Beaux and Belles of England by Mary Robinson

M >> Mary Robinson >> Beaux and Belles of England

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It was Mr. Garrick's particular request that I would frequent the
theatre as much as possible till the period fixed on for my appearance
on the stage. I had now just completed my fifteenth year, and my little
heart throbbed with impatience for the hour of trial. My tutor was most
sanguine in his expectations of my success, and every rehearsal seemed
to strengthen his flattering opinion.

It happened that, several evenings following, the stranger officer,
whose name, for motives of delicacy toward his family, I forbear to
mention, followed me to and from the theatre. It was in vain that he
offered his attentions in the box; my mother's frown and assiduous care
repulsed them effectually. But the perseverance of a bad mind in the
accomplishment of a bad action is not to be subdued. A letter was
written and conveyed to me through the hands of a female servant; I
opened it; I read a declaration of the most ardent love. The writer
avowed himself the son of Lady----, and offered marriage; he was
graceful and handsome. I instantly delivered the letter to my mother,
and, shortly after, he was, by an acquaintance, presented with
decorous ceremony.

The idea of my appearing on the stage seemed to distract this
accomplished suitor. My mother, who but half approved a dramatic life,
was more than half inclined to favour the addresses of Captain ----. The
injunction of my father every hour became more indelibly impressed on
her memory; she knew his stern and invincible sense of honour too well
to hazard the thought of awakening it to vengeance.

After a short period, the friend who had presented Captain----, alarmed
for my safety, and actuated by a liberal wish to defend me from the
artifice of his associate, waited on my mother, and, after some
hesitation, informed her that my lover was already married; that he had
a young and amiable wife in a sister kingdom, and that he apprehended
some diabolical stratagem for the enthralment of my honour. My mother's
consternation was infinite. The important secret was communicated to me,
and I felt little regret in the loss of a husband when I reflected that
a matrimonial alliance would have compelled me to relinquish my
theatrical profession.

I had, also, at this period, another professed admirer, a man of
splendid fortune, but nearly old enough to be my grandfather. This suit
I never would listen to; and the drama, the delightful drama, seemed the
very criterion of all human happiness.

I now found myself an object of attention whenever I appeared at the
theatre. I had been too often in public not to be observed, and it was
buzzed about that I was the juvenile pupil of Garrick,--the promised
Cordelia. My person improved daily; yet a sort of dignified air, which
from a child I had acquired, effectually shielded me from the attacks of
impertinence or curiosity. Garrick was delighted with everything I did.
He would sometimes dance a minuet with me, sometimes request me to sing
the favourite ballads of the day; but the circumstance which most
pleased him was my tone of voice, which he frequently told me closely
resembled that of his favourite Cibber.[9]

Never shall I forget the enchanting hours which I passed in Mr.
Garrick's society; he appeared to me as one who possessed more power,
both to awe and to attract, than any man I ever met with. His smile was
fascinating, but he had at times a restless peevishness of tone which
excessively affected his hearers; at least it affected me so that I
never shall forget it.

Opposite to the house in which I resided lived John Vernon, Esq., an
eminent solicitor. I observed a young inmate of his habitation
frequently watching me with more than ordinary attention. He was
handsome in person, and his countenance was overcast by a sort of
languor, the effect of sickness, which rendered it peculiarly
interesting. Frequently, when I approached the window of our
drawing-room, this young observer would bow or turn away with evident
emotion. I related the circumstance to my mother, and from that time the
lower shutters of our windows were perpetually closed. The young lawyer
often excited my mirth, and my mother's indignation; and the injunction
of my father was frequently repeated by her, with the addition of her
wish, that I was "once well married."

Every attention which was now paid to me augmented my dear mother's
apprehensions. She fancied every man a seducer, and every hour an hour
of accumulating peril! I know what she was doomed to feel, for that
Being who formed my sensitive and perpetually aching heart knows that I
have since felt it.

Among other friends who were in the habit of visiting my mother there
was one, a Mr. Wayman, an attorney of whom she entertained the highest
opinion. He was distinguished by the patronage of Mr. Cox, and his
reputation required no other voucher. One evening a party of six was
proposed for the following Sunday; with much persuasion my mother
consented to go, and to allow that I should also attend her. Greenwich
was the place fixed on for the dinner, and we prepared for the day of
recreation. It was then the fashion to wear silks. I remember that I
wore a nightgown of pale blue lustring, with a chip hat trimmed with
ribands of the same colour. Never was I dressed so perfectly to my own
satisfaction; I anticipated a day of admiration. Heaven can bear witness
that to me it was a day of fatal victory!

On our stopping at the "Star and Garter," at Greenwich, the person who
came to hand me from the carriage was our opposite neighbour in
Southampton Buildings. I was confused, but my mother was indignant. Mr.
Wayman presented his young friend,--that friend who was ordained to be
my husband!

Our party dined, and early in the evening we returned to London. Mr.
Robinson remained at Greenwich for the benefit of the air, being
recently recovered from a fit of sickness. During the remainder of the
evening Mr. Wayman expatiated on the many good qualities of his friend
Mr. Robinson: spoke of his future expectations a rich old uncle; of his
probable advancement in his profession; and, more than all, of his
enthusiastic admiration of me.

A few days after, Mr. Robinson paid my mother a visit. We had now
removed to Villars Street, York Buildings. My mother's fondness for
books of a moral and religious character was not lost upon my new lover,
and elegantly bound editions of Hervey's "Meditations," with some others
of a similar description, were presented as small tokens of admiration
and respect. My mother was beguiled by these little interesting
attentions, and soon began to feel a strong predilection in favour of
Mr. Robinson.

Every day some new mark of respect augmented my mother's favourable
opinion; till Mr. Robinson became so great a favourite that he seemed to
her the most perfect of existing beings. Just at this period my brother
George sickened for the smallpox; my mother idolised him; he was
dangerously ill. Mr. Robinson was indefatigable in his attentions, and
my appearance on the stage was postponed till the period of his perfect
recovery. Day and night Mr. Robinson devoted himself to the task of
consoling my mother, and of attending to her darling boy; hourly, and
indeed momentarily, Mr. Robinson's praises were reiterated with
enthusiasm by my mother. He was "the kindest, the best of mortals!" the
least addicted to worldly follies, and the man, of all others, whom she
should adore as a son-in-law.

My brother recovered at the period when I sickened from the infection of
his disease. I felt little terror at the approaches of a dangerous and
deforming malady; for, I know not why, but personal beauty has never
been to me an object of material solicitude. It was now that Mr.
Robinson exerted all his assiduity to win my affections; it was when a
destructive disorder menaced my features and the few graces that nature
had lent them, that he professed a disinterested fondness; every day he
attended with the zeal of a brother, and that zeal made an impression of
gratitude upon my heart, which was the source of all my
succeeding sorrows.

During my illness Mr. Robinson so powerfully wrought upon the feelings
of my mother, that she prevailed on me to promise, in case I should
recover, to give him my hand in marriage. The words of my father were
frequently repeated, not without some innuendoes that I refused my ready
consent to a union with Mr. Robinson from a blind partiality to the
libertine Captain----. Repeatedly urged and hourly reminded of my
father's vow, I at last consented, and the banns were published while I
was yet lying on a bed of sickness. I was then only a few months
advanced in my sixteenth year.

My mother, whose affection for me was boundless, notwithstanding her
hopes of my forming an alliance that would be productive of felicity,
still felt the most severe pain at the thought of our approaching
separation. She was estranged from her husband's affections; she had
treasured up all her fondest hopes in the society of an only daughter;
she knew that no earthly pleasure can compensate for the loss of that
sweet sympathy which is the bond of union betwixt child and parent. Her
regrets were infinite as they were evident, and Mr. Robinson, in order
to remove any obstacle which this consideration might throw in the way
of our marriage, voluntarily proposed that she should reside with us. He
represented me as too young and inexperienced to superintend domestic
concerns; and while he flattered my mother's _armour propre_, he rather
requested her aid as a sacrifice to his interest than as an obligation
conferred on her.

The banns were published three successive Sundays at St. Martin's
Church, and the day was fixed for our marriage,--the twelfth of April.
It was not till all preliminaries were adjusted that Mr. Robinson, with
much apparent agitation, suggested the necessity of keeping our union a
secret. I was astonished at the proposal; but two reasons were given for
his having made it, both of which seemed plausible; the first was, that
Mr. Robinson had still three months to serve before his articles to
Messrs. Vernon and Elderton expired; and the second was, the hope which
a young lady entertained of forming a matrimonial union with Mr.
Robinson as soon as that period should arrive. The latter reason alarmed
me, but I was most solemnly assured that all the affection was cherished
on the lady's part; that Mr. Robinson was particularly averse to the
idea of such a marriage, and that as soon as he should become of age his
independence would place him beyond the control of any person
whatsoever.

I now proposed deferring our wedding-day till that period. I pleaded
that I thought myself too young to encounter the cares and important
duties of domestic life; I shrunk from the idea of everything
clandestine, and anticipated a thousand ill consequences that might
attend on a concealed marriage. My scruples only seemed to increase Mr.
Robinson's impatience for that ceremony which should make me his for
ever. He represented to my mother the disapprobation which my father
would not fail to evince at my adopting a theatrical life in preference
to engaging in an honourable and prosperous connection. He so powerfully
worked upon the credulity of my beloved parent that she became a decided
convert to his opinions. My youth, my person, he represented as the
destined snares for my honour on a public stage, where all the
attractions of the mimic scene would combine to render me a fascinating
object. He also persuaded her that my health would suffer by the
fatigues and exertions of the profession, and that probably I might be
induced to marry some man who would not approve of a mother's forming a
part in our domestic establishment.

These circumstances were repeatedly urged in favour of the union. Still
I felt an almost instinctive repugnance at the thought of a clandestine
marriage. My mother, whose parental fondness was ever watchful for my
safety, now imagined that my objections proceeded from a fixed
partiality toward the libertine Captain----, who, though he had not the
temerity to present himself before my mother, persisted in writing to
me, and in following me whenever I appeared in public. I never spoke to
him after the story of his marriage was repeated to my mother; I never
corresponded with him, but felt a decided and proud indignation whenever
his name was mentioned in my presence.

My appearance on the stage had been put off from time to time, till Mr.
Garrick became impatient, and desired my mother to allow of his fixing
the night of important trial. It was now that Mr. Robinson and my mother
united in persuading me to relinquish my project; and so perpetually,
during three days, was I tormented on the subject, so ridiculed for
having permitted the banns to be published, and afterward hesitating to
fulfil my contract, that I consented--and was married.

As soon as the day of my wedding was fixed, it was deemed necessary that
a total revolution should take place in my external appearance. I had
till that period worn the habit of a child, and the dress of a woman, so
suddenly assumed, sat rather awkwardly upon me. Still, so juvenile was
my appearance, that, even two years after my union with Mr. Robinson, I
was always accosted with the appellation of "Miss" whenever I entered a
shop or was in company with strangers. My manners were no less childish
than my appearance; only three months before I became a wife I had
dressed a doll, and such was my dislike to the idea of a matrimonial
alliance that the only circumstance which induced me to marry was that
of being still permitted to reside with my mother, and to live
separated, at least for some time, from my husband.

My heart, even when I knelt at the altar, was as free from any tender
impression as it had been at the moment of my birth. I knew not the
sensation of any sentiment beyond that of esteem; love was still a
stranger to my bosom. I had never, then, seen the being who was destined
to inspire a thought which might influence my fancy or excite an
interest in my mind, and I well remember that, even while I was
pronouncing the marriage vow, my fancy involuntarily wandered to that
scene where I had hoped to support myself with _éclat_ and reputation.

The ceremony was performed by Doctor Saunders, the venerable vicar of
St. Martin's, who, at the conclusion of the ceremony, declared that he
had never before performed the office for so young a bride. The clerk
officiated as father; my mother and the woman who opened the pews were
the only witnesses to the union. I was dressed in the habit of a
Quaker,--a society to which, in early youth, I was particularly partial.
From the church we repaired to the house of a female friend, where a
splendid breakfast was waiting; I changed my dress to one of white
muslin, a chip hat adorned with white ribbons, a white sarsnet
scarf-cloak, and slippers of white satin embroidered with silver. I
mention these trifling circumstances because they lead to some others of
more importance.

From the house of my mother's friend we set out for the inn at
Maidenhead Bridge, Mr. Robinson and myself in a phaeton, my mother in a
post-chaise; we were also accompanied by a gentleman by the name of
Balack, a very intimate acquaintance and schoolfellow of my husband, who
was not apprised of our wedding, but who nevertheless considered Mr.
Robinson as my avowed suitor.

On his first seeing me, he remarked that I was "dressed like a bride."
The observation overwhelmed me with confusion. During the day I was more
than pensive,--I was melancholy; I considered all that had passed as a
vision, and would scarcely persuade myself that the union which I had
permitted to be solemnised was indissoluble. My mother frequently
remarked my evident chagrin; and in the evening, while we strolled
together in the garden which was opposite the inn, I told her, with a
torrent of tears, the vouchers of my sincerity, that I was the most
wretched of mortals! that I felt the most perfect esteem for Mr.
Robinson, but that, according to my ideas of domestic happiness, there
should be a warm and powerful union of soul, to which I was yet totally
a stranger.

During my absence from town, a letter was written to Mr. Garrick,
informing him that an advantageous marriage (for my mother considered
Mr. Robinson as the legal heir to a handsome fortune, together with an
estate in South Wales) had induced me to relinquish my theatrical
prospects; and a few weeks after, meeting Mr. Garrick in the street, he
congratulated me on my union, and expressed the warmest wishes for my
future happiness.

The day after our marriage, Mr. Robinson proposed dining at
Henley-upon-Thames. My mother would not venture in the phaeton, and Mr.
Balack occupied the place which was declined by her. On taking his seat
between Robinson and myself, he remarked, "Were you married, I should
think of the holy anathema,--Cursed is he that parteth man and wife." My
countenance was suddenly suffused with the deepest scarlet; I cautiously
concealed the effect which his remarks had produced, and we proceeded on
our journey.

Descending a steep hill, betwixt Maidenhead Thicket and Henley, we met a
drove of oxen. The comic opera of the "Padlock" was then in high
celebrity, and our facetious little friend a second time disconcerted me
by saying, in the words of Don Diego, "I don't like oxen, I wish they
had been a flock of sheep!" I now began to discover the variety of
unpleasant sensations which, even undesignedly, must arise from
conversation, in the presence of those who were clandestinely married. I
also trembled with apprehension, lest anything disgraceful should attach
itself to my fame, by being seen under doubtful circumstances in the
society of Mr. Robinson.

On our return to London, after ten days' absence, a house was hired in
Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. It was a large, old-fashioned
mansion, and stood on the spot where the Freemasons' Tavern has been
since erected. This house was the property of a lady, an acquaintance of
my mother, the widow of Mr. Worlidge, an artist of considerable
celebrity. It was handsomely furnished, and contained many valuable
pictures by various masters. I resided with my mother; Mr. Robinson
continued at the house of Messrs. Vernon and Elderton, in Southampton
Buildings.

The stated time of concealment elapsed, and still my husband was
perpetually at chambers in Lincoln's Inn. Still he was evidently under
the control of his articles, and still desirous that our marriage should
be kept a secret. My mother began to feel a considerable degree of
inquietude upon the subject; particularly as she was informed that Mr.
Robinson was not exactly in that state of expectation which he had
represented. She found that he was already of age, and that he had still
some months to serve of his clerkship. She also heard that he was not
the nephew and heir, but the illegitimate son of the man from whom he
expected a handsome fortune; though he had an elder brother, now
Commodore William Robinson, who was then in India, reaping the fruits of
industry under the patronage of Lord Clive.

It was now for the first time that my mother repented the influence she
had used in promoting our union. She informed Mr. Robinson that she
apprehended some gross deception on his part, and that she would no
longer consent to our marriage being kept a secret. The reputation of a
darling child, she alleged, was at stake; and though during a few weeks
the world might have been kept in ignorance of my marriage, some
circumstances that had transpired, now rendered an immediate disclosure
absolutely necessary.

Mr. Robinson, finding my mother inexorable, resolved on setting out for
Wales, in order to avow our marriage, and to present me to his "uncle,"
for such he still obstinately denominated his father. My mother wished
to avail herself of this opportunity to visit her friends at Bristol,
and accordingly we set out on the journey. We passed through Oxford;
visited the different colleges; proceeded to Blenheim, and made the tour
a tour of pleasure, with the hope of soothing my mother's resentment,
and exhilarating my spirits, which were now perpetually dejected. I
cannot help mentioning that, shortly after my marriage, I formed an
acquaintance with a young lady, whose mind was no less romantic than my
own, and while Mr. Robinson was occupied at chambers, we almost daily
passed our morning hours in Westminster Abbey. It was to me a soothing
and a gratifying scene of meditation. I have often remained in the
gloomy chapels of that sublime fabric till I became, as it were, an
inhabitant of another world. The dim light of the Gothic windows, the
vibration of my footsteps along the lofty aisles, the train of
reflections that the scene inspired, were all suited to the temper of my
soul; and the melancholy propensities of my earliest infancy seemed to
revive with an instinctive energy, which rendered them the leading
characteristics of my existence. Indeed, the world has mistaken the
character of my mind; I have ever been the reverse of volatile and
dissipated. I mean not to write my own eulogy, though with the candid
and sensitive mind I shall, I trust, succeed in my vindication.

On our arrival at Bristol, Mr. Robinson thought it most advisable to
proceed toward Tregunter, the seat of his "uncle," alone, in order to
prepare him for my cordial reception, or to avoid the mortification I
should experience, should he refuse to sanction our union. Mr. Robinson
left me a few guineas, and promised that his absence should be short,
and his affection increasing.

I had now been married near four months; and, though love was not the
basis of my fidelity, honour, and a refined sense of feminine rectitude,
attached me to the interest as well as to the person of my husband. I
considered chastity as the brightest ornament that could embellish the
female mind, and I regulated my conduct to that tenor which has
principle more than affection to strengthen its progress.

At Bristol my mother experienced the most gratifying reception; all her
former friends rejoiced to see her; I was invited daily to feasts of
hospitality, and I found that fortune was to common minds a never
failing passport. Mr. Robinson was represented as a young man of
considerable expectations, and his wife was consequently again received
as the daughter of Mr. Darby. The house in which I first opened my eyes
to this world of sorrow, the minster, its green, the schoolhouse where I
had passed many days, the tomb of my lost relatives in the church of St.
Augustine, were all visited by me with a sweet and melancholy interest.
But the cathedral, the brass eagle in the middle aisle, under which,
when an infant, I used to sit and join in the loud anthem, or chant the
morning service, most sensibly attached me. I longed again to occupy my
place beneath its expanding wings, and once I went before the service
began to gratify my inclination.

Language cannot describe the sort of sensation which I felt when I heard
the well-known, long-remembered organ flinging its loud peal through the
Gothic structure. I hastened to the cloisters. The nursery windows were
dim and shattered; the house was sinking to decay. The mouldering walk
was gloomy, and my spirits were depressed beyond description: I stood
alone, rapt in meditation, "Here," said I, "did my infant feet pace to
and fro; here did I climb the long stone bench, and swiftly measure it
at the peril of my safety. On those dark and winding steps did I sit and
listen to the full-toned organ, the loud anthem, the bell which called
the parishioners to prayer." I entered the cathedral once more; I read
and re-read the monumental inscriptions; I paused upon the grave of
Powell; I dropped a tear on the small square ground tablet which bore
the name of Evelyn. Ah! how little has the misjudging world known of
what has passed in my mind, even in the apparently gayest moments of my
existence! How much have I regretted that ever I was born, even when I
have been surrounded with all that could gratify the vanity of woman!

Mr. Robinson, on his arrival at Tregunter, despatched a letter informing
me that his "uncle" seemed disposed to act handsomely, but that he had
only ventured to avow an intention to marry, fearful of abruptly
declaring that he had been already some months a husband. Mr. Harris,
for that was the name of my father-in-law, replied that "he hoped the
object of his choice was not too young!" At this question Mr. Robinson
was somewhat disconcerted. "A young wife," continued Mr. Harris, "cannot
mend a man's fortune. How old is the girl you have chosen?"

"She is nearly seventeen!"

I was then only fifteen and a few months.[10]

"I hope she is not handsome," was the second observation. "You say she
is not rich; and beauty without money is but a dangerous sort
of portion."

"Will you see her?"

"I have no objection," said Mr. Harris.

"She is now with her mother at Bristol,--for," continued Mr. Robinson,
with some hesitation, "she is my wife."

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