I now take up my pen to lay before you the inducements and motive which
my friends have to espouse so earnestly the address of this Mr. Solmes.
In order to set this matter in a clear light, it is necessary to go a
little back, and even perhaps to mention some things which you already
know: and so you may look upon what I am going to relate, as a kind of
supplement to my letters of the 15th and 20th of January last.*
* Letters IV. and V.
In those letters, of which I have kept memorandums, I gave you an
account of my brother's and sister's antipathy to Mr. Lovelace; and the
methods they took (so far as they had then come to my knowledge) to ruin
him in the opinion of my other friends. And I told you, that after a
very cold, yet not a directly affrontive behaviour to him, they all of
a sudden* became more violent, and proceeded to personal insults; which
brought on at last the unhappy rencounter between my brother and him.
* See Letter IV.
Now you must know, that from the last conversation that passed between
my aunt and me, it comes out, that this sudden vehemence on my
brother's and sister's parts, was owing to stronger reasons than to the
college-begun antipathy on his side, or to slighted love on hers;
to wit, to an apprehension that my uncles intended to follow my
grandfather's example in my favour; at least in a higher degree
than they wish they should. An apprehension founded it seems on a
conversation between my two uncles and my brother and sister: which my
aunt communicated to me in confidence, as an argument to prevail upon
me to accept of Mr. Solmes's noble settlements: urging, that such a
seasonable compliance, would frustrate my brother's and sister's views,
and establish me for ever in the love of my father and uncles.
I will give you the substance of this communicated conversation, after
I have made a brief introductory observation or two, which however I
hardly need to make to you who are so well acquainted with us all, did
not the series or thread of the story require it.
I have more than once mentioned to you the darling view some of us have
long had of raising a family, as it is called. A reflection, as I have
often thought, upon our own, which is no considerable or upstart one, on
either side, on my mother's especially.--A view too frequently it
seems entertained by families which, having great substance, cannot be
satisfied without rank and title.
My uncles had once extended this view to each of us three children;
urging, that as they themselves intended not to marry, we each of
us might be so portioned, and so advantageously matched, as that
our posterity, if not ourselves, might make a first figure in our
country.--While my brother, as the only son, thought the two girls might
be very well provided for by ten or fifteen thousand pounds a-piece:
and that all the real estates in the family, to wit, my grandfather's,
father's, and two uncles', and the remainder of their respective
personal estates, together with what he had an expectation of from
his godmother, would make such a noble fortune, and give him such an
interest, as might entitle him to hope for a peerage. Nothing less would
satisfy his ambition.
With this view he gave himself airs very early; 'That his grandfather
and uncles were his stewards: that no man ever had better: that
daughters were but incumbrances and drawbacks upon a family:' and this
low and familiar expression was often in his mouth, and uttered always
with the self-complaisance which an imagined happy thought can be
supposed to give the speaker; to wit, 'That a man who has sons brings up
chickens for his own table,' [though once I made his comparison stagger
with him, by asking him, If the sons, to make it hold, were to have
their necks wrung off?] 'whereas daughters are chickens brought up
for tables of other men.' This, accompanied with the equally polite
reflection, 'That, to induce people to take them off their hands, the
family-stock must be impaired into the bargain,' used to put my sister
out of all patience: and, although she now seems to think a younger
sister only can be an incumbrance, she was then often proposing to me to
make a party in our own favour against my brother's rapacious views, as
she used to call them: while I was for considering the liberties he took
of this sort, as the effect of a temporary pleasantry, which, in a young
man, not naturally good-humoured, I was glad to see; or as a foible that
deserved raillery, but no other notice.
But when my grandfather's will (of the purport of which in my particular
favour, until it was opened, I was as ignorant as they) had lopped off
one branch of my brother's expectation, he was extremely dissatisfied
with me. Nobody indeed was pleased: for although every one loved me, yet
being the youngest child, father, uncles, brother, sister, all thought
themselves postponed, as to matter of right and power [Who loves not
power?]: And my father himself could not bear that I should be made
sole, as I may call it, and independent; for such the will, as to that
estate and the powers it gave, (unaccountably, as they all said,) made
me.
To obviate, therefore, every one's jealousy, I gave up to my father's
management, as you know, not only the estate, but the money bequeathed
me (which was a moiety of what my grandfather had by him at his death;
the other moiety being bequeathed to my sister); contenting myself
to take as from his bounty what he was pleased to allow me, without
desiring the least addition to my annual stipend. And then I hoped I had
laid all envy asleep: but still my brother and sister (jealous, as now
is evident, of my two uncles' favour of me, and of the pleasure I had
given my father and them by this act of duty) were every now-and-then
occasionally doing me covert ill offices: of which, however, I took the
less notice, when I was told of them, as I thought I had removed the
cause of their envy; and I imputed every thing of that sort to the
petulance they are both pretty much noted for.
My brother's acquisition then took place. This made us all very happy;
and he went down to take possession of it: and his absence (on so good
an account too) made us still happier. Then followed Lord M.'s proposal
for my sister: and this was an additional felicity for the time. I have
told you how exceedingly good-humoured it made my sister.
You know how that went off: you know what came on in its place.
My brother then returned; and we were all wrong again: and Bella, as
I observed in my letters abovementioned, had an opportunity to give
herself the credit of having refused Mr. Lovelace, on the score of his
reputed faulty morals. This united my brother and sister in one cause.
They set themselves on all occasions to depreciate Mr. Lovelace, and his
family too (a family which deserves nothing but respect): and this gave
rise to the conversation I am leading to, between my uncles and them: of
which I now come to give the particulars; after I have observed, that it
happened before the rencounter, and soon after the inquiry made into Mr.
Lovelace's affairs had come out better than my brother and sister hoped
it would.*
* See Letter IV.
They were bitterly inveighing against him, in their usual way,
strengthening their invectives with some new stories in his disfavour,
when my uncle Antony, having given them a patient hearing, declared,
'That he thought the gentleman behaved like a gentleman; his niece Clary
with prudence; and that a more honourable alliance for the family, as he
had often told them, could not be wished for: since Mr. Lovelace had a
very good paternal estate; and that, by the evidence of an enemy,
all clear. Nor did it appear, that he was so bad a man as he had been
represented to be: wild indeed; but it was a gay time of life: he was a
man of sense: and he was sure that his niece would not have him, if
she had not good reason to think him reformed, or that there was a
likelihood that she could reform him by her example.'
My uncle then gave one instance, my aunt told me, as a proof of a
generosity in Mr. Lovelace's spirit, which convinced him that he was not
a bad man in nature; and that he was of a temper, he was pleased to say,
like my own; which was, That when he (my uncle) had represented to him,
that he might, if he pleased, make three or four hundred pounds a year
of his paternal estate, more than he did; he answered, 'That his tenants
paid their rents well: that it was a maxim with his family, from which
he would by no means depart, Never to rack-rent old tenants, or their
descendants; and that it was a pleasure to him, to see all his tenants
look fat, sleek, and contented.'
I indeed had once occasionally heard him say something like this; and
thought he never looked so well as at that time;--except once; and that
was in an instance given by him on the following incident.
An unhappy tenant of my uncle Antony came petitioning to my uncle
for forbearance, in Mr. Lovelace's presence. When he had fruitlessly
withdrawn, Mr. Lovelace pleaded his cause so well, that the man was
called in again, and had his suit granted. And Mr. Lovelace privately
followed him out, and gave him two guineas, for present relief; the
man having declared, that, at the time, he had not five shilling in the
world.
On this occasion, he told my uncle (but without any airs of
ostentation), that he had once observed an old tenant and his wife in a
very mean habit at church; and questioning them about it the next day,
as he knew they had no hard bargain in their farm, the man said, he had
done some very foolish things with a good intention, which had put him
behind-hand, and he could not have paid his rent, and appear better.
He asked him how long it would take him to retrieve the foolish step
he acknowledged he had made. He said, Perhaps two or three years. Well
then, said he, I will abate you five pounds a year for seven years,
provided you will lay it upon your wife and self, that you may make a
Sunday-appearance like MY tenants. Mean time, take this (putting his
hand in his pocket, and giving him five guineas), to put yourselves in
present plight; and let me see you next Sunday at church, hand in hand,
like an honest and loving couple; and I bespeak you to dine with me
afterwards.
Although this pleased me when I heard it, as giving an instance of
generosity and prudence at the same time, not lessening (as my uncle
took notice) the yearly value of the farm, yet, my dear, I had no
throbs, no glows upon it!--Upon my word, I had not. Nevertheless I own
to you, that I could not help saying to myself on the occasion, 'Were it
ever to be my lot to have this man, he would not hinder me from pursuing
the methods I so much delight to take'--With 'A pity, that such a man
were not uniformly good!'
Forgive me this digression.
My uncle went on (as my aunt told me), 'That, besides his paternal
estate, he was the immediate heir to very splendid fortunes: that, when
he was in treaty for his niece Arabella, Lord M. told him (my uncle)
what great things he and his two half-sisters intended to do for him,
in order to qualify him for the title, which would be extinct at his
Lordship's death, and which they hoped to procure for him, or a still
higher, that of those ladies' father, which had been for some time
extinct on failure of heirs male: that it was with this view that his
relations were all so earnest for his marrying: that as he saw not
where Mr. Lovelace could better himself; so, truly, he thought there was
wealth enough in their own family to build up three considerable ones:
that, therefore, he must needs say, he was the more desirous of this
alliance, as there was a great probability, not only from Mr. Lovelace's
descent, but from his fortunes, that his niece Clarissa might one day
be a peeress of Great Britain:--and, upon that prospect [here was the
mortifying stroke], he should, for his own part, think it not wrong to
make such dispositions as should contribute to the better support of the
dignity.'
My uncle Harlowe, it seems, far from disapproving of what his brother
had said, declared, 'That there was but one objection to an alliance
with Mr. Lovelace; to wit, his faulty morals: especially as so much
could be done for Miss Bella, and for my brother too, by my father; and
as my brother was actually possessed of a considerable estate by virtue
of the deed of gift and will of his godmother Lovell.'
Had I known this before, I should the less have wondered at many things
I have been unable to account for in my brother's and sister's behaviour
to me; and been more on my guard than I imagined there was a necessity
to be.
You may easily guess how much this conversation affected my brother at
the time. He could not, you know, but be very uneasy to hear two of his
stewards talk at this rate to his face.
He had from early days, by his violent temper, made himself both feared
and courted by the whole family. My father himself, as I have lately
mentioned, very often (long before my brother's acquisition had made him
still more assuming) gave way to him, as to an only son who was to build
up the name, and augment the honour of it. Little inducement, therefore,
had my brother to correct a temper which gave him so much consideration
with every body.
'See, Sister Bella,' said he, in an indecent passion before my uncles,
on this occasion I have mentioned--'See how it is!--You and I ought to
look about us!--This little syren is in a fair way to out-uncle, as she
has already out-grandfather'd, us both!'
From this time (as I now find it plain upon recollection) did my brother
and sister behave to me, as to one who stood in their way; and to each
other as having but one interest: and were resolved, therefore, to bend
all their force to hinder an alliance from taking effect, which they
believed was likely to oblige them to contract their views.
And how was this to be done, after such a declaration from both my
uncles?
My brother found out the way. My sister (as I have said) went hand in
hand with him. Between them, the family union was broke, and every one
was made uneasy. Mr. Lovelace was received more and more coldly by all:
but not being to be put out of his course by slights only, personal
affronts succeeded; defiances next; then the rencounter: that, as you
have heard, did the business. And now, if I do not oblige them, my
grandfather's estate is to be litigated with me; and I, who never
designed to take advantage of the independency bequeathed me, am to be
as dependent upon my father's will, as a daughter ought to be who knows
not what is good for herself. This is the language of the family now.
But if I will suffer myself to be prevailed upon, how happy (as they lay
it out) shall we all be!--Such presents am I to have, such jewels, and
I cannot tell what, from every one in the family! Then Mr. Solmes's
fortunes are so great, and his proposals so very advantageous, (no
relation whom he values,) that there will be abundant room to raise
mine upon them, were the high-intended favours of my own relations to
be quite out of the question. Moreover, it is now, with this view,
found out, that I have qualifications which of themselves will be a full
equivalent to Mr. Solmes for the settlements he is to make; and still
leave him under an obligation to me for my compliance. He himself thinks
so, I am told--so very poor a creature is he, even in his own eyes, as
well as in theirs.
These desirable views answered, how rich, how splendid shall we all
three be! And I--what obligations shall I lay upon them all!--And that
only by doing an act of duty so suitable to my character, and manner of
thinking; if, indeed, I am the generous as well as dutiful creature I
have hitherto made them believe I am.
This is the bright side that is turned to my father and uncles, to
captivate them: but I am afraid that my brother's and sister's design is
to ruin me with them at any rate. Were it otherwise, would they not on
my return from you have rather sought to court than frighten me into
measures which their hearts are so much bent to carry? A method they
have followed ever since.
Mean time, orders are given to all the servants to shew the highest
respect to Mr. Solmes; the generous Mr. Solmes is now his character with
some of our family! But are not these orders a tacit confession,
that they think his own merit will not procure him respect? He is
accordingly, in every visit he makes, not only highly caressed by the
principals of our family, but obsequiously attended and cringed to by
the menials.--And the noble settlements are echoed from every mouth.
Noble is the word used to enforce the offers of a man who is mean enough
avowedly to hate, and wicked enough to propose to rob of their just
expectations, his own family, (every one of which at the same time
stands in too much need of his favour,) in order to settle all he is
worth upon me; and if I die without children, and he has none by any
other marriage, upon a family which already abounds. Such are his
proposals.
But were there no other motive to induce me to despise the upstart man,
is not this unjust one to his family enough?--The upstart man, I repeat;
for he was not born to the immense riches he is possessed of: riches
left by one niggard to another, in injury to the next heir, because that
other is a niggard. And should I not be as culpable, do you think, in my
acceptance of such unjust settlements, as he is in the offer of them, if
I could persuade myself to be a sharer in them, or suffer a reversionary
expectation of possessing them to influence my choice?
Indeed, it concerns me not a little, that my friends could be brought to
encourage such offers on such motives as I think a person of conscience
should not presume to begin the world with.
But this it seems is the only method that can be taken to disappoint Mr.
Lovelace; and at the same time to answer all my relations have wish for
each of us. And surely I will not stand against such an accession to the
family as may happen from marrying Mr. Solmes: since now a possibility
is discovered, (which such a grasping mind as my brother's can easily
turn into a probability,) that my grandfather's estate will revert to
it, with a much more considerable one of the man's own. Instances of
estates falling in, in cases far more unlikely than this, are insisted
upon; and my sister says, in the words of an old saw, It is good to be
related to an estate.
While Solmes, smiling no doubt to himself at a hope so remote, by offers
only, obtains all their interests; and doubts not to join to his own
the estate I am envied for; which, for the conveniency of its situation
between two of his, will it seems be of twice the value to him that
it would be of to any other person; and is therefore, I doubt not, a
stronger motive with him than the wife.
These, my dear, seem to me the principal inducements of my relations to
espouse so vehemently as they do this man's suit. And here, once more,
must I deplore the family fault, which gives those inducements such a
force as it will be difficult to resist.
And thus far, let matters with regard to Mr. Solmes and me come out as
they will, my brother has succeeded in his views; that is to say, he
has, in the first place, got my FATHER to make the cause his own, and to
insist upon my compliance as an act of duty.
My MOTHER has never thought fit to oppose my father's will, when once he
has declared himself determined.
My UNCLES, stiff, unbroken, highly-prosperous bachelors, give me leave
to say, (though very worthy persons in the main,) have as high notions
of a child's duty, as of a wife's obedience; in the last of which, my
mother's meekness has confirmed them, and given them greater reason to
expect the first.
My aunt HERVEY (not extremely happy in her own nuptials, and perhaps
under some little obligation) is got over, and chuses [sic] not to
open her lips in my favour against the wills of a father and uncles so
determined.
This passiveness in my mother and in my aunt, in a point so contrary
to their own first judgments, is too strong a proof that my father is
absolutely resolved.
Their treatment of my worthy MRS. NORTON is a sad confirmation of it:
a woman deserving of all consideration for her wisdom, and every body
thinking so; but who, not being wealthy enough to have due weight in a
point against which she has given her opinion, and which they seem
bent upon carrying, is restrained from visiting here, and even from
corresponding with me, as I am this very day informed.
Hatred to Lovelace, family aggrandizement, and this great motive
paternal authority!--What a force united must they be supposed to have,
when singly each consideration is sufficient to carry all before it!
This is the formidable appearance which the address of this disagreeable
man wears at present.
My BROTHER and my SISTER triumph.--They have got me down, as Hannah
overheard them exult. And so they have (yet I never knew that I
was insolently up); for now my brother will either lay me under an
obligation to comply to my own unhappiness, and so make me an instrument
of his revenge upon Lovelace; or, if I refuse, will throw me into
disgrace with my whole family.
Who will wonder at the intrigues and plots carried on by undermining
courtiers against one another, when a private family, but three of which
can possibly have clashing interests, and one of them (as she presumes
to think) above such low motives, cannot be free from them?
What at present most concerns me, is, the peace of my mother's mind!
How can the husband of such a wife (a good man too!--But oh! this
prerogative of manhood!) be so positive, so unpersuadable, to one who
has brought into the family means, which they know so well the value of,
that methinks they should value her the more for their sake?
They do indeed value her: but, I am sorry to say, she has purchased
that value by her compliances; yet has merit for which she ought to be
venerated; prudence which ought of itself to be conformed to in every
thing.
But whither roves my pen? How dare a perverse girl take these liberties
with relations so very respectable, and whom she highly respects? What
an unhappy situation is that which obliges her, in her own defence as it
were, to expose their failings?
But you, who know how much I love and reverence my mother, will judge
what a difficulty I am under, to be obliged to oppose a scheme which she
has engaged in. Yet I must oppose it (to comply is impossible); and must
without delay declare my opposition, or my difficulties will increase;
since, as I am just now informed, a lawyer has been this very day
consulted [Would you have believed it?] in relation to settlements.
Were ours a Roman Catholic family, how much happier for me, that they
thought a nunnery would answer all their views!--How happy, had not
a certain person slighted somebody! All then would have been probably
concluded between them before my brother had arrived to thwart
the match: then had I a sister; which now I have not; and two
brothers;--both aspiring; possibly both titled: while I should only have
valued that in either which is above title, that which is truly noble in
both!
But by what a long-reaching selfishness is my brother governed! By what
remote, exceedingly remote views! Views, which it is in the power of the
slightest accident, of a fever, for instance, (the seeds of which are
always vegetating, as I may say, and ready to burst forth, in his own
impetuous temper,) or of the provoked weapon of an adversary, to blow up
and destroy!
I will break off here. Let me write ever so freely of my friends, I am
sure of your kind construction: and I confide in your discretion, that
you will avoid reading to or transcribing for others such passages as
may have the appearance of treating too freely the parental, or even the
fraternal character, or induce others to censure for a supposed failure
in duty to the one, or decency to the other,
Your truly affectionate, CL. HARLOWE.