room and took his dinner, perfectly dissatisfied with the little, or
gather no progress which he had made. However, when the evening came,
instead of calling for his horse to go home as usual, he sent for Halcomb,
and told him that, as it was a dark evening, and he was not very well, if
he would permit him, he would drink tea and spend the evening with his
family, and take a bed there that night. Mr. Halcomb, who was a
warm-hearted, generous, forgiving fellow, readily pardoned all the
insulting language that he had heard in the morning, accepted his offer by
a hearty shake of the hand, and without further ceremony introduced him
into his private room to his family. Mrs. Halcomb, however, the
mother-in-law of the lady, having learned what had passed in the morning,
and expecting nothing less than a fresh attempt to frustrate the match, no
sooner fixed her piercing eyes upon him, after he was seated, than she
drew up, and without waiting for any explanation, began to resent the
insult which he had offered to her profession. He, however, demanded a
parley, and a truce to all hostility, as he was come to offer the olive
branch; assuring her that as a match could not be avoided, he was
determined to make the best of what must be endured. In the course of the
evening he had a private interview with the young lady, and after
extorting a solemn pledge from her that she would not inform me of it till
we were married, he gave her his consent and promised to acknowledge her
as his daughter-in-law. This solemn pledge to keep silence till our union
was completed he made her give, because he wished to see how far I would
go without his consent; and she kept her word; although the fact certainly
came to my knowledge through a third person. My father took the first
opportunity of telling me that, as I was determined to marry against his
will, he should do but little for me, compared to what he would have done
if I had married to please him. He would, he said, give me, or rather he
would lend me, the stock upon Widdington farm, and I might begin to
furnish my house as soon as I pleased; but I must do this out of the
fortune which I was to have with my wife. There was a most excellent stock
upon this farm, the rent of which was three hundred pounds a year. There
were[15] fifteen or sixteen hundred of the finest Southdown sheep, the
very best in the county, as this was a fine sheep farm, in fact,
principally so; twelve cows; six most valuable cart horses, and all other
live and dead stock complete. With this arrangement I was perfectly
content, and indeed it was much better than I had any reason to expect.
The farm was, in reality, a very beautiful one, with a very good house,
and all necessary appendages attached to it. I now seemed to be in a fair
way of obtaining the height of my ambition. This happy intelligence I lost
no time in communicating to the family at Devizes, and the necessary
orders [16] were given without delay. I left it all to the lady, as it was
to be paid for out of her fortune. Few young men entered into life with
fairer prospects in the farming line; very few farmers in the county had
such a stock of all sorts; in truth, nothing was wanting.
The happy day at length arrived. It was the twelfth of January. My sister,
who was to be one of the bride-maids, and my friend the clergyman of
Enford, who was to marry us, [17] went over with me in a chaise. Upon
retiring to rest, having undressed myself, I sat down in an easy chair,
meditating upon the serious engagement into which I was to enter on the
morrow. In this situation I fell fast asleep, and did not awake till three
o'clock in the morning, when I had caught a dreadful cold, and was in a
shivering fit, which I could not get rid of till I arose in the morning. I
was excessively ill the whole of the day. We were taken to the church in a
post coach, and being married we returned to breakfast, where a large
party was assembled to greet us. We were engaged to dine at the Castle, at
Marlborough, which Inn was kept by my wife's brother. We, the married
couple, in a chaise, and two post coaches, each with four beautiful grey
horses, with the rest of the party, accordingly set out to Marlborough,
where we spent the day, during the whole of which I suffered great pain,
being all the time extremely ill. We returned to Devizes to tea, after
taking which we were to go home to Widdington. Just as we were about to
start, Mr. Halcombe took me aside with his son into the next room, and
holding out a canvass bag, he said, "here, my son, is all that I can
afford to give you with my daughter. In this bag is a thousand pounds. I
wish it were ten times as much; but, such as it is, may God grant you to
enjoy it! I have no doubt but it will wear well, as it was got honestly."
This again was more than I expected, as the only time I had ever permitted
him to speak about money, the old gentlemen hinted at no more than five
hundred pounds; but I believe my father had said something which made him
double the sum. I thanked him most heartily; not forgetting to add, that
his daughter was the prize at which I had aimed, and not the money. He
replied, that he should give his other daughter the same, without
trenching upon what he meant to give his sons. In fact, he had at this
time provided for them. However, before we parted, one of his sons,
William, who was then the manager of the Bear, called me on one side, and
said, that as his brother James was just going into business, if I had no
particular use for the money, he should be obliged if I would lend him
500_l_. of it, upon their joint notes. I instantly complied, told out half
my wife's portion, and lent it to her brother, upon his word to give me a
note for it, which he did the first time that I saw him afterwards. I
believe, if they had asked me for the whole thousand, I should cheerfully
have parted with it to them. The five hundred pounds remained in their
hands for nearly ten years, and was not withdrawn by me till several years
after my separation from my wife. I mention this circumstance merely to
shew how these gentlemen felt as to my separation from their sister. In
fact they as well as myself considered it to be a misfortune which ought
to be lamented on all sides, rather than as a reason for entertaining any
vindictive feeling towards me.
We now set off in a coach towards our future residence, Widdington Farm, a
distance of ten miles. The company consisted of myself, the bride, her
sister and mine, who were the two bride maids, and the clergyman. I had,
by this time, completely recovered from the effect of my cold; but, what
was rather remarkable, before we had accomplished half our journey, we
discovered that the bride had suddenly lost her voice, without feeling any
pain or illness. So completely had she lost it, that she could not
articulate a single syllable, otherwise than in a whisper. I was very much
alarmed at first, but as she assured us it was only a cold, and that she
felt not the least pain or uneasiness whatever; and as, with perfect good
humour, she congratulated me on being about to take to my home "a quiet
wife," the alarm gradually passed off.
Widdington Farm lies about a mile from the turnpike road, and when the
carriage turned out of the high road I was obliged, as it was dark, to get
on the coach box to direct the post boys; and, after considerable
difficulty, we reached the house; it being a road over which a chaise
probably had not passed since my father left the farm, twenty years before
this period. Although every thing was prepared comfortably for our
reception, yet a lone farm, in a valley upon the downs, which compose
Salisbury Plain, and not a house within a mile, was quite a different
thing from the cheerful scenes to which Mrs. Hunt and her sister had been
accustomed. A deep silence reigned around; not a tree nor even a bush was
to be seen; and, since we left the turnpike road, the carriage having
passed over the turf for nearly the last mile, the well-known sound of
wheels rattling over the stones had never once vibrated upon the ears of
those who were so much accustomed to it; altogether, it was so very
different from every thing to which the ladies had ever before been
habituated, that, even after I had introduced them into the parlour, which
was well lighted up, and where the hospitable board seemed almost to
invite their welcome, yet I could see that Miss Halcombe looked at her
sister almost in a state of despondency, as much as to say, "God of
Heaven! what enchanted castle are we come to at last?" However, when we
were once seated round the table, with the door closed, the solitary gloom
speedily vanished, for we soon made it appear that there was as much
cheerfullness to be obtained in a lone farm house as there was in one of
the most public and best frequented inns upon the Bath road. Miss
Halcombe, as a matter of delicacy, had always declined to see this
residence before she was married, notwithstanding I had repeatedly pressed
her to ride over and give orders about the arrangement of the house, and
other domestic affairs. During the first fortnight that we were married,
my wife never spoke one word louder than a whisper. At the end of that
time her voice returned, to the great joy of myself and all her friends.
The honeymoon passed with uninterrupted felicity; in fact it was a
honeymoon all the year round, and we were blessed with an endearing pledge
of our loves before the honeymoon appeared even in its wane. Nearly a year
had now gone by in one unbroken scene of pleasure and gay delight. My wife
was of a cheerful disposition, and fond of company, in which I most
cordially participated, and consequently we were seldom without plenty of
visitors. As soon as we were married I purchased two more horses and a
gig; thus my establishment at once consisted of three horses and a gig,
and when to these are added grey-hounds and pointers, &c. &c. the reader
will perceive that I cut a dashing figure, whether at home, at the table,
in the field, or on the road. I drove two thorough-bred mares in a tandem,
with which I could and did accomplish, in a trot, fourteen miles within
the hour; I was almost always the first in the chase, having become a
subscriber to a pack of hounds; and my pointers were as well bred, and as
well broken, as any sportsman's in the county.
I was now become that of which my father had always entertained the
greatest dread; namely, a complete sportsman. Frequently when he called, I
was from home, either hunting, shooting, or partaking of the social
society which is the concomitant of those who delight in the sports of the
field. He would ride round my farm, but there all was in the most regular
order, and he could find no other fault with any thing he saw going on
there than the absence of the master. Yet he was uneasy; for he well knew
that the profits of Widdington Farm would not support such extravagance
and revelry as he was pleased to call it. The stock, it is true, was in
good order, and the crops were well cultivated, and thriving; never
better. Still he was not ignorant of the expense attending a house always
thronged with visitors, a stable and kennel full of horses and dogs, and
the master entering with ardour into the sports of the field. He
remonstrated; but I was young, thoughtless and giddy; my wife was the
same. Rent-day came. Three hundred pounds was due to Mr. Wyndham for rent;
my father knew I was not prepared; he was certain, from the manner in
which I had lived, that[18] I could not have saved any money. Without
saying one word to me on the subject, he paid the rent himself. But he did
not fail again to urge the strongest remonstrances. No farm in the county
was in better condition, or better looked after; the times were good; and
if the farm had been my own, I could just have managed to live in a very
respectable way; for no man knew better how to make the most of every
thing, and very few put it into practice more rigidly than I did; yet, on
the other hand, I could very well manage to spend all the gains whatever
they were, and as my father paid the rent, as well as stocked the farm, it
was quite as good as if it were my own. My father, however, threatened me,
and remonstrated with my wife, on our keeping so much company, and being
guilty of such extravagance. But she could not be induced to think that we
did any thing in a more extravagant way than we were bred up to, which was
very true; and, as I was full as prone to the enjoyment of society as she
was, we seldom refused an invitation, and never failed to return it.
Christmas arrived, and with it, of course, the social merry-making that at
this time was kept up with the greatest spirit in this part of the
country; where every one gave a Christmas feast, which was attended by all
the neighbours for several miles round. We were invited to the first. Some
difficulty presented itself with respect to Mrs. Hunt's accepting the
invitation, as our daughter was only two months old; but this impediment
was soon removed. The little child was in excellent health, and the nurse,
it was thought, would take great care of it in the mother's absence. This
was settled as much to my satisfaction as to that of my wife: for I
enjoyed little pleasure unless she was with me to partake of it.
When the day came, we mounted our horses and she being an excellent
horsewoman, we galloped off to meet our friends at a distance of four
miles, and we reached the place without the slightest accident, though it
was one of the most severe frosts I was ever out in. About three o'clock
the next morning we returned in the same way. I shall never forget the
look of my father, when he saw her come into the room, and involuntarily
exclaimed "for God's sake, Mrs. Hunt, where is your child?" She answered
it was at home. He turned his eyes up and said no more; but I felt this as
a most severe rebuke, and for the, first time I began to think that a
mother leaving her child was not quite so proper. He soon took an
opportunity to speak to me aside, and having asked me whether I was mad,
to bring my wife away from a young sucking child in such weather, he
added, "you acted very prudently and firmly, I understand, when, your
child was born, as to her suckling it, but now you are going to destroy
the child by suffering the mother to remain from it twelve or fourteen
hours at a time." I listened, indeed, to this wholesome advice; but, in
the thoughtlessness of my heart, unfortunately, I passed it of without
paying it that attention, to which, coming from one with such experience
as my father had, it was so well entitled.
What my father alluded to, about my firm conduct when my child was born,
was this. My mother having always nursed her own children, I was bred up
with the notion that it ought to be so, and I still entertained the
greatest antipathy to my offspring sucking any other woman but its
mother.[19] My father had, on his side, already guarded me against all the
arts and tricks played off by gossips, upon such an occasion. Upon this
subject, therefore, I had always expressed a strong and decided feeling to
my wife, in which she appeared to participate.
When the child was born, the mother was attended by the mother-in-law, and
two or three matrons, besides the midwife, &c. &c. They all knew my
determination about the mother nursing the child, and every attempt was
apparently made to carry it into effect. At length a hint was given of
some fears as to its practicability. I would not listen to it[20] for a
moment. Another hint was given, and then a broader and a broader hint; but
I still made light of it, and said we would persevere. On consulting with
my wife I found there was no natural impediment, and that she was well
disposed to exert herself, to comply with my wishes; but I found that the
gossips, and particularly the mother-in-law, had been labouring to impress
on her mind, not only that there was a difficulty, but that there was an
inconvenience, and even impropriety. I was not to be deterred from my
purpose, and did every thing in my power to persuade her to persevere. I
saw that the child enjoyed the breast very much, and that it did not give
the mother so much pain as I had apprehended; and my mind was, therefore,
more resolved than ever to carry this point; although I had never before
had to contend with such powerful antagonists as the gossips, who affected
to treat my knowledge upon such matters with ridicule, and my interference
in them as preposterous and indecent. I ways, however, _twattle proof_; I
heard all they had to say, but I stuck to my point like a hero; and I took
care not to leave the house long at a time, for fear some scheme to thwart
my views should be put in execution.
At the end of two days, in the evening after supper, the grand attack was
made, by three matrons and the nurse, with the Dr. or mid-wife, whom they
appeared to have enlisted into the service; though as he was a reasonable,
intelligent man, I was not in the least afraid of his hostility, and
particularly as I had previously consulted him upon the subject, and found
that I was perfectly correct as to there being no natural impediment in
the mother. While the Dr. was taking his grog with me, they all, according
to their previously settled scheme, came down stairs in a body, and all
burst upon me at once; loudly declaring, that they would not force the
poor weak mother any longer to destroy herself by such a course, that the
child must certainly die, that it was starved already, and that, unless I
would suffer them to send for a wet nurse in the morning they would leave
the house, and I might stay and kill the child myself, for that they would
not remain to be witnesses of the murder.
I saw through the premeditated assault, and was immoveably silent. One
said that it was cruel; another said that it was indecent; a third that it
was hard-hearted; and a fourth that I did not deserve such a wife or such
a child, for I wished to kill the one and break the heart of the other.
Had I not been cautioned by my excellent father, who, even to the very
letter of this attack, had told me what was likely to happen, I should
never have been able to withstand the treble-toned battery of their
tongues. The doctor, meanwhile, said not a word, unless it was in reply to
a question put by some one of the ladies, and then he took care to answer
in a very equivocal manner, for he saw my usual determination settled upon
my brow. I told them at last; that if they would remain below, I would go
up and consult my wife; I found her bathed in tears; for they had not only
prepared her for the occasion, but they had actually worked upon her fears
for the safety of the child, so far as to persuade her that the child
would be starved, and that she had not milk enough to keep it alive. I
soothed her; I reasoned with her; for I dearly loved her. I assured her
that the child was in the most perfect health, as was evident from its
having never cried a minute since it was born; which was now nearly three
days; that it was contented, and I was sure it would do well; and that she
herself would ultimately thank me for persevering against the will of the
gossips. Her tears were soon dried up, and the pretty babe being again
placed by her side with my own hands, she was quite convinced that it was
neither necessary nor prudent to give way always, even to gossips.
Having left the child comfortably asleep, and the mother happy, her fears
being now dissipated, I returned down stairs to the enraged matrons. I
found them all on the tip-toe of expectation, to hear what I had to say, I
told them that I had no doubt but the mother and child would do very well,
if they would leave her alone; but this enraged them more than ever. They
insisted that the mother should at least have the help of a wet-nurse.
"Well," said I, very calmly, but very determinedly, "if it most be so, it
must. If you are of the same mind to-morrow, and the doctor confirms your
opinion, that the child requires more milk, I will kill the puppies, and
it shall suck my beautiful setter _Juno_, with all my heart; but, by G--d!
it shall never taste the milk of another woman, while its mother is alive,
and as well able to nurse it as she now is."
I said this in such a tone, and with such a manner, as would not admit of
any further reply, and the gossips all marched off to bed, abusing me for
a great brute; but, as they afterwards told me, applauding me for
displaying so much resolution, in spite of their cabal and plot against me
being frustrated. When they were gone, the doctor, Robert Clare of
Devizes, most heartily congratulated me upon my success; adding, that he
never saw such a complete victory gained against such fearful odds, since
he had been in the practice; which was upwards of twenty years. I have
related this circumstance as a matter of duty, for the information and
guidance of all young persons, who may he placed in a similar situation,
and who may not have had the advantage of such good and able advice, as
that which was given me by my excellent father, rather than as boasting of
any merit of my own. Never was a child born that was nursed better, and
thousands of blessings did the mother afterwards bestow upon me, for my
perseverance, by which she was enabled to enjoy the most delightful of all
sensations, that of nursing her own offspring.
Let us now return to my story. The very first time that this child ever
had a moment's illness was the day after my wife returned from the first
Christmas party. This illness was very severe, and it caused great
restlessness; the infant was, indeed, so unwell, that Mrs. Hunt sent an
excuse to the party the next day by me, she being determined to stay at
home and take care of her child, in which resolution I concurred. Still I
had no idea that the dear little thing would not do very well again,
though I was now convinced of the propriety of my father's rebuke, and had
not the least doubt in my own mind that the illness was occasioned by the
mother's long absence from her child. I went to the dinner, and my father
was the first to applaud Mrs. Hunt's prudence in remaining at home;
although, when he heard of the illness of the child, he observed, "The
experience that is bought is the best, so that it is not purchased too
dear."
About eleven o'clock at night a message was brought me by a servant, to
say that my child was very ill, and to beg that I would immediately return
home. I mounted my horse, and reached my house half as hour before the
servant, who was upon another horse. When I entered the room--Oh God! the
child was lying dead in its mother's lap, and that mother was sitting
speechless, with her eyes riveted upon her lifeless offspring.--I
instantly caused the little delicate corpse to be removed. It had a smile
upon its lip, and looked as transparent as alabaster; for it had died
without a groan or a struggle. My wife sat petrified; she had never moved
nor spoken since the infant had breathed its last, which was nearly an
hour. The servants were fearful even to touch her or the child; she still
sat motionless with her eyes fixed upon her lap, the spot whence her child
had been removed, and where she had seen it breathe its last. She took not
the least notice of me, neither did she oppose the removal of the child.
Her look was vacant and heart-rending. I tried in vain every means to
rouse her; at length I carried her to her room, and having bathed her feet
in warm water, I was ultimately blessed by witnessing the return of her
reason, which was accompanied by a copious flow of tears.