and you will own, with a young +guardsman who stood gazing, fifty years afterward, on the troops which +followed Napoleon III into Paris, that "they are worth looking at." +</p> +<p> +The long hour is past; the pages in black are evidently on the watch; +the double door which leads into the <i>Salle des Maréchaux</i> is opened +from within; a stricter line is instantly kept by the officers in the +gallery. Fair faces, many an English one among them, are flushed. Anon +he appears, whilst an officer at the door, with one hand raised above +his head and the other extended, exclaims, "<i>Le Premier Consul</i>." +</p> +<p> +Forth he walks, a firm, short, stolid form, with falling shoulders +beneath his tight, deep-blue frock. His tread is heavy rather than +majestic,—that of a man who has a purpose in walking, not merely to +show himself as a parade. His head is large, and formed with a +perfection which we call classic; his features are noble, modelled by +that hand of Nature which framed this man "fearfully," indeed, and +"wonderfully." Nothing was ever finer than his mouth—nothing more +disappointing than his eye; it is heavy, almost mournful. His face is +pale, almost sallow, while—let one speak who beheld him—"not only in +the eye, but in every feature, care, thought, melancholy, and meditation +are strongly marked, with so much of character, nay, genius, and so +penetrating a seriousness, or rather sadness, as powerfully to sink into +an observer's mind." +</p> +<p> +It is the countenance of a student, not of a warrior; of one deep in +unpractical meditation, not of one whose every act and plan had then +been but a tissue of successes. It is the face of a man wedded to deep +thought, not of the hero of the battle-field, the ruler of assemblies; +and, as if to perfect the contrast, whilst all around is gorgeous and +blazing, he passes along without a single decoration on his plain dress, +not even a star to mark out the first consul. It is well; there can but +be one Napoleon in the world, and he wants no distinction. +</p> +<p> +He is followed by diplomatists of every European power, vassals, all, +more or less, save England; and to England, and to her sons and +daughters, are the most cherished courtesies directed. Does not that +recall the present policy? +</p> +<p> +By his side walks a handsome youth whom he has just been presenting to +the Bavarian minister,—that envoy from a strange, wild country, little +known save by the dogged valour of its mountaineers. The ruler of that +land, until now an elector, has been saluted king by Napoleon +the powerful. +</p> +<p> +On the youth, who addresses him as <i>mon pèr</i>, a slight glance is allowed +even from those downcast eyes which none may ever look into too full. +Eugène Beauharnais, his stepson, the son of his ever-loved Josephine, +has a place in that remorseless heart. "All are not evil." Is it some +inkling of the parental love, is it ambition, that causes the first +consul to be always accompanied by that handsome youth, fascinating as +his mother, libertine as his stepfather, but destitute at once of the +sensibilities of the former and of the powerful intelligence of +the latter? +</p> +<p> +It is on him—on Eugène Beauharnais—that the hopes of the proud Duchess +of Gordon rest. Happily for her whom she would willingly have given to +him as a bride, her scheme was frustrated. Such a sacrifice was +incomplete. +</p> +<p> +Look now from the windows of that gallery; let your gaze rest on the +parade below, in the Rue de Rivoli, through which Buonaparte is riding +at the head of his staff to the review. He has mounted a beautiful white +horse; his aids-de-camp are by his side, followed by his generals. He +rides on so carelessly that an ordinary judge would call him an +indifferent equestrian. He holds his bridle first in one hand, then in +another, yet he has the animal in perfect control; he can master it by a +single movement. As he presents some swords of honour, the whole bearing +and aspect of the man change. He is no longer the melancholy student; +stretching out his arm, the severe, scholastic mien assumes instantly a +military and commanding air. +</p> +<p> +Then the consular band strike up a march, and the troops follow in grand +succession toward the Champs Élysées. The crowds within the gallery +disappear; I look around me: the hedges of human beings who had been +standing back to let the hero pass, are broken, and all are hurrying +away. The pages are lounging; the aids-de-camp are gone; already is +silence creeping over that vast gallery of old historic remembrances. Do +not our hearts sink? Here, in this centre window, Marie Antoinette +showed her little son to the infuriated mob below. She stood before +unpitying eyes. Happier had it been for him, for her, had they died +then. Will those scenes, we thought, ever recur? They have—they have! +mercifully mitigated, it is true; yet ruthless hands have torn from +those walls their rich hangings. By yon door did the son of Égalité +escape. Twice has that venerable pile been desecrated. Even in 152, when +crowds hastened to the first ball given by Napoleon III., he traces of +the last revolution were pointed out to the dancers. They have darkened +the floors; all is, it is true, not only renovated, but embellished, so +as to constitute the most gorgeous of modern palaces; yet for how long? +</p> +<p> +It is, indeed, in mercy that many of our wishes are denied us. Eugène +Beauharnais was even then, destined to a bride whom he had never seen, +the eldest daughter of that Elector of Bavaria to whom Buonaparte had +given royalty; and the sister of Ludwig, the ex-King of Bavaria, was the +destined fair one. They were married; and she, at all events, was fond, +faithful, nay, even devoted. He was created Duke of Leuchtenberg, and +Marie of Leuchtenberg was beautiful, majestic, pious, graceful; but she +could not keep his heart. So fair was she, with those sweet blue eyes, +that pearl-like skin, that fine form, made to show off the <i>parures</i> of +jewels which poor Josephine bequeathed to her—so fair was she, that +when Buonaparte saw her before her bridal, he uttered these few words, +"Had I known, I would have married her myself." Still she was but +second, perhaps third, perhaps fourth ('tis a way they have in France) +in his affections; nevertheless, when he died,—and it was in his youth, +and Thorwaldsen has executed a noble monument of him in the Dom Kirche +at Munich,—when that last separation came, preceded by many a one that +had been voluntary on his part, his widow mourned, and no second bridal +ever tempted her to cancel the remembrance of Eugène Beauharnais. +</p> +<p> +For Lady Georgiana Gordon, a happier fate was reserved. She married, in +1803, John, the sixth Duke of Bedford, a nobleman whose character would +have appeared in a more resplendent light had he not succeeded a brother +singularly endowed, and whose death was considered to be a public +calamity. Of Francis, Duke of Bedford, who was summoned away in his +thirty-seventh year, Fox said: "In his friendships, not only was he +disinterested and sincere, but in him were to be found united all the +characteristic excellencies that have ever distinguished the men most +renowned for that virtue. Some are warm, but volatile and inconstant; he +was warm too, but steady and unchangeable. Where his attachment was +placed, there it remained, or rather there it grew.... If he loved you +at the beginning of the year, and you did nothing to lose his esteem, he +would love you more at the end of it; such was the uniformly progressive +state of his affections, no less than of his virtue and friendship." +</p> +<p> +John, Duke of Bedford, was a widower of thirty-seven when he married +Georgiana, remembered as the most graceful, accomplished, and charming +of women. The duke had then five sons, the youngest of whom was Lord +John Russell, and the eldest Francis, the present duke. By his second +duchess, Georgiana, the duke had also a numerous family. She survived +until 1853. The designs formed by the duchess to marry Lady Georgiana to +Pitt first, and then to Eugène Beauharnais, rest on the authority of +Wraxall, who knew the family of the Duke of Gordon personally; but he +does not state them as coming from his own knowledge. "I have good +reason," he says, "for believing them to be founded in truth. They come +from very high authority." +</p> +<p> +Notwithstanding the preference evinced by the Prince of Wales for the +Duchess of Devonshire, he was at this time on very intimate terms with +her rival in the sphere of fashion, and passed a part of almost every +evening in the society of the Duchess of Gordon. She treated him with +the utmost familiarity, and even on points of great delicacy expressed +herself very freely. The attention of the public had been for some time +directed toward the complicated difficulties of the Prince of Wales's +situation. His debts had now become an intolerable burden; and all +applications to his royal father being unavailing, it was determined by +his friends to throw his Royal Highness on the generosity of the House +of Commons. At the head of those who hoped to relieve the prince of his +embarrassments were Lord Loughborough, Fox, and Sheridan. The +ministerial party were under the guidance of Pitt, who avowed his +determination to let the subject come to a strict investigation. +</p> +<p> +This investigation referred chiefly to the prince's marriage with Mrs. +Fitzherbert, who, being a Roman Catholic, was peculiarly obnoxious both +to the court and to the country, notwithstanding her virtues, her +salutary influence over the prince, and her injuries. +</p> +<p> +During this conjuncture the Duchess of Gordon acted as mediator between +the two conflicting parties, alternately advising, consoling, and even +reproving the prince, who threw himself on her kindness. Nothing could +be more hopeless than the prince's affairs if an investigation into the +source of his difficulties took place; nothing could be less desired by +his royal parents than a public exposure of his life and habits. The +world already knew enough and too much, and were satisfied that he was +actually married to Mrs. Fitzherbert. At this crisis, the base falsehood +which denied that union was authorised by the prince, connived at by +Sheridan, who partly gave it out in the House, and consummated by Fox. A +memorable, a melancholy scene was enacted in the House of Commons on the +8th of April, 1787,—a day that the admirers of the Whig leaders would +gladly blot out from the annals of the country. Rolle, afterward Lord +Rolle, having referred to the marriage, Fox adverted to his allusion, +stating it to be a low, malicious calumny. Rolle, in reply, admitted the +legal impossibility of the marriage, but maintained "that there were +modes in which it might have taken place." Fox replied that he denied it +in point of fact, as well as of law, the thing never having been done in +any way. Rolle then asked if he spoke from authority. Fox answered in +the affirmative, and here the dialogue ended, a profound silence +reigning throughout the House and the galleries, which were crowded to +excess. This body of English gentlemen expressed their contempt more +fully by that ominous stillness, so unusual in that assembly, than any +eloquence could have done. Pitt stood aloof; dignified, contemptuous, +and silent. Sheridan challenged from Rolle some token of satisfaction at +the information; but Rolle merely returned that he had indeed received +an answer, but that the House must form their own opinion on it. In the +discussions which ensued, a channel was nevertheless opened for mutual +concessions—which ended eventually in the relief of the prince from +pecuniary embarrassments, part of which were ascribed to the king's +having appropriated to his own use the revenues of the duchy of +Cornwall, and refusing to render any account of them on the prince's +coming of age. It was the mediation of the Duchess of Gordon that +brought the matter promptly to a conclusion, and through her +representations, Dundas was sent to Canton House, to ascertain from the +prince the extent of his liabilities; an assurance was given that +immediate steps would be taken to relieve his Royal Highness. The +interview was enlivened by a considerable quantity of wine; and after a +pretty long flow of the generous bowl, Dundas's promises were +energetically ratified. Never was there a man more "malleable," to use +Wraxall's expression, than Harry Dundas. Pitt soon afterward had an +audience equally amicable with the prince. +</p> +<p> +From this period until after the death of Pitt, in 1806, the Duchess of +Cordon's influence remained in the ascendant. The last years of the man +whom she had destined for her son-in-law, and who had ever been on terms +of the greatest intimacy with her, were clouded. Pitt had the misfortune +not only of being a public man,—for to say that is to imply a sacrifice +of happiness,—but to be a public man solely. He would turn neither to +marriage, nor to books, nor to agriculture, nor even to friendship, for +the repose of a mind that could not, from insatiable ambition, find +rest. He died involved in debt—in terror and grief for his country. He +is said never to have been in love. At twenty-four he had the sagacity, +the prudence, the reserve of a man of fifty. His excess in wine +undermined his constitution, but was source of few comments when his +companions drank more freely than men in office had ever been known to +do since the time of Charles II. Unloved he lived; and alone, uncared +for, unwept, he died. That he was nobly indifferent to money, that he +had a contempt for everything mean, or venal, or false, was, in those +days, no ordinary merit. +</p> +<p> +During the whirl of gaiety, politics, and matchmaking, the Duchess of +Gordon continued to read, and to correspond with Beattie upon topics of +less perishable interest than the factions of the hour. Beattie sent her +his "Essay on Beauty" to read in manuscript; he wrote to her about +Petrarch, about Lord Monboddo's works, and Burke's book on the French +Revolution,—works which the duchess found time to read and wished to +analyse. Their friendship, so honoured to her, continued until his +death in 1803. +</p> +<p> +The years of life that remained to the Duchess of Gordon must have been +gladdened by the birth of her grandchildren, and by the promise of her +sons George, afterward Duke of Gordon, and Alexander. The illness of +George III., the trials of Hastings and of Lord Melville, the general +war, were the events that most varied the political world, in which she +ever took a keen interest. She died in 1812, and the duke married soon +afterward Mrs. Christie, by whom he had no children. +</p> +<p> +The dukedom of Gordon became extinct at his death; and the present +representative of this great family is the Marquis of Huntley. +</p> + +<hr> + +<a name="chapter4"></a> +<h2>GEORGIANA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE</h2> + + +<!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + +<a name="image-6"><!-- Image 6 --></a> +<center> +<img src="images/image6.jpg" height="696" width="528" +alt="Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire from the Painting by Gainsborough"><br> +Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire from the Painting by Gainsborough +</center> + +<h2>GEORGIANA, DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE</h2> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the purity of morals enjoined by the court of George +III., the early period of his reign presents a picture of dissolute +manners as well as of furious party spirit. The most fashionable of our +ladies of rank were immersed in play or devoted to politics; the same +spirit carried them into both. The Sabbath was disregarded, spent often +in cards or desecrated by the meetings of partisans of both factions; +moral duties were neglected and decorum outraged. +</p> +<p> +The fact was that a minor court had become the centre of all the bad +passions and reprehensible pursuits in vogue. Carlton House, in Pall +Mall, which even the oldest of us can barely remember, with its elegant +screen, open, with pillars in front, its low exterior, its many small +rooms, the vulgar taste of its decorations, and, to crown the whole, the +associations of a corrupting revelry with the whole place,—Canton House +was, in the days of good King George, almost as great a scandal to the +country as Whitehall in the time of improper King Charles II. +</p> +<p> +The influence which the example of a young prince, of manners eminently +popular, produced upon the young nobility of the realm must be taken +into account in the narrative of that life which was so brilliant and so +misspent; so blessed at its onset, so dreary in its close—the life of +Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Descended in the third degree from +Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, Georgiana Spencer is said to have +resembled her celebrated ancestress in the style of her beauty. She was +born in 1757. Her father, John, created Earl of Spencer in 1765, was the +son of the reprobate "Jack Spencer," as he was styled, the misery at +once and the darling of his grandmother, Sarah, who idolised her +Torrismond, as she called him, and left him a considerable portion of +her property. Whilst the loveliness of Sarah descended to Georgiana +Spencer, she certainly inherited somewhat of the talent, the reckless +spirits, and the imprudence of her grandfather, "Jack;" neither could a +careful education eradicate these hereditary characteristics. +</p> +<p> +Her mother was the daughter of a commoner, the Right Honourable Stephen +Poyntz, of Midgham, in Berkshire. This lady was long remembered both by +friends and neighbours with veneration. She was sensible and +intelligent, polite, agreeable, and of unbounded charity; but Miss +Burney, who knew her, depicts her as ostentatious in her exertions, and +somewhat self-righteous and vainglorious. She was, however, fervently +beloved by her daughter, who afterward made several pecuniary sacrifices +to ensure her mother's comfort. The earliest years of Lady Georgiana (as +she became after her father was created an earl) were passed in the +large house at Holywell, close to St. Albans, built by the famous Duke +of Marlborough on his wife's patrimonial estate. Aged people, some +fifteen years ago, especially a certain neighbouring clergyman, +remembered going to play at cards in this house; and the neighbourly +qualities of Lady Spencer, as much as her benevolence to the poor, +endeared her much to the gentry around. She exercised not only the +duties of charity, but the scarcely minor ones of hospitality and +courtesy to her neighbours. Before the opening of railroads, such duties +were more especially requisite to keep together the scattered members of +country society. Good feelings were engendered, good manners promoted, +and the attachment then felt for old families had a deeper foundation +than servility or even custom. As Lady Georgiana grew up, she displayed +a warm impressionable nature, a passion for all that was beautiful in +art, strong affections, and an early disposition to coquetry. Her +character spoke out in her face, which was the most eloquent of all +faces; yet it was by no means beautiful if we look upon beauty +critically. There were persons who said that her face would have been +ordinary but for its transcendent loveliness of expression. Unlike the +fair Gunnings, she was neither regular in features nor faultless in +form, yet theirs was baby-beauty compared with hers. True, her hair +inclined to red, her mouth was wide, but her complexion was exquisite; +and the lips, ever laughing, were parted over a splendid set of teeth, +an attribute rare in those days when the teeth were often decayed in +youth. She had, too, a charm of manner natural to her, and a playfulness +of conversation, which, springing from a cultivated mind, rendered her +society most fascinating. "Her heart, too," writes Wraxall, her +cotemporary, "might be considered as the seat of those emotions which +sweeten human life, adorn our nature, and diffuse a nameless charm over +existence." +</p> +<p> +A younger sister, Henrietta Frances, afterward Lady Duncannon, and +eventually Countess of Besborough, was also the object of Lady +Georgiana's warm affection; and, although Lady Duncannon was very +inferior to her in elegance of mind and personal attractions, she +equalled her in sisterly love. +</p> +<p> +During the middle of the last century, literature was again the fashion +among the higher classes. Doctor Johnson and the Thrales, Miss Gurney, +Hannah More, still clustered at Streatham; many of our politicians were, +if not poets, poetasters. It is true, if we except the heart-touching +poems of Cowper, the Muses were silent. The verses which were the +delight of polished drawing-rooms were of little value, and have been +swept away from our memories of the present day as waste paper; but a +taste for what is refined was thus prevalent, and thus affected the then +rising generation favourably. +</p> +<p> +Lady Georgiana Spencer had, however, a very few years allotted her for +improvement or for the enjoyment of her youth, for in her seventeenth +year she married. +</p> +<p> +William, the fifth Duke of Devonshire, at the time when he was united +to Lady Georgiana was twenty-seven years of age. He was one of the most +apathetic of men. Tall, yet not even stately, calm to a fault, he had +inherited from the Cavendish family a stern probity of character, which +always has a certain influence in society. Weight he wanted not, for a +heavier man never led to the altar a wife full of generous impulses and +of sensibility. He was wholly incapable of strong emotion, and could +only be roused by whist or faro from a sort of moral lethargy. He was, +nevertheless, crammed with a learning that caused him to be a sort of +oracle at Brookes's when disputes arose about passages from Roman poets +or historians. With all these qualities, he was capable of being, in a +certain sense, in love, though not always with his lovely and engaging +first wife. +</p> +<p> +Miss Burney relates a characteristic trait of this nobleman; it was +related to her by Miss Monckton. The duke was standing near a very fine +glass lustre in a corner of a room in the house of people who were not +possessed of means sufficient to consider expense as immaterial; by +carelessly lolling back, he threw the lustre back, and it was broken. He +was not, however, in the least disturbed by the accident, but coolly +said: "I wonder how I did that!" He then removed to the opposite corner, +and to show, it was supposed, that he had forgotten what he had done, +leaned his head in the same manner, and down came the second lustre. He +looked at it with philosophical composure, and merely said: "This is +singular enough," and walked to another part of the room without either +distress or apology. To this automaton was the young Lady Georgiana +consigned; and the marriage was, in the estimation of society, a +splendid alliance. +</p> +<p> +Her animal spirits were excessive, and enabled her to cope with the +misfortune of being linked to a noble expletive. Her good humour was +unceasing, and her countenance was as open as her heart. Fitted as she +was by the sweetest of dispositions for domestic life, one can hardly +wonder at her plunging into the excitements of politics when at home +there was no sympathy. Hence her bitterest misfortunes originated; but +one cannot, with all her indiscretions, suffer a comparison between her +and the Duchesse de Longueville, which Wraxall has instituted. The +Duchess of Devonshire scarcely merits the covert censure; except in +beauty and talents there was no similarity. +</p> +<p> +Buoyant with health and happiness, the young duchess was introduced into +the highest circles of London as a matter of course. Her husband +represented one of the most influential families of the Whig +aristocracy, and his name and fortune made him important. +</p> +<p> +Three West End palaces, as they might well be termed, Canton House, +Devonshire House, and Burlington House, were open to every parliamentary +adherent of the famous coalition,—the alliance between Lord North and +Charles James Fox. Devonshire House, standing opposite to the Green +Park, and placed upon an eminence, seemed to look down upon the Queen's +House, as Buckingham Palace was then called. Piccadilly then, though no +longer, as in Queen Anne's time, infested with highwaymen, was almost at +the extremity of the West End. +</p> +<p> +In right of his descent, on his mother's side from the Boyle family, the +Duke of Devonshire was also the owner of Burlington House, situated near +Devonshire House, and inhabited by his brother-in-law, the Duke +of Portland. +</p> +<p> +Thus a complete Whig colony existed in that part of London, the head and +front of their party being no less a person than George, Prince of +Wales. He was at this time in the very height of his short-lived health +and youth, and still more short-lived popularity; a man who possessed +all the exterior qualities in which his father was deficient,—grace as +well as good nature, the attribute of George III., a certain degree of +cultivation, as well as of natural talent, a tall, handsome person, with +a face less German in type than those of his brothers, some generosity +of character—witness his kindness to Prince Charles Stuart and his +brother, whom he pensioned—an appearance, at all events, of an +extremely good heart, and a great capacity for social enjoyments. +</p> +<p> +Doctor Burney states that he was surprised, on meeting the prince at +Lord Melbourne's, to find him, amidst the constant dissipation of his +life, possessed of "much learning, wit, knowledge of books in general, +discrimination of character, and original humour." He spoke with Dr. +Charles Burney, the distinguished scholar, quoting Homer in Greek with +fluency; he was a first-rate critic in music, and a capital mimic. "Had +we been in the dark," said Doctor Burney, "I should have sworn that +Doctor Parr and Kemble were in the room." Hence, the same judge thought +"he might be said to have as much wit as Charles II., with much more +learning, for his merry Majesty could spell no better than the +<i>bourgeois gentilhomme.</i>" Such was the partial description of the prince +by a flattered and grateful contemporary, who wrote in 1805. Twenty +years later Sir Walter Scott, after dining with the then prince regent, +paid all justice to manners; but pronounced his mind to be of no high +order, and his taste, in so far as wit was concerned, to be condemned. +</p> +<p> +The prince was, however, just the man to be the centre of a spirited +opposition. In his heart he was Conservative; but the Whigs were his +partisans against a father who strongly, and perhaps not too sternly, +disapproved of his mode of life and his politics. +</p> +<p> +The circle around him was as remarkable for their talents, and, in some +respects, as infamous for their vices, as any Lord Rochester, or Sedley, +or Etherege of the time of the second Charles. In that day, a Protestant +Duke of Norfolk took an active part in political affairs, and formed one +of the chief supporters of the Whigs. Carlton House, Devonshire House, +often received in their state rooms "Jock of Norfolk," as he was called, +whose large muscular person, more like that of a grazier or a butcher, +was hailed there with delight, for his Grace commanded numerous +boroughs. He was one of the most strenuous supporters of Fox, and had +displayed in the House of Lords a sort of rude eloquence, characteristic +of his mind and body. Nothing, however, but his rank, his wealth, his +influences, his Whig opinions, could have rendered this profligate, +revolting man endurable. Drunkenness is said to have been inherent in +his constitution, and to have been inherited from the Plantagenets. He +was known in his youth to have been found sleeping in the streets, +intoxicated, on a block of wood; yet he is related to have been so +capable of resisting the effects of wine, that, after laying his father, +a drunkard like himself, under the table at the Thatched House, St. +James's, he has been stated to have repaired to another party, there to +finish the convivial rites. He was often under the influence of wine +when, as Lord Surrey, he sat in the House of Commons; but was wise +enough, on such occasions, to hold his tongue. He was so dirty in his +person, that his servants used to take advantage of his fits of +intoxication to wash him; when they stripped him as they would have done +a corpse, and performed ablutions which were somewhat necessary, as he +never made use of water. He was equally averse to a change of linen. One +day, complaining to Dudley North that he was a prey to rheumatism, +"Pray," cried North, "did your Grace ever try a clean shirt?" +</p> +<p> +This uncleanly form constituted a great feature of the Whig assemblies. +At that time every man wore a queue, every man had his hair powdered; +yet "Jack" renounced powder, which he never wore except at court, and +cut his hair short. His appearance, therefore, must have been a strange +contrast with that of the Prince of Wales, curled and powdered, with +faultless ruffles, and an ample snow-white cravat, to say nothing of the +coat which looked as if it were sewn on his back. It is to the Duke of +Norfolk that the suggestion of putting a tax on hair powder has been +ascribed. His life was one series of profligacy. Yet, such was the +perverted judgment of the day, that this unworthy descendant of the +Plantagenets was as popular as any peer of his time. When sober, he was +accessible, conversable, and devoid of pride. When intoxicated, he used +half to confess that he was still a Catholic at heart. His conversion to +the reformed faith was held not to be very sincere; and his perpetual +blue coat of a peculiar shade—a dress he never varied—was said to be a +penance imposed on him by his confessor. He did no credit to any +Christian church; and the Church of Rome is welcome to his memory. +</p> +<p> +Richard Brinsley Sheridan, at this period in his thirty-third year, was +not then wholly degraded by drinking, debt, and, as far as money was +concerned, dishonesty. His countenance at this age was full of +intelligence, humour, and gaiety: all these characteristics played +around his mouth, and aided the effect of his oratory to the ear. His +voice was singularly melodious, and a sort of fascination attended all +he did and said. His face, as Milton says of the form of the +fallen angel,—</p> +<pre> + "Had not yet lost + All her original brightness." +</pre> +<p> +Yet he lived to be known by the name of "Bardolph,"—to have every fine +expression lost in traces of drunkenness. No one could have perceived, +in after days, the once joyous spirit of Sheridan in a face covered with +eruptions, and beaming no longer with intelligence. He resembled, says +Wraxall, at sixty, one of the companions of Ulysses, who, having tasted +of Circe's "charmed cup"—</p> +<pre> + "... lost his upright shape, + And downward fell into a grovelling swine." +</pre> + +<p> +This extraordinary man was the husband of one of the most beautiful, +and, in being his wife, one of the most unfortunate of women. Miss +Linley, the daughter of a celebrated musical composer, and called, for +her loveliness, the "Maid of Bath," had the calamity of being wooed and +won by Sheridan. Never was there a more touching and instructive history +than hers. Her beauty was rare, even amid the belles of a period rich in +attractive women. Dark masses of hair, drawn back on her brow, fell in +curls on a neck of alabaster. Her features were delicate and regular; +the expression of her eyes was exquisitely soft and pensive. Her charms +have been transmitted to her female descendants, Mrs. Norton, the +Duchess of Somerset, and Lady Dufferin, whilst they have also inherited +her musical talents, and the wit and ability of their grandfather. Mrs. +Sheridan, after a life of alternate splendour and privation, died at +Clifton, of consumption, before middle age. Her death was saddened, if +not hastened, by her carriage, as she was preparing to drive out on the +Downs, being seized for her husband's debts. Whilst united to this young +and lovely wife, Sheridan was one of the brightest stars in the +dissolute sphere of Carlton House; but for domestic life he had neither +time nor disposition. His fame was at its climax, when, during the trial +of Warren Hastings, he spoke for hours in Westminster Hall, with an +eloquence never to be forgotten; then, going to the House of Commons, +exhibited there powers of unrivalled oratory. Meantime the theatres were +ringing with applause, and his name went from mouth to mouth whilst the +"Duenna" was acted at one house, the "School for Scandal" at another. He +was, in truth, the most highly gifted man of his time; and he died in +the fear of bailiffs taking his bed from under him,—an awestruck, +forlorn, despised drunkard! +</p> +<p> +But of all the party men to whom the young Duchess of Devonshire was +introduced, the most able and the most dissolute was Fox. The colouring +of political friends, which concealed his vices, or rather which gave +them a false hue, has long since faded away. We now know Fox as he was. +In the latest journals of Horace Walpole, his inveterate gambling, his +open profligacy, his utter want of honour, is disclosed by one of his +own opinions. Corrupted ere yet he had left his home, whilst in age a +boy, there is, however, the comfort of reflecting that he outlived his +vices. Fox, with a green apron tied around his waist, pruning and +nailing up his fruit-trees at St. Ann's Hill, or amusing himself +innocently with a few friends, is a pleasing object to remember, even +whilst his early career recurs forcibly to the mind. +</p> +<p> +Unhappily, he formed one of the most intimate of those whom Georgiana, +Duchess of Devonshire, admitted to her home. He was soon enthralled +among her votaries, yet he was by no means a pleasing object to look at +as he advanced in life. He had dark saturnine features, thought by some +to resemble those of Charles II, from whom he was descended in the +female line; when they relaxed into a smile, they were, it is said, +irresistible. Black shaggy eyebrows concealed the workings of his mind, +but gave immense expression to his countenance. His figure was broad, +and only graceful when his wonderful intellect threw even over that the +power of genius, and produced, when in declamation, the most impassioned +gestures. Having been a coxcomb in his youth, Fox was now degenerating +into the sloven. The blue frock coat and buff waistcoat with which he +appeared in the House of Commons were worn and shabby. Like the white +rose which distinguished the Stuarts, so were the blue and buff the +badge of the American insurgents and of Washington, their chief. +</p> +<p> +Having ceased to be the head of the Maccaronis, as the <i>beau monde</i> were +then called, Fox had devoted himself to play. Whist, quinze, and +horse-racing were his passion, and he threw away a thousand pounds as if +they had been a guinea; and he lost his whole fortune at the +gaming-table. Before thirty he was reduced to distress, even in the +common affairs of life. He could not pay the chairmen who carried him to +the House. He was known to borrow money from the waiters at Brookes's, +which was the rallying-point of the Opposition. There the night was +spent in whist, faro, suppers, and political consultations. Dissolute as +he was, there was a kindness, a generosity of disposition that made his +influence over man or woman most perilous to both. Then he was one of +the most accomplished of students in history and general letters; and to +his studies he could even devote himself after irretrievable losses at +play. Topham Beauclerk, after having passed the whole night with Fox at +faro, saw him leave the club in desperation. He had lost enormously. +Fearful of the consequences, Beauclerk followed him to his lodgings. Fox +was in the drawing-room, intently engaged over a Greek "Herodotus." +Beauclerk expressed his surprise. "What would you have me do? I have +lost my last shilling," was the reply. So great was the elasticity of +his disposition, sometimes, after losing all the money he could manage +to borrow, at faro, he used to lay his head on the table, and, instead +of railing at fortune, fall fast asleep. For some years after the +Duchess of Devonshire's marriage Fox had continued to represent +Westminster. So long as he retained that position, Pitt's triumph could +not be considered as complete, nor the Tory party as firmly established +in the administration. Three candidates appeared on the hustings in +April, 1784,—Lord Hood, Sir Cecil Wray, and Fox. So late as the +twenty-sixth of the month Wray, who had sat for some time for +Westminster in Parliament, maintained a small numerical advantage over +Fox. The election, which began on the first of the month, had now gone +on more than three weeks: ten thousand voters had polled; and it was +even expected that, since the voters were exhausted, the books would be +closed, and Wray, who was second on the poll, Lord Hood being first, +would carry the day. +</p> +<p> +Happily we have now no adequate notion of the terrors of such an +election; it was a scene of fun and malice, spirit and baseness, +alternately. Englishmen seemed hardly men; whilst they one hour +blustered, the next they took the bribe, and were civil. Fox went down +to Westminster in a carriage with Colonel North, Lord North's son, +behind as a footman, and the well-known Colonel Hanger—one of the +reprobate associates of George IV. (when prince regent), and long +remembered on a white horse in the park, after being deserted by the +prince and out of vogue—driving in the coat, hat, and wig of a +coachman. When Queen Charlotte heard of this exploit of Colonel North's +she dismissed him from his office of comptroller of her household, +saying she did not covet another man's servant. +</p> +<p> +As the month drew to a close, every hour became precious, and Fox gained +at this critical juncture two new and potent allies. Dressed in +garter-blue and buff, in compliment to Fox and his principles, forth +came the young Duchess of Devonshire and her sister, now Lady Duncannon, +and solicited votes for their candidate. The mob were gratified by the +aspect of so much rank, so great beauty, cringing for their support. +Never, it was said, had two "such lovely portraits appeared before on +a canvas." +</p> +<p> +It required, indeed, no ordinary courage to undertake collecting votes, +for a strong disposition to rioting now manifested itself. Nevertheless, +being provided with lists of the outlying voters, these two young women +drove to their dwellings. In their enterprise they had to face butchers, +tailors, every craft, low or high, and to pass through the lowest, the +dirtiest, and the most degraded parts of London. But Fox was a hundred +votes below Wray, and his fair friends were indefatigable; they forgot +their dignity, their womanhood, and "party" was their watchword. They +were opposed by the Marchioness of Salisbury, whom the Tories brought +forward. She was beautiful, but haughty; and her age, for she was +thirty-four, whereas the Duchess of Devonshire was only twenty-six, +deteriorated from the effect of her appearance. +</p> +<p> +Forgetting her rank, which Lady Salisbury always remembered, and +throwing all her powers of fascination into the scale, the young duchess +alighted during one of her canvassing days at a butcher's shop. The +owner, in his apron and sleeves, stoutly refused his vote, except on one +condition,—"Would her Grace give him a kiss?" The request was granted. +This was one of the votes which swelled the number of two hundred and +thirty-five above Sir Cecil Wray, and Fox stood second on the poll. Of +course much stupid poetry was written on the occasion. +</p> +<pre> + "Condemn not, prudes, fair Devon's plan, + In giving <i>Steel</i> a kiss + In such a cause, for such a man, + She could not do amiss." +</pre> +<p> +Even the Prince of Wales took an active interest in this memorable +election; and George III. is said to have also interfered. Never was +political rancour so high, nor conscience so low, as at that period. The +hustings resembled the stand at Newmarket. "An even bet that he comes in +second," cried one; "five to four on this day's poll," screamed another. +Amid all these shouts, gazed at by the lowest of all human beings, the +low not only in rank but in feeling, the drunken, paid-for voters, stood +the duchess and a band of fair titled friends supporting Fox, who was +called the "Man of the People." +</p> +<p> +It was the 17th of May when Fox, over whose head a scrutiny hung on the +part of Sir Cecil Wray, and who was not thought even then returned as +member, was chaired. This procession took place as the poll closed. Fox +was carried through the streets on a chair decorated with laurel, the +ladies in blue and buff forming part of the <i>cortege</i>. Before him was +displayed the prince's plume: those three ostrich feathers, the sight of +which might bring back to our minds the field of Cressy, where they were +won, and henceforth worn for four successive centuries. A flag, on which +was inscribed, "Sacred to Female Patriotism," was waved by a horseman in +the triumphant cavalcade. The carriages of the Duke of Devonshire and +the Duke of Portland attracted even less attention than that of Fox, on +the box of which were Colonel North and other friends, partisans of Lord +North's, who now mingled with their former opponents. As the procession +turned into Pall Mall, it was observed that the gates of Carlton House +were open; it passed in, therefore, and saluted, in veering round, the +Prince of Wales, who, with a number of ladies and gentlemen, stood in +the balustrade in front. Fox then addressed the crowd, and attempted to +disperse them; but at night the mob broke out into acts of fury, +illuminated and attacked those houses which were in sullen darkness. +</p> +<p> +The next day the prince invited all the rank, beauty, and fashion of the +coalition party to a fête on his lawn. It wad a bright day that 18th of +May; and under the delicious shade of the trees the young and gay +forgot, perhaps, in the enchantments of the scene, politics and +elections. Lord North, dressed in blue and buff,—his new +livery,—strutted about amid those who only fifteen months before had +execrated and denounced him, until, by the coalition with Fox, he had +made himself their idol. Every one, on this occasion, crowded around the +minister, whose wit was as inexhaustible as his <i>sang-froid</i>, and whose +conversation in its playfulness resembled that of our great premier of +1859. Blue and buff pervaded the garden. Colonel North (afterward Lord +Guildford) and George Byng, hitherto bitter enemies, were seen, dressed +alike, walking together familiarly. The prince was irresistibly +fascinating, and nothing could be more splendid than the fête given by +royalty overwhelmed by debt. +</p> +<p> +As the party were thus enjoying themselves, by a strange coincidence, +the famous cream-coloured horses of George III. were beheld proceeding +in solemn state down St. James's Park. His Majesty was going to +Westminster to open Parliament. Nothing but a low wall separated Canton +Gardens from the park, so that the king could not forbear seeing his +former minister, his son, and the successful candidate disporting +themselves in all the elation of success. +</p> +<p> +In the evening Lower Grosvenor Street was blocked up with carriages, out +of which gentlemen and ladies, all in blue and buff, descended to visit +the famous Mrs. Crewe, whose husband, then member for Chester, was +created, in 1806, Lord Crewe. This lady was as remarkable for her +accomplishments and her worth as for her beauty; nevertheless, she +permitted the admiration of Fox, who was in the rank of her admirers. +The lines he wrote on her were not exaggerated. They began thus:</p> +<pre> + "Where the loveliest expression to features is joined, + By Nature's most delicate pencil design'd; + Where blushes unbidden, and smiles without art, + Speak the softness and feeling that dwell in the heart; + Where in manners enchanting, no blemish we trace, + But the soul keeps the promise we had from the face; + Sure philosophy, reason, and coldness must prove + Defences unequal to shield us from love." +</pre> + +<p> +Nearly eight years after the famous election at Westminster, Mrs. Crewe +was still in perfection, with a son of one and twenty, who looked like +her brother. The form of her face was exquisitely lovely, her complexion +radiant. "I know not," Miss Burney writes, "any female in her first +youth who could bear the comparison. She uglifies every one near her." +</p> +<p> +This charming partisan of Fox had been active in his cause; and her +originality of character, her good humour, her recklessness of +consequences, made her a capital canvasser. +</p> +<p> +The same company that had assembled in the morning at Carlton House now +crowded into Grosvenor Street. Blue and buff were the order of the +evening, the Prince of Wales wearing those colours. After supper he gave +a toast,—"True blue and Mrs. Crewe." The room rang with applause. The +hostess rose to return thanks. "True blue, and all of you," was her +toast. Nor did the festivities end here. Canton House some days +afterward received all the great world, the "true blues" of London. The +fête, which was of the most varied kind, and of the most magnificent +description, began at noon, went on all night, and was not ended till +the next day. Nothing could exceed its splendour. A costly banquet was +prepared for the ladies, on whom his Royal Highness and the gentlemen +waited whilst they were seated at table. Nothing could exceed the grace, +the courtesy, the tact of the prince on these occasions, when he forgot +his two hundred thousand pounds of debt, and added to them. Louis XIV., +said an eye-witness, could not have eclipsed him. This was probably the +brightest era in the life of the Duchess of Devonshire. She was the lady +paramount of the aristocratic Whig circles, in which rank and literature +were blended with political characters. Slander soon coupled her name +with that of Fox; and that name, though never wholly blighted, was +sullied. Miss Burney, meeting her at Bath, some years afterward, +describes her as no longer beautiful, but with manners exquisitely +polite, and "with a gentle quiet" of demeanour. Yet there was an +expression of melancholy. "I thought she looked oppressed within," was +Miss Burney's remark. On another occasion she found her more lively, and +consequently more lovely, vivacity being so much her characteristic that +her style of beauty required it. "She was quite gay, easy, and charming; +indeed, that last word might have been coined for her;" and Miss Burney +soon perceived that it was the sweetness of her smile, her open, +ingenuous countenance, that had won her the celebrity which had attended +her career of fashion. +</p> +<p> +But even then there was a canker in the duchess's felicity. Lady +Elizabeth Foster, the daughter of the Earl of Bristol, and a contrast to +her in person,—large, dark, and handsome,—had attracted the duke, her +husband, and the coldest of men had become, deeply enamoured of this +woman, whom he eventually married. Gibbon said of Lady Elizabeth that +she was the most alluring of women. Strange to say, a sort of friendship +existed between the duchess and Lady Elizabeth, who was with her at +Bath, when Miss Burney saw them together. Even then a cloud hung +over—these two ladies of rank; and Mrs. Ord, Miss Gurney's cautious +friend, reproved her for making their acquaintance. +</p> +<p> +Three children of rare promise were given to occupy the affections which +were so little reciprocated by the duke. The elder of the three, +Georgiana Dorothy, afterward married to the Earl of Carlisle, and the +mother of the present Duchess of Sutherland, is described by Miss +Gurney, at eight years of age, as having a fine, sweet, and handsome +countenance, and with the form and figure of a girl of twelve. She, as +well as her sister, was at that time under the care of Miss Trimmer, the +daughter of Mrs. Trimmer, one of the most admirable writers for children +that has ever delighted our infancy. Miss Trimmer is described as a +"pleasing, not pretty" young lady, with great serenity of manner. +</p> +<p> +Lady Henrietta Elizabeth, married to the Earl of Granville, so long +ambassador at Paris, was, at six years of age, by "no means handsome, +but had an open and pleasing countenance, and a Look of the most happy +disposition;" a tribute borne out by the many virtues of that admirable +lady in after life. The Marquis of Hartington, afterward Duke of +Devonshire, then only fourteen months old (this was in 1791), had +already a house, and a carriage to himself, almost in the style of +royalty. He lived near his father, whilst the duchess was staying with +her mother, Lady Spencer. To persons of domestic notions this seems a +singular arrangement. +</p> +<p> +This apparently happy family party had, however, some trials to obscure +their supposed felicity. Scandal not only pointed at Lady Elizabeth +Foster as possessing an undue influence over the duke, but attacked the +duchess in the most sacred relations of her life. The little marquis was +reputed to be illegitimate; the report assumed several shapes; of course +rancorous political partisans pointed to the intimacy with Fox; others +to the intimacy at Carlton House. Another story also obtained credit, +and never died away. This was that at the time when the duchess was +confined, Lady Elizabeth gave birth to a son, the duchess to a daughter, +and that the children were changed; that the late duke entered into a +contract with his uncle, the late Lord George Cavendish, never to marry, +in order that his lordship's children might have an undisputed +succession at his Grace's death. +</p> +<p> +There was another source of disquiet to Lady Spencer and the duchess at +this time, in the deep depression of Lady Duncannon. This lady, the +mother of Lady Caroline Lamb, so conspicuous for her eccentricity in our +own time, seems to have been affectionately beloved by her brother, the +Lord Spencer, the grandfather of the present earl. "He made up to her," +says Miss Burney, "with every mark of pitying affection, she receiving +him with the most expressive pleasure, though nearly silent." This +afflicted woman lived, nevertheless, to a great age, and survived her +gay, spirited sister, the Duchess of Devonshire. +</p> +<p> +Lady Spencer belonged to that class whom we now call evangelical; a +class earnest in feeling, originating in a sincere desire to renovate +the almost dead faith of the period; to set an example of piety and +decorum; and also "to let their light shine before men." Miss Burney +describes her as too desirous of a reputation for charity and devotion. +Nevertheless, Lady Spencer could not detach her daughter from the +gay world. +</p> +<p> +The duchess continued to take an active part in politics, and to mingle +with the tumult of elections, faro, and party triumphs, Love, poetry, +end the fine arts. Her son was born in the dawn of that Revolution in +France which shook the foundations of all social life. At this very +period a serious calamity befell their country in the first fit of +insanity that attacked George III. Up to the very time when France was +plunged into commotion, his Majesty, apparently in perfect health, had +held his weekly levees at St. James's until the last week of October, +1788. Early in November the first paroxysms of his disordered intellect +occurred at the Queen's Lodge, after dinner, her Majesty and the +princesses being present. The gates of the Lodge were closed that night; +no answers were given to persons making inquiries; and it was rumoured +that his Majesty was dead. +</p> +<p> +The state of the public mind may readily be conceived. The capital +exhibited a scene of confusion and excitement only exceeded by that +displayed four years afterward, when the decapitation of Louis XVI. was +announced in London. +</p> +<p> +A regency was proposed; and six physicians were called in to act in +consultation. Doctor Warren was considered to hold the first place in +this learned junto. Doctor Addington, the father of the late Lord +Sidmouth, Sir Lucas Pepys, and Doctor Willis were amongst the rest. +Warren was disposed to Whiggism, and thought the king's recovery +doubtful. Willis was a Tory, and pronounced it possible, and indeed +probable. His dictum was believed at St. James's and at Kew Palace; +Warren was credited at Carlton House and Devonshire House. If the first +was the oracle of White's, the second was trusted at Brookes's. The +famous Duchess of Gordon, the partisan of Pitt and Dundas, supported +Willis and his views, and was the whipper-in of the Tory party. The +Duchess of Devonshire was the firm and powerful supporter of the prince, +in his claims to the regency. The Tories were for the power not only +over the royal household, but over the council, being vested in Queen +Charlotte. A caricature was circulated representing the Lord Chancellor, +Pitt, and Dundas, as the three "weird sisters" gazing at the full moon. +Her orb was half enlightened, half eclipsed. The part in darkness +contained the king's profile; on the other side was a head, resplendent +in light, graciously gazing at the weird sisters; that was the queen. In +the February of the ensuing year, nevertheless, to the great joy of the +nation, the king showed signs of amendment. One day, Mr. Greville, +brother to the Earl of Warwick, was standing near the king's bed, and +relating to Doctor Willis that Lord North had made inquiries after the +king's health. "Has he?" said the king. "Where did he make them, at St. +James's, or here?" An answer being given, "Lord North," said his +Majesty, "is a good man, unlike the others. He is a good man." The party +at Carlton House, amongst whom the Duchess of Devonshire must ever be +ranked, were disappointed at this timely recovery, whilst the +honest-hearted middle and lower classes of England were unfeignedly +rejoiced; but there was too much party rancour existing for any better +spirit to arise and show itself. Even in society, the venom of party was +suffered to intrude. Lord Mountnorris, being one evening at a ball given +by the French ambassador, canvassed the whole room for a partner, but in +vain. He begged Miss Vernon to interfere, and to procure him a partner +for a country dance. She complied, and presented him to a very elegant +young lady, with whom his lordship danced, and conversed some time. Soon +afterward a gentleman said to him, "Pray, my lord, do you know with whom +you have been dancing?" "No," he replied; "pray who is she?" +"Coalitions," said the gentleman, "will never end; why, it is Miss Fox, +the niece of Charles, and sister of Lord Holland." The noble lord was +thunderstruck. Had Pitt seen him? If so, he was undone. He ran up to +reproach Miss Vernon. "True," was the reply; "she is the niece of Fox, +but since she has twenty thousand pounds to her fortune, I thought I had +not acted improperly in introducing you." +</p> +<p> +In the famous quarrel between Burke and Fox, the Duchess of Devonshire +took the office of mediator. Burke thus attacked Fox in the House +of Commons. +</p> +<p> +"Mr. Fox," he said, "has treated me with harshness and malignity. After +harassing with his light troops in the skirmishes of 'order,' he has +brought the heavy artillery of his own great abilities to bear on me. +There have," he added, "been many differences between Mr. Fox and +myself, but there has been no loss of friendship between us. There is +something in this cursed French constitution which envenoms everything." +</p> +<p> +Fox whispered, "There is no loss of friendship between us." Burke +replied, "There is. I know the price of my conduct: our friendship is +at an end." +</p> +<p> +Fox was overwhelmed with grief at these words. He rose to reply, but his +feelings deprived him of utterance. Relieved by a burst of tears, whilst +a deep silence pervaded the house, he at last spoke. +</p> +<p> +"However events," he said, in deep emotion, "may have altered the mind +of my honourable friend,—for so I must still call him,—I cannot so +easily consent to relinquish and dissolve that intimate connection which +has for twenty-five years subsisted between us. I hope that Mr. Burke +will think on past times, and whatever conduct of mine has caused the +offence, he will at least believe that I did not intend to offend." But +the quarrel was never reconciled, notwithstanding the good offices of +the Duchess of Devonshire, the friend of both parties. +</p> +<p> +Soon after the commencement of the eighteenth century, this party spirit +was, as it were, rebuked, first by the death of Pitt, and afterward by +that of Fox, who was long in a declining state. When he heard that Pitt +had expired, he said, "Pitt has died in January, perhaps I may go off in +June. I feel my constitution dissolving." When asked by a friend, during +the month of August, to make one of a party in the country at Christmas, +he declined. +</p> +<p> +"It will be a new scene," said his friend. "I shall indeed be in a new +scene by Christmas next," Mr. Fox replied. On that occasion he expressed +his belief in the immortality of the soul; "but how," he added, "it acts +as separated from the body, is beyond my capacity of judgment." Mr. Fox +took his hand and wept. "I am happy," he added, "full of confidence; I +may say of certainty." +</p> +<p> +One of his greatest desires was to be removed to St. Ann's Hill, near +Chertsey, the scene of his later, his reformed, his happier life. His +physicians hesitated, and recommended his being carried first to the +Duke of Devonshire's house at Chiswick. Here, for a time, he seemed to +recover health and spirits. Mrs. Fox, Lady Holland, his niece, and Lady +Elizabeth Foster were around his death-bed. Many times did he take leave +of those dearest to him; many times did death hover over him; yet we +find no record that the Duchess of Devonshire was amongst those who +received his last sigh. His last words to Mrs. Fox and Lord Holland +were, "God bless you, bless you, and you all! I die happy—I pity you!" +</p> +<p> +"Oh! my country!" were Pitt's last words; those of Fox were equally +characteristic. His nature was tender and sympathetic, and had he lived +in other times he would have been probably as good as he was great. +</p> +<p> +His remains were removed from Chiswick to his own apartments in St. +James's, and conveyed under a splendid canopy to Westminster Abbey. As +the gorgeous procession passed Carlton House, a band of music, +consisting of thirty, played the "Dead March in Saul." The Prince of +Wales had wished to follow his friend on foot to the grave, but such a +tribute was forbidden by etiquette. +</p> +<p> +It is to be regretted that princes must be exempted from so many of the +scenes in this sublunary life calculated to touch the heart, to chasten +and elevate the spirit. As the funeral entered the abbey, and those +solemn words, "I am the Resurrection and the Life," were chanted, the +deepest emotion affected those who had known and loved him whose pall +they bore. +</p> +<p> +Among other tributes to the memory of Fox were the following lines from +the pen of the Duchess of Devonshire. The visitor to Woburn Abbey will +find them underneath the bust of the great statesman in a temple +dedicated to Liberty by the late Duke of Bedford. +</p> +<pre> + "Here, near the friends he lov'd, the man behold, + In truth unshaken, and in virtue bold, + Whose patriot zeal and uncorrupted mind + Dared to assert the freedom of mankind; + And, whilst extending desolation far, + Ambition spread the hateful flames of war + Fearless of blame, and eloquent to save, + 'Twas he—'twas Fox—the warning counsel gave, + Midst jarring conflicts stemm'd the tide of blood, + And to the menac'd world a sea-mark stood! + Oh! had his voice in mercy's cause prevailed, + What grateful millions had the statesman hail'd: + Whose wisdom made the broils of nations cease, + And taught the world humanity and peace! + But, though he fail'd, succeeding ages here + The vain, yet pious efforts shall revere; + Boast in their annals his illustrious name, + Uphold his greatness, and confirm his fame." +</pre> +<p> +The duchess only survived Fox a year; she died in 1806, beloved, +charitable, penitent. Her disease was an abscess of the liver, which was +detected rather suddenly, and which proved fatal some months after it +was first suspected. When the Prince of Wales heard of her death, he +remarked: "Then the best-natured and best-bred woman in England is +gone." Her remains were conveyed to the family vault of the Cavendish +family in All Saints' Church, Derby; and over that sepulchre one fond +heart, at all events, sorrowed. Her sister, Lady Duncannon, though far +inferior to the duchess in elegance both of mind and person, had the +same warm heart and strong affection for her family. During the month of +July, 1811, a short time before the death of the Duke of Devonshire (the +husband of the duchess), Sir Nathaniel Wraxall visited the vault of All +Saints' Church. As he stood admiring the coffin in which the remains of +the once lovely Georgiana lay mouldering, the woman who had accompanied +him showed him the shreds of a bouquet which lay on the coffin. Like the +mortal coil of that frame within, the bouquet was now reduced almost to +dust. "That nosegay," said the woman, "was brought here by the Countess +of Besborough, who had intended to place it herself upon the coffin of +her sister; but as she approached the steps of the vault, her agony +became too great to permit her to proceed. She knelt down on the stones +of the church, as nearly over the place where the coffin stood in the +vault below as I could direct, and there deposited the flowers, +enjoining me to perform an office to which she was unequal. I fulfilled +her wishes." +</p> +<p> +By others the poor duchess was not so faithfully remembered. Her friend +Lady Elizabeth Foster had long since become her rival, yet one common +secret, it was believed, kept them from a rupture. Both had, it was +understood, much to conceal. The story of the late Duke of Devonshire's +supposed birth has been referred to: he is supposed to have been the son +of the duke, but not of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, but of her who +afterward bore that title, Lady Elizabeth Foster. The inflexible +determination of the late duke to remain single, according, it is said, +to an agreement between him and his uncle, then Lord George Cavendish, +always seemed to imply, in a man of such pure and domestic tastes, so +affectionate a disposition, and so princely a fortune, some dire +impediment. +</p> +<p> +In 1824, Lady Elizabeth Foster, then the second Duchess of Devonshire, +expired at Rome, where she had lived many years in almost regal +splendour. Amongst her most intimate friends were the Cardinal Consalvi +and Madame Récamier, who were cognisant of the report, which was +confirmed in their minds by the late duke's conduct at her death. Lady +Elizabeth, as we shall still by way of distinction call her, was then so +emaciated as to resemble a living spectre; but the lines of a rare and +commanding beauty still remained. Her features were regular and noble, +her eyes magnificent, and her attenuated figure was upright and +dignified, with the step of an empress. Her complexion of marble +paleness completed this portrait. Her beautiful arms and hands were +still as white as ivory, though almost like a skeleton's from their +thinness. She used in vain to attempt to disguise their emaciation by +wearing bracelets and rings. Though surrounded by every object of art in +which she delighted, by the society, both of the English, Italian, and +French persons of distinction whom she preferred, there was a shade of +sadness on this fascinating woman's brow, as if remembrance forbade her +usual calm of life's decline. +</p> +<p> +Her stepson (so reported), the late duke, treated her with respect and +even affection, but there was an evident reserve between them. At her +death he carefully excluded all friends to whom she could in her last +moments confide what might perhaps, at that hour, trouble her +conscience. Her friends, Madame Récamier and the Duc de Laval, were only +admitted to bid her farewell when she was speechless, and a few minutes +before she breathed her last. +</p> +<p> +This circumstance struck them forcibly as confirmatory of the report +alluded to; but it must in candour be stated that the duke's precautions +may have originated in another source. His step-mother was disposed to +Romanism, and he may have feared that the zeal of her Catholic friends +should prompt them, if opportunity occurred, to speak to her on the +subject of her faith, and to suggest the adoption of such consolations +as their own notions would have thought indispensable at that awful +moment. The point is one that cannot be settled. It may, however, be +remarked, that in disposition, in his wide benevolence and courteous +manners, the late duke greatly resembled the subject of this +memoir,—the beautiful, the gifted, but the worldly Georgiana, Duchess +of Devonshire. +</p> +<center> +THE END. +</center> + +<hr> +<a name="endnotes"></a> +<h2>ENDNOTES</h2> + +<p> +<a name="note-1"><!-- Note Anchor 1 --></a>Note 1: Collins's "Peerage" gives the following account of this lady: "Peter, +Lord King, married Anne, daughter of Richard Seys, Esq., of Boverton, in +Glamorganshire, with whom he lived to the day of his death in perfect +love and happiness, and left by her four sons and two daughters." +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-2"><!-- Note Anchor 2 --></a>Note 2: A portrait of my grandmother, when a girl, was seen by my mother at +Hawell, in Somersetshire, the seat of Sir C. K. Tynt, many years after +I was born. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-3"><!-- Note Anchor 3 --></a>Note 3: I may with truth, and without vanity, make this remark. The estimable +being here mentioned was named John; he died on the 7th of December, +1790, at Leghorn, in Tuscany, where he had been many years established +as a merchant of the first respectability. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-4"><!-- Note Anchor 4 --></a>Note 4: Hannah More, with her sisters, at this time kept a boarding-school +for young ladies. Later she became famous as the author of tragedies +which gained popularity—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-5"><!-- Note Anchor 5 --></a>Note 5: Mr. Powel. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-6"><!-- Note Anchor 6 --></a>Note 6: Thomas Hull, deputy manager of Covent Gardent Theatre, was founder of +the Theatrical Fund for the relief of distressed players. He was an +actor, the author and translator of several plays, and a writer of poems +and short stories.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-7"><!-- Note Anchor 7 --></a>Note 7: David Garrick, the famous actor and manager of Drury Lane Theatre, +made his last appearance on the stage on the 10th of June, 1776, he +being then in his sixtieth year.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-8"><!-- Note Anchor 8 --></a>Note 8: Arthur Murphy, an Irishman, began life as a clerk, then became a +journalist, and subsequently an actor, but remaining on the stage only +for a couple of seasons, he turned dramatist and wrote a number of +plays, some of which attained great success. Two years after the death +of David Garrick he wrote a life of the famous player, who had been his +intimate friend.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-9"><!-- Note Anchor 9 --></a>Note 9: Susannah Cibber, who gained considerable fame as a singer in oratorio +before becoming an actress. Her first success as a player was gained at +Covent Garden, but in 1753 she joined Garrick's company at Drury Lane, +of which she remained a member until her death in 1766. Garrick, who +greatly admired her genius, on hearing of her demise, declared, "Then +tragedy is dead on one side." She lies buried in Westminster Abbey. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-10"><!-- Note Anchor 10 --></a>Note 10: At the time when the banns of her marriage were published she admits +to being "a few months advanced in her sixteenth year;" and she had been +four months married when the journey to Bristol was made.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-11"><!-- Note Anchor 11 --></a>Note 11: Mrs. Sophia Baddeley, who was a very beautiful woman, and the +heroine of many amorous adventures.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-12"><!-- Note Anchor 12 --></a>Note 12: Robert Henley, who, in 1772, succeeded his father as second Earl of +Northington. Previous to this date he had been made an LL. D. of +Cambridge, and had held the offices of teller of the exchequer, and +master of the Hamper Office in Chancery. The year after his succession +he was made Knight of the Thistle, and in 1783 was appointed Lord +Lieutenant of Ireland.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-13"><!-- Note Anchor 13 --></a>Note 13: Thomas, second Baron Lyttelton, known as "the wicked Lord +Lyttelton," in distinction to his father, who in his lifetime had been +styled "the good Lord Lyttelton." Thomas, Baron Lyttelton, was a man of +parts and fashion; a politician, a writer of verses, an artist whose +paintings were supposed to contain the combined excellencies of Salvator +Rosa and Claude, and withal one of the greatest profligates of the age. +This is the Lord Lyttelton who, in his thirty-fifth year, and whilst in +perfect health, dreamt a woman appeared to him and announced he had not +three days to live. He spoke lightly of his dream, and on the morning of +the third day felt in such good spirits that he declared he should "bilk +the ghost." He died suddenly that night, when his friend Miles Peter +Andrews dreamt Lyttelton appeared to him and said, "All is over." +</p> +<p> +George Edward Ayscough, a captain in the Guards, was cousin to the +second Lord Lyttelton. Some years Later than the date of his meeting +with Mrs. Robinson he produced a version of Voltaire's "Semiramis," +which was presented at Drury Lane Theatre in 1776. He is described as "a +parasite of Lord Lyttelton," and as "a fool of fashion."—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-14"><!-- Note Anchor 14 --></a>Note 14: Anna Laetitia Aikin (1743-1825).—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-15"><!-- Note Anchor 15 --></a>Note 15: George Robert Fitzgerald, commonly known as "Fighting Fitzgerald," +from the number of duels in which he took part, was a man of good +family, noted alike for his gallantry and recklessness. A fracas which +was the result of his distasteful attentions to Mrs. Hartley, a +well-known actress, had made him notorious in 1773, some years previous +to his introduction to Mrs. Robinson. His life, which was one of +singular adventure, ended on the scaffold, he being executed for murder +in 1786.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-16"><!-- Note Anchor 16 --></a>Note 16: Mrs. Abington, a distinguished actress who, at the age of seventeen, +had made her first appearance at the Haymarket Theatre, some six years +before the author of these memoirs was born. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-17"><!-- Note Anchor 17 --></a>Note 17: Later she gave birth to a daughter, named Sophia, who lived but six +weeks.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-18"><!-- Note Anchor 18 --></a>Note 18: Mr. Robinson was educated at Harrow, and was a contemporary of Mr. +Sheridan. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-19"><!-- Note Anchor 19 --></a>Note 19: This gentleman's name is Hanway, the person mentioned in the former +part of this work as Mr. Robinson's earliest friend. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-20"><!-- Note Anchor 20 --></a>Note 20: Writing of this time, Miss Hawkins states that Mrs. Robinson was +"eminently meritorious: she had her child to attend to, she did all the +work of their apartments, she even scoured the stairs, and accepted the +writing and the pay which he had refused."—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-21"><!-- Note Anchor 21 --></a>Note 21: Georgiana, wife of the fifth Duke of Devonshire. The duchess was not +only one of the most beautiful, vivacious, and fascinating women of the +day, but was likewise an ardent politician. Whilst canvassing for the +election of Fox, she purchased the vote of a butcher for a kiss, and +received from an Irish mechanic the complimentary assurance that he +could light his pipe at her eyes.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-22"><!-- Note Anchor 22 --></a>Note 22: George Hobart, third Earl of Buckinghamshire, who had a passion for +dramatic entertainments, and for a time became manager of the opera in +London.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-23"><!-- Note Anchor 23 --></a>Note 23: Richard Brinsley Sheridan was at this period in his twenty-fifth +year, and had entered on his mismanagement of Drury Lane Theatre. He had +already written "The Rivals," which had not proved a success on its +first appearance; "St. Patrick's Day, or the Scheming Lieutenant," a +farce; "The Duenna," a comic opera; but he was yet to write "A Trip to +Scarborough," and "The School for Scandal." +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-24"><!-- Note Anchor 24 --></a>Note 24: In his "History of the Stage," Genest tells us Mrs. Robinson made +her first appearance on the stage as Juliet, on the 10th of December, +1776, but leaves us in ignorance regarding the actors who took part in +the tragedy. Romeo was evidently played by William Brereton, who had +rehearsed the principal scenes with her in the greenroom before Sheridan +and Garrick. Genest adds: "Mrs. Robinson was received with great +applause. She had an engagement previous to her first appearance, and +received what was considered a handsome salary. She was a most beautiful +woman, and a very good breeches figure."—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-25"><!-- Note Anchor 25 --></a>Note 25: According to Genest, the second character she attempted was Statira, +in "Alexander the Great," played on the 17th of February, 1777; Amanda, +in "The Trip to Scarborough," produced seven nights later, being her +third personation.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-26"><!-- Note Anchor 26 --></a>Note 26: Ernest Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, and afterward King of Hanover, +was the fifth son of George III, and perhaps the most profligate and +unpopular member of the royal family.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-27"><!-- Note Anchor 27 --></a>Note 27: Horace Walpole, writing to his friend, the Rev. William Mason, on +the 28th of May, 1780, says: "Lady Craven's comedy, called 'The +Miniature Picture,' which she acted herself with a genteel set at her +own house in the country, has been played at Drury Lane. The chief +singularity was that she went to it herself, the second night, in form; +sat in the middle of the front row of the stage box, much dressed, with +a profusion of white bugles and plumes, to receive the public homage due +to her sex and loveliness.... It was amazing to see so young a woman +entirely possess herself; but there is such an integrity and frankness +in her consciousness of her own beauty and talents, that she speaks of +them with a <i>naïveté</i> as if she had no property in them, but only wore +them as gifts of the gods. Lord Craven, on the contrary, was quite +agitated by his fondness for her, and with impatience at the bad +performance of the actors, which was wretched indeed. Yet the address of +the plot, which is the chief merit of the piece, and some lively +pencilling, carried it off very well, though Parsons murdered the Scotch +Lord, and Mrs. Robinson (who is supposed to be the favourite of the +Prince of Wales) thought on nothing but her own charms and him." +</p> +<p> +"The Irish Widow" was a farce founded by David Garrick on Molière's "Le +Mariage Forcé," and produced on the 23d of October, 1772.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-28"><!-- Note Anchor 28 --></a>Note 28: Thomas Linley, who was considered "one of the finest violin players +in Europe," was drowned through the upsetting of a boat on the 5th of +August, 1778. He was a brother-in-law of Richard Brinsley Sheridan.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-29"><!-- Note Anchor 29 --></a>Note 29: George Colman, a popular and prolific dramatist, who in 1777 became +manager of the Haymarket Theatre, and continued as such until 1785, +introducing meanwhile many new players and some dramatic novelties.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-30"><!-- Note Anchor 30 --></a>Note 30: Elizabeth Farren, born 1759, made her first appearance before a +London audience as Miss Hardcastle, in "She Stoops to Conquer," on June +9, 1777. After years spent in strolling through the provinces in her +father's company and that of other managers, she now captivated the +town. Her beautiful face, exquisitely modulated voice, elegant figure, +and natural grace, rendered her an ideal representative of the fine +ladies of comedy. She was welcomed into the most distinguished society +in London, and whilst acting as manageress of private theatricals at the +Duke of Richmond's house in Whitehall, met Edward, twelfth Earl of +Derby, whose wife was then living. This did not prevent him from falling +in love with Miss Farren, who, it was understood, would succeed his +first wife as countess did the latter predecease the actress. Lady Derby +died on March 14, 1797 and on the 8th of the following month Miss Farren +took leave of the stage in the character of Lady Teazle, and on the 1st +of May was married to Lord Derby, she being then in her thirty-eighth +year. Even in this scandal-loving and licentious age no imputation had +ever been cast upon her honour. Of the three children born of this +union, but one survived, a daughter, who marred the Earl of Wilton. The +Countess of Derby lived until 1829.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-31"><!-- Note Anchor 31 --></a>Note 31: Mrs. Robinson played Lady Macbeth on the occasion of her benefit, +when was also performed a musical farce she had composed entitled, "A +Lucky Escape."—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-32"><!-- Note Anchor 32 --></a>Note 32: The famous politician, Charles James Fox, a friend of the Prince of +Wales.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-33"><!-- Note Anchor 33 --></a>Note 33: George III. and Queen Charlotte, who frequently attended the +theatre.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-34"><!-- Note Anchor 34 --></a>Note 34: This performance of "The Winter's Tale" took place on December 3, +1779, she being at that time in her twenty-second year, and the Prince +of Wales in his eighteenth year.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-35"><!-- Note Anchor 35 --></a>Note 35: Smith had been educated at Eton and St. John's College, Cambridge, +with a view to becoming a clergyman, but eventually went on the stage +and proved himself an excellent actor, whose representation of Charles +Surface was considered a finished performance.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-36"><!-- Note Anchor 36 --></a>Note 36: George Chapel Coningsby, Viscount Malden, afterward fifth Earl of +Essex, born November 13, 1757. He married twice, his second wife being +Miss Stephens, the famous singer.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-37"><!-- Note Anchor 37 --></a>Note 37: Those who have read "The Winter's Tale" will know the significance +of these adopted names. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-38"><!-- Note Anchor 38 --></a>Note 38: The writer evidently makes a mistake in fixing the Oratorio for the +next night, as will be seen from the note on the next page.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-39"><!-- Note Anchor 39 --></a>Note 39: Frederick Augustus, Duke of York and Albany, second son of George +III., who at the age of six months was elected to the valuable bishopric +of Osnaburg.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-40"><!-- Note Anchor 40 --></a>Note 40: Another of the "diurnal prints," dated February 12, 1780, is not so +complimentary in its remarks, which run as follows: "A circumstance of +rather an embarrassing nature happened at last night's Oratorio. Mrs. +R——, decked out in all her finery, took care to post herself in one of +the upper boxes immediately opposite the prince's, and by those airs +peculiar to herself, contrived at last so to <i>basilisk</i> a certain +heir-apparent, that his fixed attention to the beautiful object became +generally noticed, and soon after astonished their Majesties, who, not +being able to discover the cause, seemed at a loss to account for the +extraordinary effect. No sooner, however, were they properly informed +than a messenger was instantly sent aloft desiring the dart-dealing +actress to withdraw, which she complied with, though not without +expressing the utmost chagrin at her mortifying removal."—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-41"><!-- Note Anchor 41 --></a>Note 41: At this time the Prince of Wales and his brother Frederick Augustus, +Duke of York, were living in seclusion at Boner Lodge, Kew, where their +education was being conducted by Doctor Hurd, Bishop of Lichfield, Mr. +Arnold, and Lord Bruce. A strict discipline was exercised over the +princes at this period. It was not until January 1, 1781, that the +Prince of Wales was provided with a separate establishment, a part of +Buckingham House being allotted to him for that purpose.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-42"><!-- Note Anchor 42 --></a>Note 42: Now Margravine of Anspach. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-43"><!-- Note Anchor 43 --></a>Note 43: The most affecting tribute which the memory of a gallant father +could receive was the following pathetic and heartfelt effusion of +genuine and grateful duty: +</p> +<center> +TO THE MEMORY OF MY LAMENTED FATHER,<br> +WHO DIED IN THE SERVICE OF THE EMPRESS OF RUSSIA,<br> +DECEMBER 5, 1786. +</center> +<pre> + Oh, sire, rever'd! ador'd! + Was it the ruthless tongue of DEATH + That whisp'ring to my pensive ear, + Pronounc'd the fatal word + That bath'd my cheek with many a tear, + And stopp'd awhile my gasping breath? + "He lives no more! + Far on a foreign shore, + His honour'd dust a laurell'd grave receives, + While his immortal soul in realms celestial lives!" + + Oh! my lov'd sire, farewell! + Though we are doom'd on earth to meet no more, + Still memory lives, and still I must adore! + And long this throbbing heart shall mourn, + Though thou to these sad eyes wilt ne'er return! + Yet shall remembrance dwell + On all thy sorrows through life's stormy sea, + When fate's resistless whirlwinds shed + Unnumber'd tempests round thy head, + The varying ills of human destiny! + + Yet, with a soul sublimely brave, + Didst thou endure the dashing wave; + Still buffeting the billows rude, + By all the shafts of woe, undaunted, unsubdued! + Through a long life of rugged care, + 'Twas thine to steer a steady course! + 'Twas thine misfortune's frowns to bear, + And stem the wayward torrent's force! + And as thy persevering mind + The toilsome path of fame pursued, + 'Twas thine, amidst its flow'rs to find + The wily snake—Ingratitude! + Yet vainly did th' insidious reptile strive + On thee its poisons dire to fling; + Above its reach, thy laurel still shall thrive, + Unconscious of the treach'rous sting! + + 'Twas thine to toil through length'ning years, + Where low'ring night absorbs the spheres! + O'er icy seas to bend thy way, + Where frozen Greenland rears its head, + Where dusky vapours shroud the day, + And wastes of flaky snow the stagnate ocean spread, + 'Twas thine, amidst the smoke of war, + To view, unmov'd, grim-fronted Death; + Where Fate, enthron'd in sulphur'd car, + Shrunk the pale legions with her scorching breath! + While all around her, bath'd in blood, + Iberia's haughty sons plung'd lifeless 'midst the flood. + + Now on the wings of meditation borne, + Let fond remembrance turn, and turn to mourn; + Slowly, and sad, her pinions sweep + O'er the rough bosom of the boist'rous deep + To that disastrous, fatal coast + Where, on the foaming billows tost, + Imperial Catherine's navies rode; + And war's inviting banners wide + Wav'd hostile o'er the glitt'ring tide, + That with exulting conquest glow'd! + + For there—oh, sorrow, check the tear!— + There, round departed valour's bier, + The sacred drops of kindred virtue[<a href="#note-56">56</a>] shone! + Proud monuments of worth! whose base + Fame on her starry hill shall place; + There to endure, admir'd, sublime! + E'en when the mould'ring wing of time + Shall scatter to the winds huge pyramids of stone! + Oh! gallant soul! farewell! + Though doom'd this transient orb to leave, + Thy daughter's heart, whose grief no words can tell, + Shall, in its throbbing centre, bid thee live! + While from its crimson fount shall flow + The silent tear of ling'ring grief; + The gem sublime! that scorns relief, + Nor vaunting shines, with ostentatious woe! + + Though thou art vanish'd from these eyes, + Still from thy sacred dust shall rise + A wreath that mocks the polish'd grace + Of sculptur'd bust, or tuneful praise; + While Fame shall weeping point the place + Where Valour's dauntless son decays! + Unseen to cherish mem'ry's source divine, + Oh I parent of my life, shall still be mine! + + And thou shalt, from thy blissful state, + Awhile avert thy raptur'd gaze, + To own, that 'midst this wild'ring maze, + The flame of filial love defies the blast of fate! +</pre> +<p> +<a name="note-44"><!-- Note Anchor 44 --></a>Note 44: Dumouriez. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-45"><!-- Note Anchor 45 --></a>Note 45: An attachment took place between Mrs. Robinson and Colonel Tarleton +shortly after the return of the latter from America, which subsisted +during sixteen years. On the circumstances which occasioned its +dissolution it is neither necessary nor would it be proper to dwell. The +exertions of Mrs. Robinson in the service of Colonel Tarleton, when +pressed by pecuniary embarrassment, led to that unfortunate journey, the +consequences of which proved so fatal to her health. The colonel +accompanied her to the Continent, and, by his affectionate attentions, +sought to alleviate those sufferings of which he had been the +involuntary occasion. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-46"><!-- Note Anchor 46 --></a>Note 46: Son of the celebrated Edmund Burke. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-47"><!-- Note Anchor 47 --></a>Note 47: The Right Honourable Edmund Burke, at that time conductor of the +<i>Annual Register</i>. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-48"><!-- Note Anchor 48 --></a>Note 48: Mr. Merry had been a member of the "Scuola della Crusca," at +Florence. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-49"><!-- Note Anchor 49 --></a>Note 49: Mrs. Robinson's "Poems," vol. ii. p. 27. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-50"><!-- Note Anchor 50 --></a>Note 50: The date on which the Paris prisons were broken open and twelve +hundred royalist prisoners slain.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-51"><!-- Note Anchor 51 --></a>Note 51: Boaden, in his Life of Kemble, says: "I remember the warmth with +which Mrs. Robinson chanted the kindness of Mrs. Jordan in accepting the +principal character: and I cannot forget the way, when the storm began, +in which the actress, frightened out of her senses, 'died and made no +sign.'"—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-52"><!-- Note Anchor 52 --></a>Note 52: The Morning Post. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-53"><!-- Note Anchor 53 --></a>Note 53: Miss Robinson and a friend. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-54"><!-- Note Anchor 54 --></a>Note 54: Those who have read Gifford's "Baviad" and "Maeviad" will understand +this allusion.—Ed. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-55"><!-- Note Anchor 55 --></a>Note 55: Second Baron Rodney, son of the admiral, then a captain in the +Guards. +</p> +<p> +<a name="note-56"><!-- Note Anchor 56 --></a>Note 56: Captain Darby commanded, at the time of his death, a ship of war in +the Russian service, and was buried with military honours, +universally lamented. +</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Beaux and Belles of England, by Mary Robinson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUX AND BELLES OF ENGLAND *** + +***** This file should be named 9822-h.htm or 9822-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/8/2/9822/ + +Produced by Stan Goodman and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/9822-h/images/image0.jpg b/9822-h/images/image0.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1bec7de --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image0.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image1.jpg b/9822-h/images/image1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c538bac --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image1.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image2.jpg b/9822-h/images/image2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90c7afb --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image2.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image3.jpg b/9822-h/images/image3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fab6e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image3.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image4.jpg b/9822-h/images/image4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8bcdd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image4.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image5.jpg b/9822-h/images/image5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3bbbd9 --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image5.jpg diff --git a/9822-h/images/image6.jpg b/9822-h/images/image6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc45570 --- /dev/null +++ b/9822-h/images/image6.jpg |
