else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues me to Death every time I see her by her
tiresome Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in
the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to
Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will
be Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see
little of Sir George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my
poor Fortune where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who
always makes her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what
Delightful Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau's!
Yet I wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she
must be sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little
diminutive figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that
she can not know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the
most studied apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how
greatly should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on
our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea
should never have occurred to HER. I am sure if I have reflected in this
manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in
them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother's Jewels
too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject--let me entertain
you with something more pleasing--Matilda had a letter this morning from
Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he is at Naples
has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope's Bulls for
annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a Neapolitan
Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same
sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless Louisa who is
likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon to be married
to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished merit. He says,
that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite forgiven all
past errors and intend in future to be very good Neighbours. He invites
Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and to bring him his little
Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are equally
desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his invitation, it is at
Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of
time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts
of the Propriety of such a scheme--she owns it would be very agreable.
I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father desires us not to be in a
hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months both he and Lady Lesley will
do themselves the pleasure of attending us. Lady Lesley says no, that
nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements of Brighthelmstone
for a Journey to Italy merely to see our Brother. “No (says the
disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been fool enough to travel I
dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found
it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again.” So
says her Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that
perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany us. Adeiu my Dear
Charlotte Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley.
*****
THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
FROM THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH TO THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST
BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN.
*****
To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is
inscribed with all due respect by THE AUTHOR.
N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History.
THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
HENRY the 4th
Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own
satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and
predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the
rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered.
It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly four
sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his wife.
Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his son
the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the King
made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to Shakespear's
Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus settled
between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son Henry who had
previously beat Sir William Gascoigne.
HENRY the 5th
This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and
amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing
Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I
forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where
he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married
the King's daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by Shakespear's
account. In spite of all this however he died, and was succeeded by his
son Henry.
HENRY the 6th
I cannot say much for this Monarch's sense. Nor would I if I could, for
he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him
and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had
better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in this,
meaning by it only to vent my spleen AGAINST, and shew my Hatred TO all
those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not
to give information. This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose
distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost to make me who hate
her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of Arc lived and made such
a ROW among the English. They should not have burnt her--but they did.
There were several Battles between the Yorkists and Lancastrians, in
which the former (as they ought) usually conquered. At length they were
entirely overcome; The King was murdered--The Queen was sent home--and
Edward the 4th ascended the Throne.
EDWARD the 4th
This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which
the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour
in marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient
proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was
afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice
Henry the 7th. One of Edward's Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had
a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth
reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty died, and
was succeeded by his son.
EDWARD the 5th
This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to
draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle's Contrivance, whose name
was Richard the 3rd.
RICHARD the 3rd
The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated
by Historians, but as he was a YORK, I am rather inclined to suppose him
a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he
killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been declared that
he did not kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true;
and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill
his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might
not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or guilty,
he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great
a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about getting the Crown and
having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, he succeeded to it.
HENRY the 7th
This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of
York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right
inferior to hers, tho' he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he
had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was married
to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother
to one of the first Characters in the World. But of HER, I shall have
occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married
first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had
one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, who tho' inferior
to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an amiable young woman
and famous for reading Greek while other people were hunting. It was in
the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel before
mentioned made their appearance, the former of whom was set in the
stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with the Earl
of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His Majesty
died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not
being quite so bad as his daughter Elizabeth.
HENRY the 8th
It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were
not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King's reign as I am
myself. It will therefore be saving THEM the task of reading again what
they have read before, and MYSELF the trouble of writing what I do not
perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the principal
Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal
Wolsey's telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he was come
to lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and the King's
riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is however
but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was entirely
innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her
Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not
to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the
Charges against her, and the King's Character; all of which add some
confirmation, tho' perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those
before alledged in her favour. Tho' I do not profess giving many dates,
yet as I think it proper to give some and shall of course make choice
of those which it is most necessary for the Reader to know, I think it
right to inform him that her letter to the King was dated on the 6th of
May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this Prince, were too numerous to be
mentioned, (as this history I trust has fully shown;) and nothing can
be said in his vindication, but that his abolishing Religious Houses and
leaving them to the ruinous depredations of time has been of infinite
use to the landscape of England in general, which probably was a
principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a Man who
was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to abolish one which
had for ages been established in the Kingdom. His Majesty's 5th Wife
was the Duke of Norfolk's Neice who, tho' universally acquitted of the
crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many people supposed to
have led an abandoned life before her Marriage--of this however I have
many doubts, since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who
was so warm in the Queen of Scotland's cause, and who at last fell a
victim to it. The Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with
difficulty effected it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward.
EDWARD the 6th
As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father's
death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the
late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother's Brother the
Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority.
This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat
of a favourite with me, tho' I would by no means pretend to affirm that
he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or
Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud,
had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but
as it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never
happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with
the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the
care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so
well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law
the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek.
Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study
proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was
always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause,
she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what
was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for
she declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while
conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another in
Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing that
way.
MARY
This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England,
in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins
Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom for the
misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since they fully deserved
them, for having allowed her to succeed her Brother--which was a double
peice of folly, since they might have foreseen that as she died without
children, she would be succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that
pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were the people who fell martyrs to the
protestant Religion during her reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen.
She married Philip King of Spain who in her sister's reign was famous
for building Armadas. She died without issue, and then the dreadful
moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful
Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin
succeeded to the Throne.----
ELIZABETH
It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad
Ministers---Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have
committed such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men
connived at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by
many people been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis
Walsingham, and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State
were deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded
such writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised,
neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they
reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their
Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining
for the space of nineteen years, a WOMAN who if the claims of
Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who
condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect
assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring
this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can
any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting
blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to
Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching
Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose
only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was
abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and
vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when
informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore
it with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her
Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she
was doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious
Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that
some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that
steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so
much credit? But this is a striking proof of THEIR narrow souls and
prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall
at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of February
1586--to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of
England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude
my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had been accused
of several crimes during the time of her reigning in Scotland, of which
I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she was entirely innocent;
having never been guilty of anything more than Imprudencies into which
she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, her Youth, and her
Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely done away every
Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the Reader's mind,
from what other Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to
mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth's reign. It was about
this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who sailed
round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country and his
profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated as a sailor,
I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this or the next
Century by one who tho' now but young, already promises to answer all
the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and Freinds,
amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is
dedicated, and my no less amiable self.
Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of
Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an Earl, as Drake was
in that of a Sailor, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate
young Man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate
one FREDERIC DELAMERE. The simile may be carried still farther, and
Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the Emmeline of
Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble
and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the
25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having
clapped his hand on his sword, and after performing many other services
to his Country. Elizabeth did not long survive his loss, and died so
miserable that were it not an injury to the memory of Mary I should pity
her.
JAMES the 1st
Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most principal,
was his allowing his Mother's death, yet considered on the whole I
cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several
Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before
his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell his
unfortunate Brother.
As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with
infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member
of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am
necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England
did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour
indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly
be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho'
certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general
politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were
entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle.
Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is
by many people held in great veneration and respect--But as he was an
enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and
must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars
of his life, to Mr Sheridan's play of the Critic, where they will
find many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir
Christopher Hatton.--His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which
inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener
penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard an
excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on reminds
me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to FIND IT
OUT, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them.
SHARADE My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you
tread on my whole.
The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards
created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share
in the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of
Buckingham. On his Majesty's death he was succeeded by his son Charles.
CHARLES the 1st
This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to
those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve
since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many
detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its
History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them throughout
the whole Kingdom amounting only to FIVE, besides the inhabitants
of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful to his
interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the duty of
the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, were as
follows--The King himself, ever stedfast in his own support--Archbishop
Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke of Ormond, who were
scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. While the VILLIANS
of the time would make too long a list to be written or read; I shall
therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang.
Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be considered as the original
Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which
England for many years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that
of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch,
to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the English,
since they dared to think differently from their Sovereign, to forget
the Adoration which as STUARTS it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel
against, dethrone and imprison the unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to
deceive, and to sell the no less unfortunate Charles. The Events of this
Monarch's reign are too numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital
of any Events (except what I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my
principal reason for undertaking the History of England being to Prove
the innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with
having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho' I am rather
fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.--As
therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the
distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct and
Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him
from the Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he
has often been charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for
with one argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible and well
disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a good
Education--and this Argument is that he was a STUART.
Finis Saturday Nov: 26th 1791.
*****
A COLLECTION OF LETTERS
To Miss COOPER
COUSIN Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and
every Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and
Care I Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection
of Curious Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and
Classed by your Comical Cousin
The Author.
*****
A COLLECTION OF LETTERS
LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND.
My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner from
that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now arrived
at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to become
conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister scarcely a
twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education has been such
as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and that THEY will
not disgrace their Education I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they
are sweet Girls--. Sensible yet unaffected--Accomplished yet Easy--.
Lively yet Gentle--. As their progress in every thing they have learnt
has been always the same, I am willing to forget the difference of age,
and to introduce them together into Public. This very Evening is fixed
on as their first ENTREE into Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope
and her Daughter. I am glad that we are to meet no one, for my Girls
sake, as it would be awkward for them to enter too wide a Circle on the
very first day. But we shall proceed by degrees.--Tomorrow Mr Stanly's
family will drink tea with us, and perhaps the Miss Phillips's will meet
them. On Tuesday we shall pay Morning Visits--On Wednesday we are to
dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we have Company at home. On Friday we
are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John Wynna's--and on Saturday
we expect Miss Dawson to call in the Morning--which will complete my
Daughters Introduction into Life. How they will bear so much dissipation
I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no fear, I only dread their
health.
This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls are OUT. As the
moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet
Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove
to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they
were seated thus addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now
arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours
towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a World
in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn
you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the Follies and
Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if you do--I
shall be very sorry for it.” They both assured me that they would ever
remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with attention; That
they were prepared to find a World full of things to amaze and to shock
them: but that they trusted their behaviour would never give me reason
to repent the Watchful Care with which I had presided over their infancy
and formed their Minds--” “With such expectations and such intentions
(cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you--and can chearfully
conduct you to Mrs Cope's without a fear of your being seduced by her
Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added
I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment delay
the happiness you are so impatient to enjoy.” When we arrived at
Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all
Life and Rapture. “The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she)
and we shall soon be in the World.”--In a few Moments we were in Mrs
Cope's parlour, where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us.
I observed with delight the impression my Children made on them--. They
were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho' somewhat abashed
from the peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an ease in their
Manners and address which could not fail of pleasing--. Imagine my
dear Madam how delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how
attentively they observed every object they saw, how disgusted with some
Things, how enchanted with others, how astonished at all! On the whole
however they returned in raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and
Manners. Yrs Ever--A. F.
LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind
Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why
should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I
have experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for
Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our
feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my
dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being more
sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, or
either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most lasting
affection that ever warmed a Woman's heart. Tell me then dear Belle why
I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep when I
behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case--. My Freinds are all
alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they lament my want
of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of releiving my
melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited
several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget
Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; and
Colonel Seaton's family will be with us next week. This is all most
kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the presence of a
dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress me--. I will
not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived.
Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet
sister Miss Jane--. Although I have been acquainted with this charming
Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she
is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is
more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her,
the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with
me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is
something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more than
Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I could not
help telling her how much she engaged my admiration--. “Oh! Miss Jane
(said I)--and stopped from an inability at the moment of expressing
myself as I could wish--Oh! Miss Jane--(I repeated)--I could not think
of words to suit my feelings--She seemed waiting for my speech--. I
was confused--distressed--my thoughts were bewildered--and I could only
add--“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my Embarrassment and with
admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying--“My dear
Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself--I will turn the
Conversation without appearing to notice it. “Oh! how I loved her for
her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you used to do?” said she--. “I
am advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us,
I have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied
I quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.”
“You are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the following
line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both Riding
and Candour--
“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” I rode once,
but it is many years ago--She spoke this in so low and tremulous a
Voice, that I was silent--. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could
make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my
face, since I was married.” I was never so surprised--“Married, Ma'am!”
I repeated. “You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she,
since what I have said must appear improbable to you--Yet nothing is
more true than that I once was married.”
“Then why are you called Miss Jane?”
“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the
late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret
from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer
of revealing it--. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon given in
the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood--Pardon these tears, continued Miss
Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband's memory. He fell my
Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a most happy
Union of seven years--. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, who
had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with him and with
every one as the Children of a Brother (tho' I had ever been an only
Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no sooner had
I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and died--.
Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an Aunt I
attended my Children to their early Grave--. My Father did not survive
them many weeks--He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to his
last hour of my Marriage.'
“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband's death?”
“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my
Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself
are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been
either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the
name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry's death I could never hear
without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that of
Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point of
bearing only my Christian one since my Father's death.” She paused--“Oh!
my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so
entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted me! But have
you quite done?”
“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry's elder Brother dieing
about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we
had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we
had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live
together. We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post,
so exactly did our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly
embraced the proposals we gave and received of becoming one family, and
have from that time lived together in the greatest affection.”
“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.”
“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?”
“I never did--and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when
one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one's sensations as to hear
of equal misery.”
“Ah! but my Sophia why are YOU unhappy?”
“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby's Marriage?”
“But my love why lament HIS perfidy, when you bore so well that of many
young Men before?”
“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his
Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.”
“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane.
LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her
freind
A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my
Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who
did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit
forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially
as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation on me “So
Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the
Carriage) you seem very smart to night--MY poor Girls will appear quite
to disadvantage by YOU--I only hope your Mother may not have distressed
herself to set YOU off. Have you got a new Gown on?”
“Yes Ma'am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume.
“Aye, and a fine one too I think--(feeling it, as by her permission I
seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart--But I must
own, for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a
needless piece of expence--Why could not you have worn your old striped
one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor,
for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than
blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time I
must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been quite
fine enough for its Wearer--for to tell you the truth (I always speak my
mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the room will
not know whether you have a Gown on or not--But I suppose you intend to
make your fortune to night--. Well, the sooner the better; and I wish
you success.”
“Indeed Ma'am I have no such intention--”
“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss
Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me.
“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship.
“Dear Ma'am, said Ellen it is but nine o'clock.”
“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be
extravagant.”
“She was just sitting down to supper Ma'am.”
“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and
Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said
Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is
always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she
constantly does at her Mother's wit.
Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while
riding in her Ladyship's Coach--I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother
is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my
way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady
Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her
House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of
being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.--When we arrived at
Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o'clock, which was an hour and a half
later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too
fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing
however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been
long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just
as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got
his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean
time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went
exactly before me--She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though
there were several people close to us,
“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady!
I am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair;
perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she
passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and
leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one--Mr
Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered
the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared
from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all
the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations
in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in
the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see that
Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who had been
his Choice--She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly when we
were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with more than her
usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said loud enough
to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria in what
way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree
whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she wanted to
mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing
that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.”
“Aye, I knew he was in some such low way--He broke did not he?” “I
beleive not Ma'am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that he did.”
“At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, was
not your FATHER as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not he in the
Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me SUCH a look, and
turned away in a great passion; while I was half delighted with myself
for my impertinence, and half afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady
Greville was extremely angry with me, she took no further notice of
me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in favour I should have been
equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of great folks and she
never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss Greville was with
her Mother's party at supper, but Ellen preferred staying with the
Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady G--slept all
the way home, I had a very comfortable ride.
The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville's Coach stopped at
the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should.
She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should not get out
but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak
to her, and that she must make haste and come immediately--” “What an
impertinent Message Mama!” said I--“Go Maria--” replied she--Accordingly
I went and was obliged to stand there at her Ladyships pleasure though
the Wind was extremely high and very cold.
“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last
night--But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that
you may dine with us the day after tomorrow--Not tomorrow, remember, do
not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas
Stanley's family--There will be no occasion for your being very fine
for I shant send the Carriage--If it rains you may take an umbrella--”
I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself
dry--“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait--I hate my
Victuals over-done--But you need not come before the time--How does
your Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma'am we were in the
middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it very
cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind--said her
Mother--I assure you I can hardly bear the window down--But you are used
to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your
Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride
in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind
shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do
in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings either
of cold or Delicacy--Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday
at 5 o'clock--You must tell your Maid to come for you at night--There
will be no Moon--and you will have an horrid walk home--My compts to
Your Mother--I am afraid your dinner will be cold--Drive on--” And away
she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always does.
Maria Williams.
LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind
We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very
agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her
appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and
voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that
they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her Life,
who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen her,
for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and
that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable opportunity
offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished to know, for
every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss
Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a whispering
Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity obliged
to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined not
to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in
the following Manner.
“Have you been long in Essex Ma'am?”
“I arrived on Tuesday.”
“You came from Derbyshire?”
“No, Ma'am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will
think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not
wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased with
the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you have
left?”
“Much superior Ma'am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know
for why.
“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor
consolation for the loss of one's dearest Freinds.” She shook her
head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much
raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it.
“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.”
“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma'am I was and passed many happy
years there--”
“That is a great comfort--said I--I hope Ma'am that you never spent any
unhappy one's there.”
“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right
to expect uninterrupted Happiness.--Some Misfortunes I have certainly
met with.”
“WHAT Misfortunes dear Ma'am? replied I, burning with impatience to know
every thing. “NONE Ma'am I hope that have been the effect of any wilfull
fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma'am, and have no doubt but that any
sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the cruelties
of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed--“You seem unhappy
my dear Miss Grenville--Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?”
“YOUR power Ma'am replied she extremely surprised; it is in NO ONES
power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in so mournfull and
solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. I
was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and
looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear Miss Grenville
said I, you appear extremely young--and may probably stand in need of
some one's advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps
superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and
I now challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and
Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours--”
“You are extremely obliging Ma'am--said she--and I am highly flattered
by your attention to me--But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no
uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I
am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall
know where to apply.”
I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however
I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment
and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to
renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you intend staying
long in this part of England Miss Grenville?”
“Yes Ma'am, some time I beleive.”
“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?”
“They are neither of them alive Ma'am.” This was an answer I did not
expect--I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life---.
LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind
My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love
every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I
had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my
dear Musgrove.
Sackville St: Janry 7th It is a month to day since I first beheld my
lovely Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in
a manner becoming the day--by writing to her. Never shall I forget the
moment when her Beauties first broke on my sight--No time as you well
know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady
Scudamore to live within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely
Creature first entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight
of you was like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started--I gazed
at her with admiration--She appeared every moment more Charming, and the
unfortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time
to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an
happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself
is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he
pine for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored
by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful
you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal.
You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the
prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life--and her Beauty is encreased in her
Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope.
And ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do
hope for the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since
my fair one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed
her in affluence above what my fortune can procure--. Though it is an
improvable Estate--. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I
am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house
which tho' an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is
ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell--Of that
Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and
devoted humble servt. T. Musgrove.
There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such
a master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of
Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet?
No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with
by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the
following in answer to his Letter tomorrow.
My dearest Musgrove--. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made
me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than
any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest
Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a
Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you are
in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How shall
we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we cannot
live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how impatiently I
wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt--If they will not Die soon, I
beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every day of my
Life.
How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her
house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are there.
I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never
read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly
and faithfully yours for ever and ever Henrietta Halton.
I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write
though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at
a Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady
Scudamores--And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I
liked her Cousin Musgrove?
“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.”
“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with
you.”
“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?”
“Nay, t'is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love with
you from the first moment he beheld you.”
“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I
would give a farthing for--There is some sense in being in love at first
sight.”
“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and
I beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a
contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a
great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.”
This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my conquest.
However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs--so I said to
her--
“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young
Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who have
no fortune at all.”
“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you can
be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to encourage
your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a fortune
with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an estate of
several hundreds an year which is capable of great Improvement, and an
excellent House, though at Present it is not quite in repair.”
“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against
him, and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a
good Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him
for admiring me, tho' perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady
Scudamore.”
“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her
Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I
am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to yourself,
cherishing a most tender affection for him.”
“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a
thing?”
“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear
Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me--Do not you
prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?”
“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away
my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.”
“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why
Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why refuse
to confide in me?”
“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to
confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove,
that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a
handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be
ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would
have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful
hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior
merit has made an impression on me.”
“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection)
what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a
quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such
Noble Sentiments!”
“Do you Ma'am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore
did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like
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