said he; "but," continued his lordship, "I fear that I have in some
degree aided in alienating his conjugal affections. I could not bear to
see such youth, such merit, so sacrificed--"
"Speak briefly, my lord," said I.
"Then," replied Lord Lyttelton, "I must inform you that your husband is
the most false and undeserving of that name! He has formed connection
with a woman of abandoned character; he lavishes on her those means of
subsistence which you will shortly stand in need of."
"I do not believe it," said I, indignantly.
"Then you shall be convinced," answered his lordship; "but remember, if
you betray me, your true and zealous friend, I must fight your husband;
for he never will forgive my having discovered his infidelity."
"It cannot be true," said I. "You have been misinformed."
"Then it has been by the woman who usurps your place in the affections
of your husband," replied Lord Lyttelton. "From her I received the
information. Her name is Harriet Wilmot; she resides in Soho. Your
husband daily visits her."
I thought I should have fainted; but a torrent of tears recalled the
ebbing current of my heart, and I grew proud in fortitude, though
humbled in self-love.
"Now," said Lord Lyttelton, "if you are a woman of spirit, you will be
_revenged_!" I shrunk with horror, and would have quitted the room.
"Hear me," said he. "You cannot be a stranger to my motives for thus
cultivating the friendship of your husband. My fortune is at your
disposal. Robinson is a ruined man; his debts are considerable, and
nothing but destruction can await you. Leave him! Command my powers to
serve you."
I would hear no more,--broke from him, and rushed out of the apartments.
My sensations, my sufferings were indescribable.
I immediately took a hackney-coach, and proceeded to Prince's Street,
Soho,--Lord Lyttelton having given me the address of my rival. Language
cannot describe what I suffered till I arrived at the lodgings of Miss
Wilmot. The coachman knocked, a dirty servant girl opened the door. Her
mistress was not at home. I quitted the coach and ascended to the
drawing-room, where the servant left me, after informing me that Miss W.
would return in a very short time. I was now left alone.
I opened the chamber door which led from the drawing-room. A new white
lustring sacque and petticoat lay on the bed. While I was examining the
room, a loud knocking at the street door alarmed me. I reëntered the
front apartment, and waited with a palpitating bosom till the being
whose triumph had awakened both my pride and my resentment appeared
before me.
She was a handsome woman, though evidently some years older than myself.
She wore a dress of printed Irish muslin, with a black gauze cloak and a
chip hat, trimmed with pale lilac ribbons; she was tall, and had a very
pleasing countenance. Her manner was timid and confused; her lips as
pale as ashes. I commiserated her distress, desired her not to be
alarmed, and we took our seats, with increased composure.
"I came to inquire whether or not you are acquainted with a Mr.
Robinson," said I.
"I am," replied Miss Wilmot. "He visits me frequently." She drew off her
glove as she spoke, and passing her hand over her eyes, I observed on
her finger a ring, which I knew to have been my husband's.
"I have nothing more to say," added I, "but to request that you will
favour me with Mr. Robinson's address; I have something which I wish to
convey to him."
She smiled, and cast her eyes over my figure. My dress was a morning
_déshabille_ of India muslin, with a bonnet of straw, and a white lawn
cloak bordered with lace.
"You are Mr. Robinson's wife," said she, with a trembling voice. "I am
sure you are; and probably this ring was yours; pray receive it--"
I declined taking the ring. She continued, "Had I known that Mr.
Robinson was the husband of such a woman--"
I rose to leave her. She added, "I never will see him more,--unworthy
man,--I never will again receive him."
I could make no reply, but rose and departed.
On my return to Hatton Garden, I found my husband waiting dinner. I
concealed my chagrin. We had made a party that evening to Drury Lane
Theatre, and from thence to a select concert at the Count de
Belgeioso's, in Portman Square. Lord Lyttelton was to join us at both
places. We went to the play; but my agitation had produced such a
violent headache that I was obliged to send an apology for not keeping
our engagement at the imperial ambassador's.
On the following morning I spoke to Mr. Robinson respecting Miss Wilmot.
He did not deny that he knew such a person, that he had visited her; but
he threw all the blame of his indiscretion on Lord Lyttelton. He
requested to know who had informed me of his conduct. I refused to tell;
and he had too high an opinion of his false associate to suspect him of
such treachery.
At one of Mrs. Parry's card parties I met Mrs. Abington.[16] I thought
her the most lively and bewitching woman I had ever seen; her manners
were fascinating, and the peculiar tastefulness of her dress excited
universal admiration. My imagination again wandered to the stage, and I
thought the heroine of the scenic art was of all human creatures the
most to be envied.
About this period I observed that Mr. Robinson had frequent visitors of
the Jewish tribe; that he was often closeted with them, and that some
secret negotiation was going forward to which I was a total stranger.
Among others, Mr. King was a constant visitor; indeed, he had often been
with my husband on private business ever since the period of our
marriage. I questioned Mr. Robinson upon the subject of these strange
and repeated interviews. He assured me that the persons I had seen came
merely upon law business, and that in his profession it was necessary to
be civil to all ranks of people. Whenever I urged a farther explanation,
he assumed a tone of displeasure, and requested me not to meddle with
his professional occupations. I desisted; and the parlour of our house
was almost as much frequented by Jews as though it had been their
synagogue.
Mr. Robinson's mornings were devoted to his bearded friends, his
evenings to his fashionable associates; but my hours were all dedicated
to sorrow, for I now heard that my husband, even at the period of his
marriage, had an attachment which he had not broken, and that his
infidelities were as public as the ruin of his finances was inevitable.
I remonstrated--I was almost frantic. My distress was useless, my wishes
to retrench our expenses ineffectual. Mr. Robinson had, previous to our
union, deeply involved himself in a bond debt of considerable magnitude,
and he had from time to time borrowed money on annuity,--one sum to
discharge the other,--till every plan of liquidation appeared
impracticable. During all this time my mother was at Bristol.
Lord Lyttelton, finding every plan of seduction fail, now rested his
only hope of subduing my honour in the certainty of my husband's ruin.
He therefore took every step, embraced every opportunity of involving
him more deeply in calamity. Parties were made to Richmond and Salt
Hill, to Ascot Heath and Epsom races, in all of which Mr. Robinson bore
his share of expense, with the addition of post-horses. Whenever he
seemed to shrink from his augmenting indiscretion, Lord Lyttelton
assured him that, through his interest, an appointment of honourable and
pecuniary importance should be obtained, though I embraced every
opportunity to assure his lordship that no consideration upon earth
should ever make me the victim of his artifice.
[Illustration: _Lady Lyttelton_ Engraved by Chas. Townley from the
painting by Richard Casway]
Mr. Fitzgerald still paid me unremitting attention. His manners toward
women were beautifully interesting. He frequently cautioned me against
the libertine Lyttelton, and as frequently lamented the misguided
confidence which Mr. Robinson reposed in him. Lord Lyttelton's shameless
conduct toward an amiable wife, from whom he was separated, and his
cruel neglect of a lady of the name of Dawson, who had long been
attached to him, marked the unworthiness of his character. He was the
very last man in the world for whom I ever could have entertained the
smallest partiality; he was to me the most hateful of existing beings.
Probably these pages will be read when the hand that writes them
moulders in the grave, when that God who judges all hearts will know how
innocent I was of the smallest conjugal infidelity. I make this solemn
asseveration because there have been malevolent spirits who, in the
plenitude of their calumny, have slandered me by suspecting my fidelity
even at this early period of my existence. These pages are the pages of
truth, unadorned by romance and unembellished by the graces of
phraseology, and I know that I have been sufficiently the victim of
events too well to become the tacit acquiescer where I have been grossly
misrepresented. Alas! of all created beings, I have been the most
severely subjugated by circumstances more than by inclination.
About this time a party was one evening made to Vauxhall. Mr. Fitzgerald
was the person who proposed it, and it consisted of six or eight
persons. The night was warm and the gardens crowded. We supped in the
circle which has the statue of Handel in its centre. The hour growing
late,--or rather early in the morning,--our company dispersed, and no
one remained excepting Mr. Robinson, Mr. Fitzgerald, and myself.
Suddenly a noise was heard near the orchestra. A crowd had assembled,
and two gentlemen were quarrelling furiously. Mr. R. and Fitzgerald ran
out of the box. I rose to follow them, but they were lost in the throng,
and I thought it most prudent to resume my place, which I had just
quitted, as the only certain way of their finding me in safety. In a
moment Fitzgerald returned. "Robinson," said he, "is gone to seek you at
the entrance-door. He thought you had quitted the box."
"I did for a moment," said I, "but I was fearful of losing him in the
crowd, and therefore returned."
"Let me conduct you to the door; we shall certainly find him there,"
replied Mr. Fitzgerald. "I know that he will be uneasy."
I took his arm and we ran hastily toward the entrance-door on the
Vauxhall Road.
Mr. Robinson was not there. We proceeded to look for our carriage. It
stood at some distance. I was alarmed and bewildered. Mr. Fitzgerald
hurried me along. "Don't be uneasy; we shall certainly find him," said
he, "for I left him here not five minutes ago." As he spoke, he stopped
abruptly. A servant opened a chaise door. There were four horses
harnessed to it; and by the light of the lamps on the side of the
footpath, I plainly perceived a pistol in the pocket of the door which
was open. I drew back. Mr. Fitzgerald placed his arm around my waist,
and endeavoured to lift me up the step of the chaise, the servant
watching at a little distance. I resisted, and inquired what he meant
by such conduct. His hand trembled excessively, while he said, in a low
voice, "Robinson can but fight me." I was terrified beyond all
description. I made him loose his hold, and ran toward the
entrance-door. Mr. Fitzgerald now perceived Mr. Robinson. "Here he
comes!" exclaimed he, with easy nonchalance. "We had found the wrong
carriage, Mr. Robinson. We have been looking after you, and Mrs.
Robinson is alarmed beyond expression."
"I am, indeed!" said I. Mr. Robinson now took my hand. We stepped into
the coach, and Mr. Fitzgerald followed. As we proceeded toward Hatton
Garden, the sky incessantly flashed lightning. I was terrified by the
combination of events, and I was in a situation which rendered any alarm
peculiarly dangerous, for I was several months advanced in that state
which afterward terminated by presenting to me my only child, my darling
Maria.[17]
I had often heard of Mr. Fitzgerald's propensity to duelling. I
recollected my own delicate situation; I valued my husband's safety. I
therefore did not mention the adventure of the evening, particularly as
Mr. Fitzgerald observed, on our way to Hatton Garden, that he had
"nearly made a strange mistake, and taken possession of another person's
carriage." This remark appeared so plausible that nothing further was
said upon the subject.
From that evening I was particularly cautious in avoiding Fitzgerald. He
was too daring and too fascinating a being to be allowed the smallest
marks of confidence. Whenever he called, I was denied to him, and at
length, perceiving the impracticability of his plan, he desisted, and
seldom called, excepting to leave his name as a visitor of ceremony.
I do not recount these events, these plans for my enthralment, with a
view to convey anything like personal vanity, for I can with truth
affirm that I never thought myself entitled to admiration that could
endanger my security or tempt the libertine to undermine my husband's
honour. But I attribute the snares that were laid for me to three
causes: the first, my youth and inexperience, my girlish appearance and
simplicity of manners; secondly, the expensive style in which Mr.
Robinson lived, though he was not known as a man of independent fortune;
and thirdly, the evident neglect which I experienced from my husband,
whom Lord Lyttelton's society had marked as a man of universal
gallantry.
I was now known by name at every public place in and near the
metropolis. Our circle of acquaintances enlarged daily. My friend Lady
Yea was my constant companion. Mr. Robinson became desperate, from a
thorough conviction that no effort of economy or professional labour
could arrange his shattered finances, the large debt which he owed
previous to his marriage with me having laid the foundation of every
succeeding embarrassment.
The moment now approached when the arcanum was to be developed, and an
execution on Mr. Robinson's effects, at the suit of an annuitant,
decided the doubts and fears which had long afflicted me. I was in a
great degree prepared for this event by the evident inquietude of my
husband's mind, and his frequent interviews with persons of a mysterious
description. Indeed, this crisis seemed rather consolatory than
appalling, for I hoped and trusted that the time was now arrived when
reason would take place of folly, and experience point out those thorns
which strew the pleasurable paths of dissipation.
At this period, had Mr. Harris generously assisted his son, I am fully
and confidently persuaded that he would have pursued a discreet and
regular line of conduct. His first involvement was the basis of all his
misfortunes. The impossibility of liquidating that debt (the motive for
which it was contracted is to this hour unknown to me) rendered him
desperate. Indeed, how could a young man, well educated,[18] subsist in
such a metropolis without some provision? Mr. Harris was a man of
fortune, and he ought to have known that necessity is the most dangerous
associate of youth; that folly may be reclaimed by kindness, but seldom
fails to be darkened into vice by the severity of unpitying natures.
From Hatton Garden we removed to a house which was lent to us by a
friend at Finchley. Here I hoped at least to remain tranquil till the
perilous moment was passed which was to render me a mother. I here
devoted my time to making my infant's little wardrobe; my finest muslin
dresses I converted into frocks and robes, with my lace I fondly trimmed
them. It was a sweetly pleasing task, and I often smiled when I
reflected that only three years before this period I had dressed a waxen
doll nearly as large as a new-born infant.
Mr. Robinson had much business to transact in London, and I was almost
perpetually alone at Finchley. Of our domestic establishment there was
only one who did not desert us, and he was a negro!--one of that
despised, degraded race, who wear the colour on their features which too
often characterises the hearts of their fair and unfeeling oppressors. I
have found, during my journey through life, that the two male domestics
who were most attached to my interest and most faithful to my fortunes
were both negroes!
My mother now returned from Bristol, and I had the consolation of her
society. I divided my time betwixt reading, writing, and making a little
wardrobe for my expected darling. I little regretted the busy scenes of
life; I sighed not for public attention. I felt by this change of
situation as though a weighty load were taken from my heart, and solaced
my mind in the idea that the worst had happened which could befall us.
Gracious Heaven! How should I have shuddered, had I then contemplated
the dark perspective of my destiny!
Mr. Robinson went almost daily to London, and sometimes my brother
George, who was still a boy, accompanied him upon a little pony. One
day, after returning from one of their rides, my brother informed me
that he had been with Mr. Robinson to Marylebone, and that he had waited
and held Mr. Robinson's horse, while he made a morning visit. I had then
no acquaintance that resided at Marylebone. I questioned my brother as
to the place, and he persisted in his original story. "But," added he,
"if you say anything about it to Mr. Robinson, I never will tell you
where we go in future." I promised not to mention what he had said, and
my mind was deeply engaged in a variety of conjectures.
A few days after, Mr. Robinson made another visit, and my brother was
introduced to the lady. From the manner and conversation of both
parties, even a youth scarcely in his teens could draw conclusions of no
favourable nature. By the side of the chimney hung my watch, which I had
supposed lost in the general wreck of our property. It was enamelled
with musical trophies, and very remarkable for a steel chain of singular
beauty. The moment my brother described it my suspicions were confirmed;
and Mr. Robinson did not even attempt to deny his infidelity.
Mr. Robinson, finding his creditors inexorable, and fearing that he
might endanger his personal liberty by remaining near London, informed
me that I must, in a few days, accompany him to Tregunter. I felt a
severe pang in the idea of quitting my adored mother at a moment when I
should stand so much in need of a parent's attentions. My agony was
extreme. I fancied that I never should behold her more; that the
harshness and humiliating taunts of my husband's kindred would send me
prematurely to the grave; that my infant would be left among strangers,
and that my mother would scarcely have fortitude sufficient to survive
me. Then I anticipated the inconvenience of so long a journey, for
Tregunter House was within a few miles of Brecon. I dreaded to encounter
the scornful vulgarity and the keen glances of Miss Betsy and Mrs.
Molly. I considered all these things with horror; but the propriety of
wedded life commanded the sacrifice, and I readily consented to make it.
With tender regret, with agonising presentiments, I took leave of my
mother and my brother. Such a parting would but mock the powers of
language! My delicate situation, my youth, my affection for my best of
mothers, all conspired to augment my sorrow; but a husband's repose, a
husband's liberty were at stake, and my Creator can bear witness that,
had I been blessed with that fidelity and affection which I deserved, my
heart was disposed to the observance of every duty, every claim which
would have embellished domestic propriety.
We set out for Tregunter. On our arrival there, I instantly perceived
that our misfortunes had outstripped our speed. Miss Robinson scarcely
bade us welcome, and Molly was peevish, even to insulting displeasure.
Mr. Harris was from home when we arrived. But he returned shortly after.
His greeting was harsh and unfeeling. "Well! so you have escaped from a
prison, and now you are come here to do penance for your follies? Well!
and what do you want?" I could not reply. I entered the house, and
instantly hastened to my old chamber, where my tears gave relief to that
heart which was almost bursting with agony.
Still Mr. Robinson conjured me to bear his uncle's wayward temper
patiently, I did, though every day I was taunted with idle and inhuman
questions, such as, "How long do you think that I will support you? What
is to become of you in a prison? What business have beggars to marry?"
With many others, equally feeling and high-minded!
The mansion of Tregunter presented but few sources of amusement for the
female mind. Mr. Harris had acquired a considerable fortune in trade,
and, however the art of accumulating wealth had been successfully
practised, the finer pursuits of mental powers had been totally
neglected. Books were unknown at Tregunter, excepting a few magazines or
periodical publications, which at different periods Miss Robinson
borrowed from her juvenile neighbours. There was, however, an old spinet
in one of the parlours. Music had been one of my early delights, and I
sometimes vainly endeavoured to draw a kind of jingling harmony from
this time-shaken and neglected instrument. These attempts, however,
frequently subjected me to insult. "I had better think of getting my
bread; women of no fortune had no right to follow the pursuits of fine
ladies. Tom had better married a good tradesman's daughter than the
child of a ruined merchant who was not capable of earning a living."
Such were the remarks of my amiable and enlightened father-in-law!
One day, I particularly remember, Mr. Harris had invited a large party
to dinner, John and Charles Morgan, Esqrs., members of Parliament, with
an old clergyman of the name of Jones, and several others were present.
I was then within a fortnight of my perilous moment. One of the company
expressed his satisfaction that I was come to give Tregunter a little
stranger; and turning to Mr. Harris, added:
"You have just finished your house in time for a nursery."
"No, no," replied Mr. Harris, laughing, "they came here because prison
doors were open to receive them."
I felt my face redden to scarlet; every person present seemed to
sympathise in my chagrin, and I was near sinking under the table with
confusion. Mr. Robinson's indignation was evident; but it was restrained
by duty as well as by necessity.
The manor-house was not yet finished; and a few days after our arrival
Mr. Harris informed me that he had no accommodation for my approaching
confinement. Where was I to go? was the next question. After many family
consultations, it was decided that I should remove to Trevecca House,
about a mile and a half distant, and there give to this miserable world
my first-born darling.
I removed to Trevecca; it was a spacious mansion at the foot of a
stupendous mountain, which, from its form, was called the Sugar-loaf. A
part of the building was converted into a flannel manufactory, and the
inhabitants were of the Huntingdonian school. Here I enjoyed the sweet
repose of solitude; here I wandered about woods entangled by the wild
luxuriance of nature, or roved upon the mountain's side, while the blue
vapours floated around its summit. Oh, God of Nature! Sovereign of the
universe of wonders! in those interesting moments how fervently did I
adore thee!
How often have I sat at my little parlour window and watched the pale
moonbeams darting amidst the sombre and venerable yew-trees that shed
their solemn shade over the little garden! How often have I strolled
down the woody paths, spangled with the dew of morning, and shaken off
the briery branches that hung about me! How tranquil did I feel, escaped
from kindred tyranny, and how little did I regret the busy scenes of
fashionable folly! Unquestionably the Creator formed me with a strong
propensity to adore the sublime and beautiful of his works! But it has
never been my lot to meet with an associating mind, a congenial spirit,
who could (as it were abstracted from the world) find a universe in the
sacred intercourse of soul, the sublime union of sensibility.