8 HOLLES STREET, _March, 1822_.

Your brother Francis is kind to us beyond description, and lets us take

him where we will; he dined with us at Mrs. Weddell's,--this dear old

lady copied last year in her seventy-second year a beautiful crayon

picture of Lady Dundas,--and here we met Lady Louisa Stuart, Mr. Stanley

of Alderley, and many others.

Yesterday we went the moment we had swallowed our breakfast,--N.B.

superfine green tea given to us by Mrs. Taddy,--by appointment to

Newgate. The private door opened at sight of our tickets, and the great

doors and the little doors, and the thick doors, and doors of all sorts,

were unbolted and unlocked, and on we went through dreary but clean

passages, till we came to a room where rows of empty benches fronted us.

A table on which lay a large Bible. Several ladies and gentlemen entered

and took their seats on benches at either side of the table, in silence.

Enter Mrs. Fry in a drab-coloured silk cloak, and plain borderless

Quaker cap; a most benevolent countenance,--Guido-Madonna face,--calm,

benign. "I must make an inquiry,--Is Maria Edgeworth here? and where?" I

went forward; she bade us come and sit beside her. Her first smile as

she looked upon me I can never forget.

The prisoners came in, and in an orderly manner ranged themselves on the

benches. All quite clean, faces, hair, caps, and hands. On a very low

bench in front, little children were seated and were _settled_ by their

mothers. Almost all these women, about thirty, were under sentence of

transportation, some few only were for imprisonment. One who did not

appear was under sentence of death,--frequently women when sentenced to

death become ill, and unable to attend Mrs. Fry; the others come

regularly and voluntarily.

She opened the Bible, and read in the most sweetly solemn, sedate voice

I ever heard, slowly and distinctly, without anything in the manner that

could distract attention from the matter. Sometimes she paused to

explain, which she did with great judgment, addressing the convicts,

"_we_ have felt; _we_ are convinced." They were very attentive,

unaffectedly interested I thought in all she said, and touched by her

manner. There was nothing put on in their countenances, not any

appearance of hypocrisy. I studied their countenances carefully, but I

could not see any which, without knowing to whom they belonged, I should

have decided was bad; yet Mrs. Fry assured me that all those women had

been of the worst sort. She confirmed what we have read and heard, that

it was by their love of their children that she first obtained influence

over these abandoned women. When she first took notice of one or two of

their fine children, the mothers said that if she could but save their

children from the misery they had gone through in vice, they would do

anything she bid them. And when they saw the change made in their

children by her schooling, they begged to attend themselves. I could not

have conceived that the love of their children could have remained so

strong in hearts in which every other feeling of virtue had so long been

dead. The Vicar of Wakefield's sermon in prison is, it seems, founded on

a deep and true knowledge of human nature,--"the spark of good is often

smothered, never wholly extinguished."

Mrs. Fry often says an extempore prayer; but this day she was quite

silent while she covered her face with her hands for some minutes: the

women were perfectly silent with their eyes fixed upon her, and when she

said, "you may go," they went away _slowly_. The children sat quite

still the whole time,--when one _leaned_, the mother behind set her

upright.

Mrs. Fry told us that the dividing the women into classes has been of

the greatest advantage, and putting them under the care of monitors.

There is some little pecuniary advantage attached to the office of

monitor which makes them emulous to obtain it.

We went through the female wards with Mrs. Fry, and saw the women at

various works,--knitting, rug-making, etc. They have done a great deal

of needlework very neatly, and some very ingenious. When I expressed my

foolish wonder at this to Mrs. Fry's sister, she replied, "We have to

do, recollect, ma'am, not with fools, but with rogues."

There is only one being among all those upon whom she has tried to make

salutary impression, on whom she could make none,--an old Jewess. She is

so depraved, and so odiously dirty that she cannot be purified, body or

mind; wash her and put clean clothes on, she tears and dirties them, and

swarms with vermin again in twenty-four hours. I saw her in the kitchen

where they were served with broth: a horrible spectacle, which haunted

me the whole day and night afterwards. One eye had been put out and

closed up, and the other glared with malignant passion. I asked her if

she was not happier since Mrs. Fry had come to Newgate. She made no

direct reply, but said, "It is hard to be happy in a jail; if you tasted

that _broth_ you'd find it is nothing but dishwater." I did taste it,

and found it was very good.

Far from being disappointed with the sight of what Mrs. Fry has

effected, I was delighted. We emerged again from the thick, dark, silent

walls of Newgate to the bustling city, and thence to the elegant part of

the town; and before we had time to arrange our ideas, and while the

mild Quaker face and voice, and wonderful resolution and successful

exertions of this admirable woman were fresh in our minds, morning

visitors flowed in, and common life again went on.

Three or four of these visitors were very agreeable, Sir Humphry Davy,

Major Colebrook, Lord Radstock, and Mrs. Scott,--Mrs. Scott of

Danesfield, whom and which we saw when at Lord Carrington's. The

Bellman.

_April 3_.

Fanny and Harriet have been with me at that grand exclusive paradise of

fashion, Almack's. Observe that the present Duchess of Rutland who had

been a few months away from town, and had offended the Lady Patronesses

by not visiting them, could not at her utmost need get a ticket from any

one of them, and was kept out to her amazing mortification. This may

give you some idea of the importance attached to admission to Almack's.

Kind Mrs. Hope got tickets for us from Lady Gwydyr and Lady Cowper; the

Patronesses can only give tickets to those whom they _personally know_;

on that plea they avoided the Duchess of Rutland's application, she had

not visited them,--"they really did not know her Grace;" and Lady Cowper

swallowed a camel for me, because she did not really know me; I had met

her, but had never been introduced to her till I saw her at Almack's.

Fanny and Harriet were beautifully dressed: their heads by Lady

Lansdowne's hairdresser, Trichot: Mrs. Hope lent Harriet a wreath of her

own French roses. Fanny was said by many to be, if not the prettiest,

the most elegant looking young woman in the room, and certainly

"elegance, birth, and fortune were there assembled," as the newspapers

would truly say.

Towards the close of the evening Captain Waldegrave came to me with Mr.

Bootle Wilbraham, who has been alternately Wilbraham Bootle and Bootle

Wilbraham, till nobody knows how to call him: no matter for me, he came

to say he was at our service and our most devoted humble servant to show

us the Millbank Penitentiary whenever we pleased. He is a grand man, and

presently returned with a grander,--the Marquis of Londonderry, who by

his own account had been dying some time with impatience to be

introduced to us; talked much of _Castle Rackrent_, etc., and of

Ireland. Of course I thought his manner and voice very agreeable. He is

much fatter and much less solemn than when I saw him in the Irish House

of Commons. He introduced us to jolly fat Lady Londonderry, who was

vastly gracious, and invited us to one of the four grand parties which

she gives every season: _and_ it surprised me very much to perceive the

rapidity with which a minister's having talked to a person spread

through the room. Everybody I met afterwards that night and the next day

_observed_ to me that they had seen Lord Londonderry talking to me for a

great while!

We had a crowded party at Lady Londonderry's, but they had no elbows.

_April 4_.

I recollect that I left off yesterday in the midst of a well-bred crowd

at Lady Londonderry's,--her Marchioness-ship standing at her

drawing-room door all in scarlet for three hours, receiving the world

with smiles; and how it happened that her fat legs did not sink under

her I cannot tell. The chief, I may say the only satisfaction we had at

Lady Londonderry's, while we won our way from room to room, nodding to

heads, or touching hands, as we passed,--besides the prodigious

satisfaction of feeling ourselves at such a height of fashion, etc.--was

in meeting Mr. Bankes, and Lady Charlotte, and Mr. Lemon behind the door

of one of the rooms, and proceeding in the tide along with them into an

inner sanctuary, in which we had cool air and a sight of the great

Sèvres china vase, which was presented by the King of France to Lord

Londonderry at the signing of the peace. Much agreeable conversation

from this travelled Mr. Bankes. We heard from Lady Charlotte that her

entertaining sister, Lady Harriet Frampton, had just arrived, and when I

expressed our wish to become acquainted with her, Mr. Bankes exclaimed,

"She is so eager to know you that she would willingly have come to you

in worsted stockings, just as she alighted from her travelling carriage,

with sandwiches in one pocket and letters and gloves stuffing out the

other."

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Hope. Mr. Hope, characteristically curious in vases,

turned me round to a famous malachite vase which was given by the

Emperor of Russia to Lord Londonderry--square, upon a pedestal high as

my little table; and another, a present of I forget who. So, you see, he

has a congress of vases, _en desire-t-il mieux_?

Many, many dinners and evening parties have rolled over one another, and

are swept out of my memory by the tide of the last fortnight: one at

Lady Lansdowne's, and one at Mrs. Hope's, and I will go on to one at

Miss White's. Mr. Henry Fox, Lord Holland's son, is lame. I sat between

him and young Mr. Ord, Fanny between Mr. Milman (the Martyr of Antioch)

and Sir Humphry Davy (the Martyr of Matrimony), Harriet between Dr.

Holland and young Ord: Mr. Moore (Canterbury) and old-ish Ord completed

this select dinner. In the evening the principal personages were Lord

James Stuart and Mrs. Siddons: she was exceedingly entertaining, told

anecdotes, repeated some passages from _Jane Shore_ beautifully, and

invited us to a private evening party at her house.

We have become very intimate with Wollaston and Kater, Mr. Warburton,

and Dr. and Mrs. Somerville: they and Dr. and Mrs. Marcet form the most

agreeable as well as scientific society in London. We have been to

Greenwich Observatory. You remember Mr. and Mrs. Pond? I liked him for

the candour and modesty with which he spoke of the parallax dispute

between him and Dr. Brinkley, of whom he and all the scientific world

here speak with the highest reverence.

We went yesterday with Lord Radstock to the Millbank Penitentiary, where

by appointment we were met by Mr. Wilbraham Bootle. We had the pleasure

of taking with us Alicia and Captain Beaufort. Solitary confinement for

the worst offences: solitary confinement in _darkness_ at first. There

are many young offenders; the governors say they are horrid plagues, for

they are not allowed to flog them, and they are little influenced by

darkness and solitary confinement: oldish men much afraid of it. The

disease most common in this prison is scrofula; and it is a curious fact

that those who work with their arms at the mills are free from it, those

who work with their feet at the tread-mills are subject to it.

Adieu. I must here break off, as Mrs. Primate Stuart has come in, and

left me no time for more. The Primate has recovered, and has set out

this day with his son for Winchester, to see some haunts of his youth,

takes a trip to Bath, and returns in a few days, when I hope we shall

see him.

_April 6_.

I left off in the Millbank Penitentiary, but what more I was going to

say I cannot recollect; so, my dear mother, you must go without that

wisdom. All that I know now is that I saw a woman who is under sentence

of death for having poisoned her sister. She appeared to me to be

insane; but it is said that it is a frequent attempt of the prisoners to

sham madness, in order to get to Bedlam, from which they can get out

when _cured_. One woman deceived all the medical people, clergyman,

jailer, and turnkeys, was removed to Bedlam as incurably mad, and from

Bedlam made her escape. I saw a girl of about eighteen, who had been

educated at Miss Hesketh's school, and had been put to service in a

friend's family. She was in love with a footman who was turned away: the

old housekeeper refused the girl permission to go out the night this man

was turned away: the girl went straight to a drawer in the housekeeper's

room, where she had seen a letter with money in it, took it, and put a

coal into the drawer, to set the house on fire! For this she was

committed, tried, convicted, and would have been hanged, but for Sir

Thomas Hesketh's intercession: he had her sent to the Penitentiary for

ten years. Would you not think that virtue and feeling were extinct in

this girl? No: the task-mistress took us into the cell, where she was

working in company with two other women; she has earned by her constant

good conduct the privilege of working in company. One of the Miss

Wilbrahams, when all the other visitors except myself had left the cell,

turned back and said, "I think I saw you once when I was with Miss

Hesketh at her school." The girl blushed, her face gave way, and she

burst into an agony of tears, without being able to answer one word.

Yesterday we breakfasted at Mrs. Somerville's, and I put on for her a

blue crape turban, to show her how Fanny's was put on, with which she

had fallen in love. We dined at Mrs. Hughan's, [Footnote: Jean, daughter

of Robert Milligan, Esq., of Cotswold, Gloucestershire.] niece to Joanna

Baillie: select party for Sir William Pepys, who is eighty-two, a most

agreeable, lively old gentleman, who tells delightful anecdotes of Mrs.

Montague, Sir Joshua, Burke, and Dr. Johnson. Mrs. Montague once

whispered to Sir William, on seeing a very awkward man coming into the

room, "There is a man who would give one of his hands to know what to do

with the other." Excellent house of Mrs. Hughan's, full of flowers and

luxuries. In the evening many people; the Baillies, and a Miss Jardine,

granddaughter of Bruce, the traveller. We carried Sir William off with

us at half-past nine to Mrs. Somerville's, and after we had been gone

half an hour, Mr. Pepys, a _young_ man between forty and fifty, arrived,

and putting his glass up to his eye, spied about for his uncle,

discovered that he was gone, and could not tell how or where! Miss

Milligan, sister to Mrs. Hughan, told him Miss Edgeworth had carried him

off. His own carriage arrived at eleven, and carried Mr. Pepys, by

private orders, not knowing where he was going, to Mrs. Somerville's. We

had brought Sir William there to hear Mrs. Kater sing and play Handel's

music, of which he is passionately fond. It was worth while to bring him

to hear her singing, he so exceedengly enjoyed it, and so does

Wollaston, who sits as mute as a mouse and as still as the statue of a

philosopher charmed.

I forgot to tell you that Lady Elizabeth Belgrave, [Footnote: Daughter

of the first Duke of Sutherland] as pretty and winning as ever, came to

see us with Lady Stafford; and yesterday, the third time of calling at

her door, I was told by a pimpled, red-blotched door-holder that "her

ladyship was not at home," but after he had turned the card to another

form out of livery, he said, "My lady is at home to you, ma'am." So up

we went, and she was very entertaining, with fresh observations from

Paris, and much humour. She said she was sure there was some peculiar

charm in the sound of the clinking of their swords in walking up and

down the gallery of the Tuileries, which the old stupid ones pace every

day for hours. She says she has met with much grateful attention from

the royal family, and many of the French whom she had formerly known,

but cannot give entertainments, because they have not the means. The

Count d'Artois apologised; he has no separate dinner--always dined with

the King, and "_very_ sorry for it." Lady Stafford asked us all to

dinner, but we were engaged to Mr. Morritt. She is to ask again after

our return from the Deepdene, where we spend Monday and Tuesday with the

dear Hopes.

_To_ MRS. RUXTON.

The Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth, Volume 2 · 第 15 / 54 题