u
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
Ex Libris
[ C. K. OGDEN
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MRS. FLETCHER.
Edinburgh : Printed by Thomas mid Archibald Constable,
FOB
EDMON8TON AND DOUGLAS.
LONDON HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO.
CAMBRIDGE MACMILLAN AND CO.
GLASGOW JAMES MACLEHOSE.
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AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
MRS. FLETCHER
WITH LETTERS
AND OTHER FAMILY MEMORIALS.
EDITED BY
THE SURVIVOR OF HER FAMILY.
" We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love,
And even as these are well and wisely fixed,
In dignity of being we ascend."
The Excursion.
EDINBURGH:
EDMONSTON AND DOUGLAS.
1875.
PREFACE.
IN going through the first issue of my Mother's Auto-
biography (which was intended solely for private circula-
tion), with a view to its publication, I have found it
extremely difficult to make any change in the book with-
out injury to its interest. I therefore let it go before
the public with very little alteration, from the feeling that
although unknown as a writer of books, the use she made
of Life has an interest of its own which makes the publi-
cation of this volume less presumptuous than it would
otherwise have been.
I confess that it is a great pleasure to me to feel that
one whose estimate of her own place in the world was
always so modest, and who never anticipated the circula-
tion of her Autobiography beyond the circle of her friends
and descendants, should still excite so much interest in
" the city of her affections" as to make the call for this
publication one I was glad to yield to, and I have therefore
left the book very much the same as it was, except with
the addition of some letters from those among her friends
not unknown to the world by their own words and works.
M. R.
LANCRIGG, April 1875.
CONTENTS.
PART L
PAGE
Birth at Oxton, January 1770 Her mother's death Her mother's
friendship at school Mrs. Brudenell's history Happy childhood
at , Oxton The Dawson family Mrs. Brudenell's separation
from her husband, 1776 Settles at Oxton The mother- want
supplied by Aunt Dawson Cousins at Wighill Grange Happy
days there The Hill family Her aunt Mary Hill Her love of
hunting cured Mr. Hill's letter to his sou, 1767 Traditions
in the Hill family of Grace Hill and Will Hill at Marston Moor
Sir George Savile in 1779 Traditions of her youthful days
Sampler disclosures Account of Oxton scenery and May-day
festivities First grief going to Manor School Life there
Friendships formed there Leaves school in summer, 1785 Home
life and happiness Happy Highland tour Ann Yearsley, E.
Anthony, and Sarah Watson the good servant Death of grand-
mother, 1787 First lovers First meeting with Mr. Fletcher,
1787 First impressions deepened in 1788 Rev. E. Cartwright's
friendship George Crabbe's visit with his wife Recollections of
John Wesley Rev. J. Clowes Second visit to Perth Visit to
Ripon Lord Grantley Mr. Fletcher's letter in 1787 Corre-
spondence continued with Mr. Fletcher Her father's strong op-
position to the marriage Her engagement Extract from letters
to Mr. Fletcher Marriage, 16th July 1791 Sorrowful feelings
Reflections on that event Letter to Miss Cleaver Mr. Cart-
wright's lines to E. D. in a blank leaf of Lavater's work, . 1
PART II.
Early married life and happiness Letter to Mrs. Laycock Edinburgh
friendships formed Society there Thomas Muir Her father's
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Death of her son Miles, August 1831 Letter to Mrs. Davy
at Malta Visit to Coniston and Brougham Hall Edinburgh
winter First popular Election there Letter from T. Campbell
Return to Tadcaster, 1833 Letter to Mrs. Davy Take
lodgings at Thorney How in July First knowledge of Easedale
Visit to Southey See much of Wordsworth Return to Tad-
casterYork meeting in honour of Wilberforce Death of Aunt
Dawson Her character Leave Tadcaster, May 1834 A month
in London Lord Brougham's kindness A tour in North Devon,
and visit near Ilfracombe Take a house near Hawkshead Re-
turn of Dr. and Mrs. Davy from Malta Happy family meeting
at Keen Ground in May 1835 Take house at Darland Cottage
near Chatham Swiss tour in June and July 1836 General La
Harpe described in letter to Mrs. Boott Excursions in Kent
Wordsworth's visit at Darland, August 1837 Visit to London-
First meeting with Mazzini Two letters from him to Mrs F.
Visit at Oxton on the way to Edinburgh Take villa of Dun-
cliffe Kindness of friends Letters from George Ticknor, Boston,
and Joanna Baillie Aunt Mary Hill's illness and death, 1839
Lancrigg for sale Dora Wordsworth's letter Purchase of Lanc-
rigg Take possession of it, May 1840 Walk with Wordsworth
in Easedale Westmoreland workmen Hartley Coleridge Mrs.
Fletcher's illness, 1842 Dr. Arnold's death Last winter at
Duncliffe Return to Lancrigg as a residence Christmas festivi-
ties Sonnet by Mr. Graves, 15th January 1845 Visit to Black-
heath, April 1845 Mazzini Visit to Edinburgh, spring 1846
Dr. Chalmers Winter at Lancrigg Spring at Leamington,
London, and visits in South To Lancrigg, May 1847 Letter
to Mrs. Chapman Letter from Lord Jeffrey, May 1847 Her
daughter Mary's marriage to Sir John Richardson, August 1847
Visit to Liverpool, February 1848 Mrs. Rathbone London and
Haslar Letter to Mrs. Stark Mary Barton and Mrs. Gaskell
Lines on 1st May 1849, by E. F. Letter to Sir J. Richardson
To her daughter Mary Meeting Chevalier Bunsen Letters to
Mrs. Boott and Mrs. Arnold Letters to Mrs. Burge and Mrs.
Davy London meeting with Mr. Rogers, April 1850 Death and
funeral of Wordsworth Letters to Lady Richardson Lines on
leaving Grasmere Churchyard, April 27, 1850, by E. F. Letter
from Joanna Baillie to Mrs. Fletcher Letter to Harriet Marti-
neau on Somerset the slave Letter to her daughter Mary, 1850
CONTENTS. xi
PAGE
Lord Cockburn to Mrs. F. Last Edinburgh visit Her grandson
Henry's marriage Kossuth Mrs. Gaskell Thomas Wright
London Mazzini Winter at Haslar To Mrs. Arnold, Fox How
To Mrs. Davy on her birthday, 1852 Letter to same about
excursions from Haslar Return to Lancrigg in April Visitors
there, Sir Edward and Lady Parry Lord Cockburn's letter to
Mrs. F. with his Life of Jeffrey, 1852 Lines on Wordsworth and
his sister Sonnet to Mrs. Fletcher by R. P. Graves on 84th
Birthday Letters to Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Arnold Letters
from Mazzini Death of Lord Cockburn Letter to Mrs. Hughes
Visit of Mrs. Empson Meets Lord John Russell, 1854
Springfield Lodge Winter Letters on the return of troops
Letter on Edward Richardson's death Last month of house-
keeping Death of Josephine Richardson Illness and death of
E. Davy, 1857 Last letter to Mrs. Stark, October 1857
Increasing depression Death, 5th February 1858 Letter from
Rev. R. P. Graves to Lady Richardson, 180
CONCLUDING CHAPTER, 327
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER, BY HER MOTHER, . . .341
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER, ADVOCATE, BY HIS
WIDOW, 361
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MRS. FLETCHER.
PAET I.
I WAS born on the 15th of January 1770, at the village
of Oxton, near Tadcaster, in Yorkshire. My father was
descended from a respectable race of yeomen, his grand-
father having purchased a small estate in the township of
Oxton, in the time of Charles II., as appears by the title-
deeds. His father, in addition to his paternal property,
rented a large farm at Wighill Grange, the property of
the Stapletons of Wighill Park. My mother was the
eldest daughter of William Hill, Esquire, of Oxton, who
inherited a considerable estate, which had lineally de-
scended to him from the time of Queen Elizabeth, his
ancestor being a younger brother of the Hills of Marston.
My father was a man of quick parts and ingenuous
dispositions, but having a disinclination to the learned
languages as a boy, and a strong preference for figures, he
studied geometry and mensuration under the Rev. Mr.
Atkinson, of Thorp Arch, and was, at fifteen, apprenticed
to Mr. Lund, a land-surveyor and land-valuer, at Dring
Houses, near York. He was the eldest of four children,
and his father dying when he was about twenty, he
succeeded to the small estate at Oxton, which, with in-
dustrious attention to his business, enabled him to marry
Miss Hill in 1768, when he established himself at Oxton.
My father and mother had been acquainted from their
A
2 A UTOBIO GRA PHY.
childhood ; for though her condition was somewhat
superior to his, yet his sister and she being at the York
Manor Boarding School together, and being neighbours in
the country, they were early thrown together, and could
scarcely remember the time when they did not love each
other better than they loved any one else. My mother's
early attachment was put to the test, for at the Manor
School she became intimate with a young lady of ancient
family and aristocratic connexions, and, moreover, an
heiress, with whom my mother afterwards visited the then
fashionable places of resort, such as Bath and Clifton, as
well as London and Windsor, when Miss Hebburn occa-
sionally visited these places under the care of her maternal
aunt and guardian, Mrs. Johnstone. My mother's personal
attractions and pleasing manners brought many admirers
round her, but her first love made her indifferent to their
attentions, and in October 1768, when she was twenty-
four years of age, she rewarded my father's constancy and
worth by becoming his wife. Their happiness was not of
long duration. At the end of the first year she had a still-
born male child, and at the beginning of the year 1770
she died of milk-fever, after 1 child-birth of me.
Thus early deprived of the blessing of a mother's care
and tenderness, I became the object of my father's concen-
trated affections, and not of his only, but of those of his
mother, brother, and sister, who, on the death of his wife,
all became inmates of his family. Perhaps there never
was a more cherished infancy and childhood than mine ;
and if this did not make me selfish in the worst sense of
the term, I escaped that misfortune from having my affec-
tions and sympathy constantly exercised by feelings of love
and gratitude towards those around me. My grandmother,
" eldest of forms," was a woman of violent temper and
strong affections. She exacted obedience and habitual
HAPPY CHILDHOOD. 3
attention from all her family, and I was accustomed to see
her treated with the greatest respect by her sons and
daughter. She was kind and beneficent to her poor
neighbours. She used to send me with her tea-pot to the
sick cottagers, for tea was then a luxury confined to the
upper and middle classes it formed no part of the diet of
the poor. The village people consisted of eight labourers'
families, three of whom had married from my grand-
mother's service. It was a little patriarchal community.
They treated her with the same respect as if she were still
their mistress. She was always doing them some little
offices of kindness, in which she employed me likewise. I
had one favourite little village playmate, Polly Bovill. I
never was allowed to tyrannize over my humble companion,
and I think she died before I felt aware that there was any
distinction of rank between us. I visited her many times
a day when she was on her death-bed, and I remember
being struck by her saying " I shouldn't like to be buried
in Wighill Churchyard, it is so lonely."
When I was about six years old, an event occurred which
probably had a considerable influence on my future char-
acter and fate. My mother's early friend, Miss Hebburn,
had married (I think two or three years before she did)
the Eev. Edward Brudenell, a descendant of Lord Car-
digan, and nearly related to the Duke of Montague. Mr.
Brudenell had served as aide-de-camp to his father in the
German war, and was induced to quit his profession of a
soldier and to enter the service of the Church for the sake
of a good living, the gift of which was in his family. This
unworthy motive for engaging in the profession of a clergy-
man was followed by such consequences as might have
been expected. The habits of dissipation he had acquired
in the army were not forsaken, and his marriage to an
heiress was a further step to the gratification of his
4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
expensive pleasures. He was a man of insinuating and
accomplished manners, but totally without moral or
religious principle, and the selfish hardness of his heart
showed itself in utter disregard of the happiness of an
affectionate wife and in the grossest indulgence in illicit
amours and profligate habits of expense. His wife brought
him two sons; they both however died in infancy, and
after suffering every species of unkindness and indignity,
Mrs. Brudenell came to the resolution of parting from her
ungenerous and cruel husband. This resolution was not
hastily formed, and it was resolutely executed. She was
on a visit at my father's house at Oxton, and while there
wrote to inform Mr. Brudenell of her determination to
insist upon her separate maintenance or pin-money, as
fixed in her marriage settlement, and to part from him
whom she could no longer respect or love. Mr. Brudenell
suddenly appeared at Oxton, and after some conversation,
in which he opposed the resolution she had formed of a
final separation, saying that he chose " to keep up appear-
ances," they retired separately for the night. My grand-
mother, who was in Mrs. Brudenell's confidence, promptly
arranged that in the middle of the night two horses should
be in readiness to take this injured woman to a place
of concealment, accompanied by my aunt Miss Dawson.
Accordingly at midnight the fugitives escaped. My uncle
and aunt accompanied Mrs. Brudenell along a private road
about half a mile from my father's house, at the end of
which Mr. John Hartley (a trusted neighbour) was waiting
with two horses. Each of the gentlemen took one of the
ladies behind him on a pillion, and took the road to
Moor Monkton, a very sequestered village about nine miles
distant, where a relation of my grandmother's lived. In
that family they were hospitably received, and the gentle-
men returned to their respective places of abode, without
HISTORY OF MRS. BRUDENELL. 5
any one suspecting that they had been concerned in the
adventure. Mrs. Brudenell had left a letter with my
grandmother for her husband, repeating her determination
to live with him no longer ; and threatening that, if he
attempted to molest her or refused the separate main-
tenance provided by her marriage settlement, she would
throw herself on the protection of the Duke of Montague,
and disclose the cruelty with which she had been treated.
The reverend gentleman knew the spirit and firmness of
his wife's character too well to risk such a disclosure.
She had borne much, for she had loved much ; but when
she lost her children, she felt that there would be meanness
and degradation in living longer with a man who had
violated every principle of honour in his cruel infidelity to
her, and who no longer regarded her but as an object of
convenience.
On quitting her place of concealment, Mrs. Brudenell
visited some of her mother's connexions in London, while
Mr. Brudenell made some arrangements with respect to
her estate of Hebburn in Northumberland, and he finally
agreed to allow her 100 a year. From the deranged
state of his own affairs, he found it expedient to accept
the appointment (obtained for him by his half-brother,
General Philips) of Chaplain to General Burgoyne's army,
along with a detachment of which he sailed for America
in the year 1776.
My father felt a strong interest in the friend of his late
wife. Her generous and affectionate disposition made her
cling to his young child as her mother's representative,
and my father offered her a small cottage on his property
at Oxton, if she could find repose and comfort in so
humble a dwelling. She gladly accepted this asylum, and
having much taste for the elegancies of life, she soon
converted her little thatched house into a cottage ornde,
6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
and established herself there with two maid-servants,
when I was between five and six years old. She devoted
some hours of every day to teaching me to read and work,
but this was the least part of my education from her.
She cultivated my taste for poetry, exercised my imagina-
tion and heart by the history of her own eventful life, and
by other narratives calculated to excite and interest a
child. In truth, she supplied too much excitement to
one who was perhaps predisposed to strong emotions and
keen sensibility. She unwittingly supplied excitements
to vanity, by making too great a display of my slender
acquirements. I was brought forward on every occasion
to recite passages from Pope's Homer or the Plays of
Shakespeare, and was accustomed to hear and to expect
high commendations of my wonderful powers and extra-
ordinary accomplishments ! If these dangerous stimulants
had not been counteracted by the simple habits of a
village life, and by the cultivation of the affections, I must
have become an intolerable mass of conceit and pretension.
But here I must indulge in retracing more at length
the affectionate family group round our cheerful fireside in
the little parlour at Oxton. My grandmother, a beautiful
old woman, of quick and sensitive temper, uniting much
generosity of feeling with homely and frugal habits ; my
father, her eldest son, of a remarkably cheerful and hos-
pitable disposition. He became a widower at thirty years
of age. He had been an adoring husband to his first love,
and for many years he had so cherished his grief on losing
her that her name was never mentioned in his presence,
nor had he ever been able to enter the chamber where she
died. This gave to her character, and to his affection, a
sort of mysterious sacredness in my young imagination,
and excited in my mind a deep and tender interest in
everything that related to my mother. The loss of this
FAMIL Y SKE TCHES. 7
dear mother's tenderness was, however, supplied to me in
no common degree by my excellent aunt Dawson, one of
the most single-hearted and unselfish of human beings.
She was my father's only sister, and she took a special
charge of me from the time of my mother's death, which
happened ten days after I was born. Night and day this
kind aunt watched over me. She had a meek and sub-
missive temper, with a considerable portion of early
romance. She had good looks and gentle manners, and
she was sought by many lovers ; but, though in favour of
one of these her young heart was deeply interested, she
resolutely determined not to marry lest in that case my
father might give me a stepmother, who might not treat
me kindly. My poor grandmother was tormented with
that apprehension ; and listening at one time too credu-
lously to gossips' tales, she took it into her head that my
father's visits to a lady in the neighbouring market town
would end in marriage. Not being able to extract a
serious denial of this report from my father, I well re-
member the old lady's indignation rising to a high pitch
at the notion of this impending evil ; and one day, taking
me by the hand, she said : " Child, you and I will beg our
bread through the wide world together rather than you
shall submit to the cruelty of a stepmother." With this
we set out together to leave my father's house, and were
trudging away to Wighill Grange, where her second son
lived on his farm, about three miles from Oxton. We
were in high heroics, for I remember though then not
more than seven years old thinking it would be a fine
thing to beg one's bread rather than submit to cruelty and
injustice. But we were soon overtaken in our Quixotic
pilgrimage by Mrs. Brudenell and my aunt, who prevailed
on the old lady and her companion to return to their
comfortable home, where an explanation soon took place
8 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
between her and my father. These " cataracts and breaks,"
however, did not often interrupt the serenity of our lives.
Such exhibitions of temper might have lessened my love
and veneration for my father, against whom they were
most improperly directed, but such was his invariable
kindness that they had no such effect. My father's
youngest brother, William Dawson, also formed part of
the family, and was as indulgent to me as the rest. He
was passionately fond of music, and played beautifully on
the German flute. My aunt had a pleasing voice and a
good ear, and she sang sweetly. I had no young com-
panions in the family, but I was " mirth and matter " to
them all. I spent the early part of every day with Mrs.
Brudenell, and she spent the evening with us ; and music
and story-telling, recitations from Pope's Homer, or Shake-
speare's Plays, with sometimes a pool at commerce, or a
game at blind-man's-buff, were our evening recreations.
Mr. John Dawson, my uncle, at Wighill, had two
children, a son three years older and a daughter half a
year younger than me. That he might have the advan-
tage of attending a school at Tadcaster, my father took
his young nephew for a time to live with us. This boy
was a sad plague to me. He did not easily lose his own
temper, but he delighted to vex and put me in a passion,
and I attribute it somewhat to my early association with
him that it has cost me so much all my life to combat my
besetting sin the being too easily provoked to anger.
His sister, Elizabeth Dawson, had the sweetest temper
possible. She and I never had a quarrel in our lives.
Her visits at Oxton were long and frequent. We were
delighted to be together. Though six months younger
than me, she could read well, when I could only say my
alphabet : the emulation she excited at six years old made
me give my mind to reading, and having once attained
HER MOTHER'S FAMILY. 9
that difficult art, I devoured every book that fell in my
way. There were then no books for children but fairy
tales and vEsop's and Gay's Fables. My father's library
was upon a small scale the Spectator, Milton's Works,
Shakespeare's Plays, Pope's and Dryden's Poems, Hervey's
Meditations, Mrs. Kowe's Letters, Shenstone's Poems,
Sherlock's Sermons, with some abridgements of history
and geography, filled his little book-shelves. To these
Mrs. Brudenell's store added a few other works, such as
Eobertson's History of Scotland, Sully's Memoirs, Pope's
Homer, etc. My cousin Elizabeth and I cherished the
fondest friendship for each other. We contrived little
stories and acted them together, often weeping and laugh-
ing heartily over our own tragi-comedies. I returned her
visits at Wighill Grange, the only visits in which I had
then any pleasure, because there was no restraint. The
sheepshearings there were days of great festivity. We
milked the ewes, and had our dairy in a hollow tree, and
gathered garlands to celebrate the first of May, and cowslips
for making wine. My visits to my maternal grandfather's
house were not exactly of that description. Mr. Hill was a
man of very superior understanding, and an elegant classical
scholar, a perfect gentleman in manners, with a mildness
and quietness approaching to Quakerism. He had an
utter contempt for the vanities and frivolities of life. He
lost his wife when his four daughters and his only son
were very young, and he then took as inmate, a niece of
his own, to be their guardian and companion. My mother,
his eldest daughter, was the only one he ever sent to a
boarding school. He cultivated in them all a love of read-
ing, a taste for simple pleasures, and a strong sense of
usefulness and public good. He gave his son a liberal
education, having sent him to Westminster School, and
entered him a student of Gray's Inn, preparatory to his
10 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
being called to the Bar. This young man, whether from
his mother's injudicious kindness in early childhood, or from
naturally headstrong passions, proved a great grief to his
family. With talents and acquirements of a high order
for his profession, he became such a lover of pleasure, and
such a slave to sensual habits, that without violating the
estimation of men of the world, he sacrificed professional
eminence and domestic respectability by his passion for
hunting and his indulgence in licentious dissipation. Mr.
Hill's three daughters were exemplary in their dutiful
attention to their father, and in their unwearied devotion
to the moral and religious education of the poor. They
established the second Sunday-school that was taught ill
England, as early as the year 1784, having read in " The
Gentleman's Magazine " an account of the first experiment
of the kind made by Mr. Raikes, a public-spirited printer
at Gloucester. My visits to these excellent relations when
I was a child were rather those of duty than inclination.
They were strict in their notions of duty and self-denial.
They had been educated themselves in a stoical school, and
neither claimed for themselves nor exercised towards others
much indulgence. Their notions were of too severe and
strict a cast to please a child accustomed to sympathy and
fond caresses, as I was at my father's house. The day I
was to spend with them was looked forward to as a day of
trial, and got over as a day of penance. Never shall I
forget how, at the end of a passage leading from their back-
yard, I used to watch for John Copeland, an old man who
passed that way every evening to milk his cow at Oxton,
and beseech him to tell my grandmother to send for me
home, be the night ever so wet or stormy. These messages
were never neglected. John Bovill, an old Oxton cottager,
a favourite tenant of my father's, was duly despatched on
his grey mare, and, muffled in a red cloak, I rode before
HER A UNT MAR Y HILL. 1 1
him, often through rain or snow, to the bright fire-side,
where a kind and cheerful Avelcome always awaited me.
My grandfather and aunts Hill were not unkind to me,
they were only reserved, and the ladies admonitory. They
gave me plenty of advice, but no sympathy ; they were
intelligent, just and good, but they saw in me the faults of
a spoiled child, and thought it their duty to point them
out. I do not remember my grandfather's having ever in
his life taken me on his knee or kissed me. He was to me
a very awful person, one before whom I was always on my
good behaviour. At that time I liked my uncle Hill (by
far the least deserving of the family) much the best of
them all, because he used to play with me, and once he
took me before him on horseback a hunting, which I then
considered the height of human happiness. But I was
cared of my passion for that sport by hearing the shriek of
the poor hare when the hounds pounced upon her. I
screamed louder than the hare ; the sportsmen laughed at
me, and when poor puss was dead they swung her across
my shoulders, and I toiled home, half a mile, crying bitterly,
half-proud, half-ashamed of my trophy. I could not forget
the pitiful shriek of the poor hare, and never more wished
to go a hunting.
As I advanced in life I learned to make a juster estimate
of the worth of my mother's family, and looked up to my
grandfather with real respect, and to my aunts with much
regard, especially the youngest, Miss Mary Hill, who, at the
time I am writing these reminiscences, is in her 85th year.
She has as strong and original a mind as I have ever known,
of high principle, and most extensive benevolence, with
more habitual self-denial than I have met with in any other
person. She bestows three-fourths of her income to feed,
clothe, and instruct the poor. She is not indiscriminate in
her charities, but devotes herself in Christian love to her
1 2 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
Master's business. If she had been placed in circum-
stances to exercise the smaller sympathies as well as the
virtues of charity and self-denial, hers would have been a
more attractive character ; but I have much personal cause
of gratitude to, as well as of veneration for her, and am
often reminded of the false estimate I see others make of
the value of things, by comparing it with her practical
wisdom. At eighty-five, she declares old age to be the
happiest period of human life, because the most free from
cares and worldly anxieties, and the nearest to its heavenly
destination.
[Letter from Mr. Hill to his Son in January 1767.
DEAR TOM, I am glad thou hast so far conquered the
pride and self-conceit that so commonly prevails over mankind
as to acknowledge thou hast thy share of it : this is a great
step, but thou must not stop here. A good general must not
only know how to gain a battle, but likewise how to turn it to
advantage, for pride will be always up in rebellion, and the
weeds and brambles are as constantly to be plucked out of the
mind as they are out of a well-cultivated farm. Self-conceit
has a like ill effect on the body by its close connexion with the
mind, as from this source all that train of maladies called hyp
and vapours are derived, and the self-conceited man quarrels
with the world because it does not pay that regard to his merits
he thinks he is entitled to, whereas the humble man is happy
in meeting with more respect than he thinks he deserves. As
these two different tempers have such different effects with
regard to mankind, so doubt not but they will have the like
with respect to the Author and wise Governor of the universe,
whose protection thou must always seek, and whose guidance
thou must always rely on if thou hopest for happiness and
comfort. I am thy affectionate Father, WILLIAM HILL.] X
1 [There was a tradition in the Hill family which should not be omitted,
although not recorded by our mother herself, but kept in remembrance by
me in the form of a sword presented to me in one of my early winters at
TRADITIONS OF HER YOUTH. 13
My father was at this time, 1778, much employed as a
commissioner under various Acts of Parliament for enclos-
ing and dividing common land attached to townships,
while my uncle took the surveying department. This took
them much from home ; and I well remember the joy
which my father's return, especially, diffused through all
his little household. I used to be on the watch for him at
our garden gate, listening for the tramp of his horse, hours
before his arrival. I had been diligently employed weed-
ing or watering his favourite flowers, or seeing his pointers
fed, and doing everything I thought would give me a claim
to his approbation. He was fond of his garden, and made
me a partaker in all his amusements there. On returning
home, he had always something new and amusing to relate,
and generally some little present to bring to each of us :
perhaps some fairy tales for me, a matronly ribbon for his
mother's neat mob-cap, or a new song for his sister. At
this time the American revolutionary war was at its height.
My father felt strongly on the Whig side of that question,
and he and my grandfather Hill agreed in reprobation of
taxing the colonies without their own consent. I under-
stood, of course, nothing about the matter, but I listened
with intense interest to these discussions, and picked up
some notions of national justice and injustice.
Tadcaster, by my great-aunt Mary Hill. This basket-hilted sword was said
to have belonged to an officer of the Hill family, behind whom the Lady
Fairfax rode when she was taken prisoner on her way to Cawood Castle.
Hartley Coleridge, in his Life of Sir T. Fairfax, mentions this, in the
words of her husband, which he quotes, and it is there said that the name
of this officer was "Will. Hill." What, however, made this so interesting
to me at the time was this, that a certain Grace Hill, belonging to this
family of Hills, went to the field of battle after the field was won, to look
for the body of her brother, who could not be heard of, found him wounded
but alive, brought him home and he recovered, and that is unfortunately
all that I could ever learn of this, to me notable, heroine of my early days.
The sword is still to be seen.]
1 4 A UTOBIOGRAPHY,
I think it was in the year 1779 that my father took us
all to a review of the West York Militia, on Chapeltown
Moor, near Leeds. The regiment was at that time com-
manded by Sir George Savile, whose speeches I had often
heard my father read with peculiar emphasis and satisfac-
tion, considering him as the most patriotic and honest man
in the House of Commons. He happened to be personally
acquainted with Sir George, and meeting him accidentally
that day he invited us all into his tent, and regaled us with
wine, fruit, etc. He took me on his knee, and his good
nature found amusement at my childish delight in all the
" pomp and circumstance " of the review. For many a day
after I enacted the glories of that day in the little garden
at Oxton, shouldering my musket, rushing on to the
charge, marching in quick and slow time. But the
greatest glory of all was having sat on the knee of Sir
George Savile. At that time Sir George's hair was thin
and grizzled, and stood off from his face, and it much
amused my father to find me often frizzling, or, as I said,
" Sir George Saviling " my hair in the weeks after I had
seen him. Sympathy with my father's high esteem for
that good man's public virtue laid perhaps the foundation
of my hero-worship.
[Another little tradition of our mother's child-days must,
as we think, have belonged to this tune, though not given in
her written record. It was lodged in the faithful memory of
good aunt Dawson, who was fond of telling it to us. She
had taken her young charge, on medical advice, for a few
weeks to Harrogate, and during their abode there the little
girl's beauty had attracted much notice from a childless lady
of fortune who was an inmate with them of the same hotel,
and who sometimes begged to have her in the carriage to take
drives along with her. One of these included a visit to the
best furnished toy-shop of the place ; but this, as the lady
TRADITIONS OF HER YOUTH. 15
observed on bringing her back to aunt Dawson, had not proved
so successful in the way of amusing her little friend as she had
hoped. " She was bright and lively," she said, " as usual on
setting forth, but has been out of spirits on our way back, and
I have returned the sooner to you thinking she may feel
unwell." It was not illness, however, only a sad disappoint-
ment to the eager little spirit, as she soon told when the ill-
judging lady had left them. " Oh, aunt, if you had seen the
drums, and the trumpets, and the guns and swords in that shop
and see (unwrapping a costly article from its paper covering),
see, she has given me nothing but this stupid doll."
To us who knew the dear subject of these memorials as
none else could, and who also knew most of those with whom
her early days were passed, it has often been curiously inter-
esting to note how strongly were met in her the hereditary
instincts derived from both sides of her parentage. The quick,
almost fiery temper the affectionate, forgiving heart the
plain household integrity and sense of duty of the one, her
father's side ; and the more intellectual cast, and (with nothing
less of "plain living") more "high thinking" tendencies of
the other, her mother's side, which, as she has told, led her
aunts Hill to a sympathy with all purposes of public good,
and to deeds of their own in accordance. From neither
parental side, as we think, came her hero-worship (in military
sense), which we saw as keenly alive in her eighty-fourth year,
during the Crimean war, as it could have been in her ninth.
This, if indeed it be not a part of every impulsive nature, must
have been early engrafted on hers in her morning readings
and talks with Mrs. Brudenell, herself a soldier's daughter,
who, as we can remember in her talks of after years with us,
delighted to show how fully she inherited, as well she might,
her father's chivalrous Northumbrian pride in his descent
(collaterally) from that hero of Chevy Chase memory, the
Widdrington, who
"When his legs were smitten off
Still fought upon his stumps."
One point of woman's taste which seemed in her instinctive
like the other, Mrs. Brudenell quite failed to impart to her
16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
pupil, the love of needlework. Plain work, indeed, was not
her forte ; the skill and practice in it which enabled aunt
Dawson on one renowned occasion (the only self-boast that, I
think, we ever heard her utter), to begin and finish a fine
shirt in one day, never was attained by the more aristocratic
family friend. Indeed, as aunt Dawson used to tell us,
Mrs. Brudenell always maintained that plain hemming or
stitching gave her a disabling pain in her thumb ; but in the
higher branches of the needle's doings she would gladly have
taught her pet pupil to excel. It was in vain, however, that
precepts were uttered by her on this matter, or that her goodly
examples of cross-stitch or tent-stitch, reaching even to hearth-
rugs and carpets in these kinds, were set before our mother.
One small token only of her having attained even the art of
marking letters with the needle has been preserved amongst us
a sampler ; and we infer that she had been induced so to
employ her fingers by being allowed a little expression of hero
worship at the end of the toil, there being inscribed by her
needle on the canvas (after the usual alphabet in letters great
and small, and some not very happy imitation of flowers
in worsted) a favourite passage from Pope's Homer, ending
with the sounding couplet :
"Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My soul detests him as the gates of Hell." 1
From her ninth year, her age at the date of the " glorious "
day of the review and Sir George Savile's entertainment in
his tent, there is a break in the thread of our mother's written
reminiscences of her happy child- life, till she takes it up again
to' tell of what was in truth her first sorrow, the being sent to
school. The even tenor of those village days left her probably
1 The second couplet inserted in the now moth-eaten sampler which I
lately inspected is quite as prophetic of her future constancy in friend-
ship as the first is as to her moral standard of truth and falsehood. It is
this
" The friends thou hast and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel."
Certainly no one ever did more fully follow out the good advice of
Polonius on this point than she did from youth to age.
TRADITIONS OF HER YOUTH. 17
little to note down concerning the two intervening years, but
her vivid recollections of all this young time, so often the sub-
ject-matter of her talks with us, and good aunt Dawson's also,
whose village annals had a simple, truthful quaintness about
them very pleasant to hear and to remember, and our own
knowledge of the localities, enable us well to imagine, almost to
see, how those years went on, with "working day and holiday,"
in wholesome interchange. Oxton was a hamlet rather than a
village, its cottage homesteads lying apart from one another for
about a quarter of a mile along the right and left sides of the
lane leading from Tadcaster (distant a mile on one side) to
Bolton Percy, about three miles farther on the other side. It
had no village green, but there were grass fields on all sides ;
those on the right (as you entered from Tadcaster) stretching
down from behind the cottages to the banks of the river Wharfe,
those on the left to the York turnpike road, from whence a cart
rather than carriage-way led to the village at its entrance.
There was nothing, in tourist phrase, very " attractive " in the
surroundings/of Oxton, or in the place itself. Our grandfather's
dwelling, the only one above those of the labourers' sort, was,
and is, confessedly ugly in outward aspect, a brick house, some-
what narrow for its height, with a square low-walled and hedged
garden in front, opening by a little gate on the village lane.
An old porched house which once stood on the side nearly op-
posite, constructed of brick interspersed with beams of black
oak and plaster, which might have been a Franklin's hall, was
in our time but a tradition of the past. And yet, though there
might be little that was picturesque at Oxton, hardly anything,
as modern ladies say, to "sketch" (save a fine old walnut tree
standing about midway on the side of the irregular village street
just before John Bovill's cottage), there was much to enjoy.
Each cottage, besides having the needful comforts within, had
the free air without, and nearly all had a little orchard as
well as garden ground behind. The place always had a "heart-
some" look, as we used to come upon it from under the shade
of some fine trees overshadowing the lane at its entrance on the
Tadcaster side; and there was a field just there that looked like
a fragment of park scenery. Some stately oaks grew in its
hedgerows, and a few noble elms within the enclosure at its lower
B
18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
end. But our mother's favourite fields were at the other end
of the village, beyond Mrs. Brudenell's cottage. They opened on
a pretty bit of bosky lane, in the direction of Bolton Percy. All
the fields round would probably have been open to her wander-
ings ; many had footpaths through them, but these as her father's
possession, were her own more especial domain for violet-
picking in March, and birdnest-seeking (to look into reverently)
later on in the spring, and for large cowslip-gathering when
wine-making time was at hand, and for that most cherished of
all her young holiday joys, the flower-collecting for her garland
to be hung over the house door early on the first day of May.
Oxton did not boast of a May-pole. So far as we have heard
her say, garland-making there was for household adornment
only, in which on May-day no cottage home was to be found
lacking. Often has she recounted to us, and sometimes in
the same scene and season, when the primrose tufts and the
" nodding forests " of blue hyacinths were rife in the hedge-
rows of those fields, and the cowslip was scenting the air
everywhere, the true story of these May-day preparations ;
how, on the last day of April, she and her cousin from Wig-
hill Grange, or failing her, some young playfellow of the
village children, were set free from all tasks directly after
breakfast and allowed to follow their own devices till well on
in the afternoon, no home dinner hour to be observed ; their
midcjay meal, a standing meat pie and some sweet articles,
being packed up for them in a covered basket by the unfailing
provider aunt Dawson. Aunt D. did not fail to recommend,
that the basket should not be opened till fair dinner-time, but
this, like much other good advice, our mother used to admit
was not always followed. It was difficult to help peeping in,
just to see what aunt Dawson had put in besides the meat
pie, and then a little tasting followed, more than once perhaps,
before the flower-gatherers sat down to their dinners in good
earnest. But the business of this happy day was not neglected.
All that was wanted for the garland was ready before tea-time
(not much after four o'clock in those days) brought them home
to sort and tie up the posies, and with Mrs. Brudenell's help
make all right for fastening them on to the large osier frame-
work (something of globe fashion) which was to display their
TRADITIONS OF HER YOUTH. 19
beauties next morning. No wonder that we should like to
dwell even to tediousness (we are growing old ourselves) on
the " sunny memories " of our mother's child days, for to the
last hour that she was permitted here to enjoy anything, the
thought of them never failed to light up her face with a
peculiar joyousness. Another cherished reminiscence of those
days was the dance and supper of the haymakers on the last
evening of their season's work. The Oxton festivity of this
kind was held in a field close to Mrs. Brudenell's cottage, and
she supplied the music, by drawing a barrel organ which stood
in her parlour close to the window that looked into that field, at
which she stood turning the handle with unwearied good humour
till the dancers were tired and ready for the good supper cheer
that followed. Much less was said and written then about the
amusements of the people than in our days, but it was a clear
part of our mother's remembrances that the labouring poor had
lighter spirits than we see in them now, not only that they had
more taste for the periodical play that lightens toil, Christmas
mumming (" ploughstott " processions as they were called in
those parts), and the village " feasts" at Whitsuntide or Mid-
summer, but that they were more habitually cheerful in their
domestic ways. She often recalled with heart-pleasure the
sight and sound of John Bovill's young family when gathered
round the father and mother under that walnut tree aforesaid,
on summer evenings all singing together "lustily and with a
good courage."
No wonder that school in exchange for such home and
village life looked a dolorous prospect, though its terror was
not increased to her by any child timidity or bashfulness ; and
it could have been no cheerful prospect for those left behind
either, so much of each day's " mirth and matter," as she has
said, to be taken away from her father, grandmother, uncle
William, and her mother aunt Dawson also. But we, who
knew her unselfish ways and works, can well fancy how, when
the matter was once settled, her thoughts were bent on the
needful preparations for school apparel, and how well stored
was the " goody box " on the last day's packing. Mrs.
Brudenell had her kindly cares and anxieties also ; but these
related chiefly to the effect her pupil was to produce in the
20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
eyes both of the teachers and the taught at the Manor School
by her young attainments. It was she, as our mother used
to tell us, who took her to school and made the awful presen-
tation to the presiding governess.
The Manor House at York was, and is still, a fine building
in the old city, and had its royal traditions, having been used
as a resting-place, and sometimes as a dwelling-place by kings
of England in the olden time, when occasions led them north
of the Humber. It is well and worthily used now as the
" Wilberforce School for the Blind," a fitting memorial chosen
(on Lord Brougham's suggestion) for the honoured man who,
as one of the county Members for Yorkshire, had so long
pleaded the great interests of humanity in his place in Parlia-
ment. If sorrowful feeling had not quenched fancy, our
mother, even at eleven years old, would have liked the place,
at least of her banishment. A photographic picture of its
venerable door-way and a window over it, that of the room
in which she and an amiable schoolmate, a friend for life after-
wards, slept, is of interest to us to look upon now. Her own
record, however, gives but a comfortless picture of the time
passed there, and of school ways at the place in best repute for
the instruction of young ladies in her time in the North of
England.]
At eleven years old I was sent to the same boarding-
school at York, at which my mother and Mrs. Brudenell
had contracted their early friendship. It was a place in
which nothing useful could be learned, but it did me some
service, because I had something to unlearn. It taught me
that all my reading was not to be compared with the graces
that other girls had acquired at the dancing-school, and my
rusticity subjected me to many wholesome mortifications.
The dull restraints of a school life were extremely irksome
to me; everything was artificial, flat, and uninteresting.
One great reason of this, no doubt, was that whereas at
home I was everything, at school I was nothing self-love
was in a perpetual state of subjection and humiliation. The
MANOR SCHOOL LIFE. 21
four years I spent at that school were not without their use,
because if their experiences did not convince me that the
making a graceful curtsey was the chief end of human exist-
ence, and that an awkward gait was worse than a bad action,
they did convince me that, if the acquirements I valued
myself upon were not to be more admired by the world
than they were by my school companions, I had made a
very mistaken estimate indeed of the value of my own
knowledge and literary attainments. I formed, however,
some friendships at school which both at the time and after-
wards permanently contributed much to my happiness. Of
these were Miss Forster and her sisters, Miss Ann Cleaver,
afterwards Mrs. Chapman, and Miss Beckwith, afterwards
Mrs. Craik. But reflecting on my experience of a boarding-
school as then conducted, I cannot but wonder how any one
could escape the peril of such association as might have been
met with there. The Manor School was in the hands of a
very well-disposed, conscientious old gentlewoman, but of
so limited an understanding that, under her rule, mischief
of every kind (short of actual vice) was going on without
her even suspecting it. Lessons were said by rote, without
being understood; servants were bribed to bring in dainties
clandestinely; in short, every kind of dissimulation was
practised to indemnify the subjects of this petty despotism,
for the restraints unnecessarily imposed upon them. During
the four years I was at this school, two chapters of the
Bible were read every morning by two of the young ladies
as a reading lesson. Prayers were regularly drawled out
by the husband of our governess, a choleric old man, who
thumped our fingers so often for bad writing, with his
mahogany ferule, that we listened to his prayers with any
feelings but those of love or devotion. I do not remember
to have received a single religious impression at this school,
though creeds were repeated, and catechisms taught, and
22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
all the formalities of religious service regularly performed.
Four volumes of the Spectator constituted our whole school
library. But besides the negative evils of such school life,
was the misfortune of having as daily associates some girls
of thoroughly depraved character. Two of these, the most
remarkable for dissimulation and all evil characteristics,
who afterwards married, eloped from their husbands.
[" Such," our mother adds, "were the dangers to which the
inmates of a boarding-school were then exposed." In thinking
of her, well may we add such were the healthy instincts that
saved her from danger, and led her in that young school-world
to "refuse the evil and choose the good." Her own intimate
schoolmates, all of whom were well known to us in after days,
pleasant it is now to remember how much we inherited of
their kindly friendship, were no less marked than herself by
purity of thought, word, and deed. It was one trial of those
weary years, a minor one certainly, and only matter for merry
recollection with her friends afterwards, but sorely felt at the
'time, that in the daily school walks she was coupled with a
girl of uncommon stupidity, whose ideas ran on tarts and pud-
dings only. She supposed that the lady at the head of the
school had a special dislike to her, and that this infliction was
a proof of it. A burst of tenderness from the old lady on her
leaving school, however, brought forth an eclaircissement on
this point. Tears were shed on both sides. "Why," said
the pupil, "did you always make me walk with Miss ?"
"My dear, I thought you might do her good, and she could do
you no harm." And so it might be. We do not know what
brightenings might come in after-life to that dull girl.
As to the limitation of the school library, and the authorized
reading, the Manor School girls of course indemnified themselves
in the usual manner of sufferers from undue prohibition. Our
mother's school friends in after-days had happy remembrances,
along with her, of the little reading parties gathered together
round a fire, over some smuggled article of dramatic, and com-
monly of tragic sort in one case indeed made doubly tragic,
when, in the midst of a scene in the pathetic play of Sir Thomas
MANOR SCHOOL LIFE. 23
Overbury, one of the listeners, lifting her arm in high excite-
ment, dashed the little paper tome out of the reader's (our
mother's) hand, and it flew into the fire, from whence hardly a
fragment could be recovered. The " stolen pleasures" of such
reading, in spite of occasional mishaps, were doubtless " sweet,"
and school dulness was sometimes, as she relates, otherwise
diversified.]
My father had many friends at York who were kind to
me. It was at Mr. Forster's house [the father of her school
friends of that name] that I was most at home. The family
were old friends of Mrs. Brudenell. They had moved from
their country seat, Bolton, in Northumberland, to live for
some years at York for the education of their daughters.
By Mrs. Forster I was always treated as one of her own
children ; but I never reflect with pleasure on my school-
day life. I had more of the home sickness than most of
my companions. From our play-ground on the "Manor
shore" I could see Bilbrough Spring, a tall clump of trees
within three miles of my father's house. That clump of
trees interested me more than any game at play, and it was
only when I mounted my pony to trot homewards that I
knew what real happiness was at that period. I left school
finally at the midsummer of 1785. So fond was I of my
newly-acquired freedom and command of time, that so long
as the early mornings were light I rose at four o'clock, and
with some favourite book, generally of poetry, I sauntered
in the lanes or fields till our eight o'clock breakfast-time.
[These were days of chosen remembrance with our mother.
We can all recollect how, in our walks round Oxton together,
she used to linger at one particular stile leading from the
lane into a field footpath, and tell us of her sittings there on
those early summer mornings. Like most ardent young readers
of poetry, she wrote not a little verse in those days, the said
stile being her seat with pencil and note-book for that pleasant
rhyming work which Southey says "no one ever practised
2 i A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
without being the better for it." We can well believe that she
was the better for such expression of her young summer joy ;
from any vanity that might have made her the worse, she was
saved by a high and true sense of poetic beauty, an imagina-
tion already fed by the mind and the music of Shakespeare (her
father's recitation of nearly the whole play of " Romeo and
Juliet" was among her earliest recollections), and an ear
trained by the graceful flow of Pope.]
About this time (in the same year of happy freedom), a
friend of my father placed at my disposal 20 to make some
addition to my slender stock of books. Well do I remember
with what exultation of delight I entered old Tessyman's,
the bookseller's shop at York, to make my purchases.
Warton's Edition of Milton's Lesser Poems, Cowper's First
Edition of his poems, Hayley's Works, and Brydone's
Tour were amongst the number. There lived at that time
in the neighbouring village of Bolton Percy a family of the
name of Ewbank. Mr. Ewbank, a man of good private
fortune, was Curate of the parish, and lived at the Rectory.
His wife was a truly devout and exemplary woman, of cul-
tivated mind and great refinement of manners. Mrs. Bru-
denell and I often visited this family. They formed my
beau-iddal of domestic happiness, and they presented religion
to me in its most engaging form, " carrying it (as Dr. Chal-
mers would have said) into their week day as well as their
Sabbath ministrations."
The very summer I left school an incident occurred
which afforded interest to a romantic imagination. Mine
had been little cultivated by novel-reading, but that
seductive amusement had not been wholly resisted, and
I had a great admiration for the military heroic. The
addresses paid me by an officer whom I met at Thorp Arch*
* A watering-place on the banks of the Wharfe about five miles from
Oxton.
HOME LIFE AND INTERESTS. 25
while on a visit there, was the first episode of the kind in
my simple annals. My notions of filial duty were of the
strictest kind. I was wretched till I imparted my secret
to my father, and more wretched still when he desired me
at once to put a negative on the hopes of my adoring
lover. Not that I was in love myself, but I never doubted
that the gallant captain would, as he said, forthwith die of
grief and distraction if I did not give a favourable answer
to his suit. I am amused now by the simple credulity of
a village girl of fifteen fifty years ago. There is not now
a girl of that age, of capacity above an idiot's, who would
not quiz the notion of a man's dying of love. A succession
of admirers furnished me for the next two or three years
with serious occupation, for I had nothing of the coquette
in my disposition, though a good deal of the heroine of
romance. I never could make light of the sorrows of the
heart. My suitors were dismissed without the self-love of
any being hurt by scorn or impertinence. One youth I
could have loved ; the eldest brother of my school-friend,
Miss Ann Cleaver. I met him in the year 1787, when I was
on a visit at his father's house. His appearance was pre-
possessing, his mind manly and ingenuous, and his manners
pleasing. He had finished his Cambridge education, and
was entered a student of law at the Inner Temple. I
allowed him to ask my father's permission to pay his
addresses to me. The displeasure he felt at my father's
unfavourable reception of his proposals proved that he had
more pride than tenderness of heart, and this enabled me
to conquer my attachment and to acquiesce without a
murmur in my father's better judgment.
[In the same page that tells of her young " passages of love,"
our mother tells also of her deep sympathy with its fictitious
woes in her first reading of " The Sorrows of Werther."]
This touching book fell into my hands (while staying
26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
with the Forster family at York) on the morning of the
day on which I was going to my first ball. I had antici-
pated as much delight as girls commonly do from this event,
but my swollen eyes, red with weeping, and my grief for
Werther and Charlotte, obliged me to give up the ball.
I never cared enough for dress to make much impression
in a ball-room, neither did I at all excel in dancing. My
pleasure was in the conversation of an agreeable partner.
I never was gratified by complimentary admiration of my
personal attractions ; vanity lay in another corner of my
heart. I ambitiously desired to be distinguished for men-
tal superiority, and had no objection to a little sentimental
flirtation, though I do not remember ever wishing to inspire
a passion for the sake of conquest.
At the balls given during the Lent Assizes at York, my
uncle Hill used to take a great charge of my dancing with
proper partners, and generally introduced to me some of
his younger brethren at the Bar. whom I found better
educated and more conversable than the young men I was
in the habit of meeting at the York evening parties. It
was at one of these parties, however, at Mr. Forster's, that
I had the long-wished-for gratification of seeing the poet
Mason. He was then Precentor of the Cathedral. Many
a time had I walked before his door in the Minster Yard,
to get a peep of the author of Elfrida and Caractacus.
But to be in the same room with him, to watch his
countenance, and hear him speak, the anticipation was
delightful! I figured him an interesting-looking man
worn with deep affliction, for I had read his beautiful
" Monody " on his wife, who died at Bristol of consump-
tion. But when he entered Mrs. Forster's drawing-room,
what was my surprise to see a little fat old man of hard-
favoured countenance squat himself down at a card table,
and give his whole attention to a game at whist !
HAPPY HIGHLAND TOUR. 27
[It was in the year previous to this, before her taste of the
gaieties and incidents of the "York Lent Assizes," that our
mother made her first acquaintance with the laud north of the
Tweed, and with the English highlands of our lake district,
those places of her habitation in most of her after-years of
life.]
In the summer of 1786 my kind father indulged me
with an excursion to the Highlands of Scotland. I had
my choice either to go for six weeks to London or to
Scotland ; I chose the latter. I was much attached
to Miss Stewart, a young lady who had married the year
before (from the Manor School) Mr. Meliss, a gentleman of
Perth, her native place. This and some romantic associa-
tions with Scottish scenery decided my choice. My uncle
William Dawson, my cousin John, and I, set out on this
excursion on the 23d of July, and after a visit of three
weeks to my friend Mrs. Meliss at Eosemount, a pretty villa
near Perth, where I witnessed much domestic happiness
and received much kindly hospitality, we proceeded through
Perthshire and Argyllshire by the ordinary tourist route,
and returning by the Westmoreland and Cumberland lakes,
we completed our expedition by the 5th of October, on
which day we returned to Oxton.
My taste for and enjoyment in picturesque scenery
were miich increased by this journey. From Batnborough
Castle, on the coast of Northumberland, I first saw the sea.
It was on a tempestuous day, and the foaming surge and
roaring billows of the German Ocean astonished and
affected me. I have never looked on the sea since with-
out a recurrence of the same emotion of dread, which
philosophers consider the source of the sublime. It would
be impossible for me ever to feel familiar with the sea ; I
have no feeling of happiness connected with it. I was
greatly struck with the noble situation of Edinburgh, and
28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
interested in the historical associations of the place, but
we did not then know any one there. The frankness and
urbanity of Scottish manners were very agreeable to me.
I was not discriminating enough to be a good judge of
character, or refined enough to be fastidious. I had no
very high standard of manners, but I returned gratefully
impressed with much personal kindness. I had an unaf-
fected wish to please. This feeling was, I think, com-
pounded of benevolence and a great desire of approbation.
I never could flatter or say what I did not think ; but I
was disposed to think well of others. I had no turn for
ridicule, no very quick perception perhaps of the ludicrous,
no pride, I think, or assumption above others ; but I had
plenty of vanity, and great much too great desire for the
estimation of others. If it had been the estimation of
the good and the wise only, it would have been a desire
that all rational beings ought to have ; but I was more
voracious, and less discriminating in my love of approba-
tion.
This delightful Highland tour filled my mind with many
new thoughts, both respecting scenery, national character
and manners, and various subjects, which a wider field of
observation afforded. I was then sixteen ; and for my
father's amusement I kept a journal of each day's adven-
tures. This was afterwards transcribed in a book, which
held a favoured place in my father's book-case, and yet
now-a-days a very ordinary girl of sixteen would be
ashamed to write so bald, so affected, and so absurd a
narrative of a six-weeks' tour in Scotland ; I could sit
down and laugh at it from beginning to end, there is so
much attempt at fine writing in it, a thing never thought
of now, I presume, by a girl of sixteen. It abounds in
the bad taste of the time ; it is a sort of " sentimental
journey." My fondly indulgent father, however, and all
RESISTANCE TO OPPRESSION. 29
my little family circle, were delighted with it, and thus my
love of approbation " grew by what it fed on."
[This judgment, often pronounced by our mother's later-
formed self-knowledge on her early self, was doubtless true ;
but quite as true was it that an earnest benevolence, that best
natural antidote to the poison of selfish vanity, was as much a
part of her nature as the love of approbation. She knew that
her love of doing good was far stronger than her desire to be
thanked or praised for it. This love grew with her growth,
from an impulsive sentiment into a working habit, a principle
of her life. The next two notices in her own words, relating
to incidents of this or the following year, are very charac-
teristic.]
It was about this time that I read somewhere of a dis-
pute between Mrs. Hannah More and Ann Yearsley, the
Bristol milkwoman. The poor woman's " narrative "
struck me as having a strong claim on the reader's
sympathy. It appeared that after Mrs. Hannah More had
introduced her to the public, by a very high and eloquent
eulogium on her genius and her virtue (in a letter addressed
to the celebrated Mrs. Montague), she quarrelled with
Mrs. Yearsley for her requesting to have the uncontrolled
disposal of the interest only of the money which, chiefly
through Mrs. Hannah More's influence, had been raised by
subscription for her poems. Mrs. Yearsley had readily
agreed that the principal sum, about 350, should be
vested in the funds for the benefit of her family, under the
trusteeship of Mrs. Hannah More and Mrs. Montague.
Mrs. Yearsley's " narrative " made a great impression on
me. I thought it showed a case of direct attempt by the
strong to oppress the weak. My father and all our little
household sympathized in this feeling, and authorized by
my father, I wrote to Mrs. Yearsley offering to collect
subscriptions for her new volume of poems advertised for
30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
publication. Mrs. Yearsley, who had been highly irritated
by what she conceived to be Mrs. Hannah More's in-
justice, received the offered assistance of a stranger with
exaggerated, but I believe sincere expressions of joy and
gratitude. I enlisted with all the zeal of partisanship,
as well as the feelings of justice and benevolence, in her
behalf, and seldom had I felt more delighted than when
my father put a 50 bank note into my hands to give
immediate help to the Bristol milkwoman in bringing out
her poems. This sum was nearly replaced by the five
hundred subscribers I obtained for her. She afterwards
addressed some complimentary verses to me in that volume,
and, not being then much given to the practice of self-
examination, I daresay I was not aware how much of
vanity and self-love mixed with better feelings in my
patronage of Mrs. Yearsley. The correspondence with this
remarkable woman afforded me much interest for several
years, and I carefully preserved her letters. When, in the
spring of 1834, I visited Bristol and Clifton for the first
time, I tried in vain to trace any vestige of her or her
family.
It was in his generous indulgence, and sympathy in
such impulses as these, that I felt my father's kindness
so deeply. It was about the same time that he encouraged
me in my strenuous exertions to save a poor friendless
girl from vice and misery. When on a visit to my friend
Miss Beckwith at Eipon, as we were on our way together
to attend as visitors at a Sunday School, we observed,
through a grated window of the lock-up house, the face of
a modest-looking girl not above seventeen years of age.
She looked very sorrowful. In answer to our inquiries,
she said that, on her way from Sunderland to join her
mother in London, she fell into company with two other
poor travellers, a man and his wife, and accompanied them
ELIZABETH ANTHONY AND SARAH WA TSON. 31
to a beggar's lodging-house in Ripon, where they committed
a theft, and she, being with them, was committed to take
her trial along with them at the Quarter Sessions. There
was so much apparent artlessness in her story that my
friend and I interested ourselves deeply in her fate. Her
name was Elizabeth Anthony. She was acquitted of
participation in the theft, and her companions were sent
for six weeks to the House of Correction. A respectable
service was obtained for her by Mr. Beckwith in a farmer's
family near Ripon, and my friend and I had the satisfaction
to think that we had saved the poor girl from ruin. What
was our disappointment to find, six weeks afterwards,
that she had absconded from the farmer's service, and had
taken the road to York with her former companions when
liberated from prison. My friend Ann Cleaver was stay-
ing with me when I received this grievous intelligence.
At once we mounted on horseback, and full of Quixotic
enthusiasm we rode full canter to York, where we pre-
vailed on a good man to search all the mendicant lodging-
houses for our fugitive. He found her, and brought her
to our inn. Again she imposed on us by saying that her
quondam friends had frightened her into leaving her good
master's service by telling her that they would set fire to
his barn if she refused to accompany them. We credu-
lously believed her, and again found, in the house of
Mr. Potter of Tadcaster, a respectable service, and a kind
roof to shelter her. But " a begging she would go," and
although most kindly treated in Mr. Potter's family she
again absconded, without however committing any theft or
breach of trust in either of the families who had given her
shelter.
[One of our mother's favourite heroines in humble life belong-
ing to this period was a person of the name of Sarah Watson,
who lived in the village of Grimston, near Tadcaster, where I
32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
often saw her as an old woman. I well remember the respect-
ful and affectionate manner my mother had towards her, when
she took us to her cottage on a fine summer evening during
one of our visits to Tadcaster, when we were children. On
our walk home across the fields, she told us that Sarah had, in
her youth, when they first knew each other, been a single
servant in a clergyman's family of small means ; that the
master of the house was killed by an accident, and left his wife
in great poverty and some debt. Sarah, who had married a
labourer, took a cottage and fitted up her best room with all
the comforts she could collect from her mistress's old home, and
which she would much have missed, moved her into it, and
waited upon her for years, as she had been accustomed to do,
but without any remuneration ; showing her more respect than
ever, and bearing all the irritability of illness and age with the
utmost gentleness and forbearance. Sarah had one child, which
died young ; and in the cottage on that fine summer evening,
I remember there was a little chair with a large Bible on it.
I have still a distinct impression of that cottage, its beautiful
cleanliness and comfort, the roses about the open lattice, the
little chair and the Bible on it, the grave refined look of the
venerable Sarah, and then the history of her beautiful self-
devotion, related to us as we walked home, in the glowing words
we loved best to hear. All this made an impression on us that
no written annals could have done. It was a remembrance of
her own youth that she conveyed to us, as the history of Ruth
might have been related in the walks at eventide of a Hebrew
mother ; and such histories of goodness and mercy sink deep
into the hearts of children. We afterwards heard in our visits
to Sarah (which continued to be one of the pleasures of our
Tadcaster life so long as she lived) that our mother had thrown
her loving energies into this village history at the time it
occurred, and had assisted Sarah to collect the articles of
furniture which were essential to the comfort of her old
mistress. It was evident to those who saw them together
that there was a link of old remembrance and regard between
them which broke down all the barriers of condition and made
them feel as friends living in the presence of a loving Father.
Where our mother recognised the presence of God's spirit in
FIRST MEETING WITH MR. FLETCHER. 33
others, the humility of her own nature appeared in a re-
markable degree and gave a deferential grace to her manner
quite apart from the ordinary courtesy of society. One of the
sayings of her old friend, Mr. Clowes, early entered her soul,
and expressed what she felt to be a great happiness to herself
to exercise and cultivate in others. " To delight in good is
the temper and disposition of angels."]
My good old grandmother died in the winter of 1787,
an event all her grown-up sons, and her only daughter, felt
deeply at the time, and none of the family more than my-
self ; for, with many infirmities of temper, she had a noble
generosity of heart, and had always treated me with most
affectionate indulgence. It was a little later in the same
year that a circumstance occurred upon which perhaps
hinged the future condition and happiness of my life.
In the spring of 1787 Mrs. Meliss wrote to tell me that
her husband, who had become a zealous borough reformer,
was going as a delegate from Perth to attend before a Com-
mittee on Borough reform in the House of Commons,
along with a distinguished Scottish patriot, Mr. Archibald
Fletcher, of Edinburgh, who had written " The Principles
of the Bill for Scottish Borough Reform," now to be brought
into the House of Commons, and that, if I chose, she would
accompany the travellers as far as Oxton. Nothing could
exceed my satisfaction on receiving this intelligence. I
had very dim and imperfect notions concerning politics,
but during the American war I had caught many liberal
opinions from my father, and my grandfather, and uncle
Hill, all of whom detested the arbitrary and unjust prin-
ciples of that war, by which England lost her colonies
in North America; and from the admiration General
Washington's conduct excited, and the estimation in which
Sir George Saville's character was held, I had conceived the
loftiest opinion of a disinterested lover of his country, and
c
34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
my curiosity was strongly awakened to see the reformer in
whose praise my friend Mrs. Meliss wrote in such glowing
terms. The party from Scotland arrived some time in
April 1787. Mr. Fletcher was then about forty-three, of
a grave, gentleman-like, prepossessing appearance. There
was an expression of intelligence and benevolence in his
countenance, with great mildness and gentleness of manners.
I was flattered by the pleasure he seemed to take in con-
versing with me. I remember that the conversation
turned much on Ossian's Poems. He was a great admirer
of the works ascribed to the Celtic bard, and, to a certain
extent, a believer in their authenticity, having heard
several of them (or poems of the same description) recited
in his youth, before Macpherson translated and gave them
to the world in their present form. Mrs. Brudenell gave a
little musical party at her cottage to our Scottish friends.
She always contrived to give these simple entertainments
a tasteful and elegant appearance. At the end of three
days the reformers left us to pursue their route to London.
I don't remember any impression of what is called love at
first sight from this interview with Mr. Fletcher, but it
would appear that I had made some impression of this
sort on his mind. Mr. Meliss wrote to his wife that his
companion could think and talk of nothing but Miss
Dawson. Mr. Meliss returned some time sooner than his
friend, and brought me a handsome copy of Ossian's Poems
from Mr. Fletcher, with a letter containing some critical
remarks upon them, and a request that I would honour
him with a letter to say how I liked the work. My vanity
was flattered by the respect paid to my opinion ; some
letters passed between us, and though the correspondence
was confined to literary subjects, I found it extremely in-
teresting. Some time afterwards I remember to have felt
somewhat piqued and mortified to find that Mr. Fletcher
FIKST IMPRESSIONS DEEPENED. 35
had passed through Tadcaster, on his way northwards,
without so much as calling at Oxton. On explaining how
this happened, it appeared that he had, with two com-
panions, arrived at Tadcaster at twelve o'clock at night,
had taken a chaise to Oxton, and had walked round and
round my father's house, in the dead of night, without
daring to disturb the family, and had then returned to the
inn at Tadcaster to be ready to set out with his compan-
ions early next morning for Scotland. I was not displeased
with the romance of this incident, but I thought if he had
cared much about seeing me he would have contrived to
accomplish it. This was not the disappointment of one who
loved, but of one who fancied that she was more beloved
than she now appeared to be. There was some interrup-
tion to our correspondence : it languished on my side.
In the spring of 1788 Mr. Fletcher again paid us a short
visit at Oxton. He was accompanied by the Hon. John
Douglas, afterwards Earl of Selkirk, who was also a borough
reformer, and they were on their way to attend the Parlia-
mentary Committee on that subject in London. On his
return from town in June we had removed from Oxton to
a house in Tadcaster ; and I do remember that when I
received his note from the inn, saying that he would do
himself the honour to call and spend the evening with us,
I did resort to the toilette to curl my hair with rather more
care than usual. I was more struck even than before with
the good sense and good taste of his conversation, and much
interested in his animated account of the splendid speeches
he had heard at Westminster Hall, at the trial of Warren
Hastings. My own mind had perhaps made some advance
in knowledge and reflection, and I enjoyed this visit more
than I had done before. The correspondence which had
grown languid on my part was resumed with more spirit,
but was still confined to literary and general subjects.
36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
In the summer of the same year, while visiting Don caster
in the company of two Scotch acquaintances, a Mr. and
Mrs. Anderson, who went to place their only daughter at
a boarding-school at that place, I accidentally became
acquainted with the Eev. Edmund Cartwright, 1 who had
lately published " A Legendary Tale, Armine and Elvira,"
along with some other poems of considerable merit. Mrs.
Anderson was a great proficient in music. We had accom-
panied some ladies at Doncaster, whose names I now forget,
to see the old church there, and Mrs. Anderson was allowed
to play some sacred music on the organ. While she was so
employed I was struck with a simple and elegant inscrip-
tion to the memory of Mrs. Cartwright, the wife of the
Rev. Edmund Cartwright. I asked if that was the poet.
I had no sooner asked the question than I was introduced
to that gentleman, who, attracted by the music, had strolled
into the church. He was a grave-looking man, consider-
ably turned of forty, of very gentle and engaging manners.
He was acquainted with the family with whom we had
spent the day, and he accompanied us to their house to pass
the evening, and next day he took us to see some power-
looms of his invention, set to work, not by steam or water,
but by a large wheel turned by an ox. We dined that
day with Mr. Cartwright, and were all much pleased with
the good taste, animation, and variety of his conversational
talents. We proceeded next day to Matlock, promising
him another visit on our return from that place. At Mat-
lock and Buxton I had some opportunity of mixing in more
miscellaneous society than I had been accustomed to. I
was not insensible to the admiration I met with, but it was
not of a kind to gratify or interest me ; and much as I
admired the natural beauty of the scenery about Matlock,
and marvelled at the wonders of the great cavern in the
1 Mr. Cartwright was also the inventor of the power-loom.
REV. . CARTWRIGHT S FRIENDSHIP. 37
Peak of Derbyshire, I wearied of the heartless frivolity of
watering-place society, and longed to return to my affec-
tionate and happy home. Mrs. Brudenell had by this time
become an inmate of my father's family, and though subject
to irritability of temper from bad health and a life of dis-
appointment, she was always affectionate and sympathizing,
or lively and amusing. The very limited society of a small
country town did not compensate to us for that quietness
and repose we had enjoyed at Oxton, but we were so united
and attached a family that no place was so dear to me as
home.
My second visit to Mr. Cartwright confirmed our
mutual prepossessions. He soon distinguished me with
his friendship ; and, in the autumn of that year, I think,
he brought his gifted friend the Eev. George Crabbe, and
his amiable wife, to pay me a visit. I accompanied them
all three to York Minster, and at the distance of half a
century I have still a vivid recollection of the gratification
I then enjoyed in the society of such elegant and culti-
vated minds. Mr. Crabbe made me a present of his
" Village Library," and " Newspaper," two poems which
had been printed in quarto separately by Dodsley, in St.
Paul's Churchyard, the former in 1783, the latter in 1785.
I continued to correspond with Mr. Crabbe for several
years, and had the honour of being godmother to his
second son, now the Rev. John Crabbe. Mr. Cartwright
placed his two eldest daughters, Mary and Eliza, at the
Manor School of York, and they sometimes spent part of
their holidays with me at Tadcaster. His correspondence
was considered by me as a great privilege. He honoured
me with his confidence and friendship so far as to wish
me to become the mother of his five amiable children by
uniting my fate to his. I had not confidence in my own
worthiness for such a trust, but in refusing it, I neither
38 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
forfeited his good opinion nor his friendship. In the
winter of 1788 he introduced me to his excellent friend
Mr. Woodison, the learned and amiable Professor of Law
at Oxford (the successor of Sir William Blackstone), with
whom Mr. Cartwright had been a fellow-student at Mag-
dalen College. Mr. Woodison was a man of singular
modesty and refinement of manners; so diffident of his
own merits that he inspired diffidence in others, not of his,
but of their own pretensions. This sensibility of tempera-
ment was to him, I believe, a source of much disquietude,
in the active and busy life of a professional lawyer in
London. He was, in truth, better fitted to be a Lecturer
in a University than a Wrangler in Westminster Hall. I
was occasionally honoured with his correspondence from
our first acquaintance till the time of his death, which
happened, I think, in 1806 or 1807.
[Her intercourse with Mr. Cartwright and the chosen friends
to whom he introduced her never was recurred to in after-life
by our mother without warm interest, grateful interest, such
as we can well believe was called forth in her young days by
the opening thus given her for observing new aspects of life,
and for an interchange of thought much above that which an
ordinary country town affords. And with her, at this as at
all tunes, such variety from the usual current of home life
might be as safely as it was heartily enjoyed. No home
languor or unneighbourly fastidiousness followed from that
contact with "metal more attractive" which she might
occasionally find elsewhere. We can all testify from our
earliest childhood how habitually she practised the sentiment
of a favourite quotation " The joy of seeing is to tell." We
are very sure that it was so then, and that the home she
loved so dearly was always the brighter on her return by
what she gained when away from it. Meantime she found or
fastened life friendships in the place of her habitation. The
nearness at this time to her grandfather and aunts Hill, whose
house, "The Grange," stood in a pleasant field on the left
RECOLLECTIONS OF JOHN WESLEY. 39
bank of the Wharfe, edging close to the town of Tadcaster,
brought her more into daily intercourse with them than
formerly, and with the youngest of the three sisters especially,
whose influence henceforth became a telling one. The stately
maiden aunt, who for lack of indulgent tenderness had no
attraction for her love as a child, had much in her to draw
out admiring regard when advanced tastes were to be met and
ministered to. She read more than was common with ladies
of her date ; and though her reading was desultory enough,
ranging without any plan from " Baker's Chronicles " (" the
nearest" approach to a story-book, she used to tell us, that
came within the children's reach in their father's house in her
child days) up to the "Emile" and the "Nouvelle He'loise"
of Rousseau, and down (if we may so speak) to Mrs. Trimmer's
" Economy of Charity," the three latter books were almost
equally her favourites at the time now mentioned, an in-
stinctive taste for the noble and the practical at once, had
always led her to make her mind's food and possession out of
the best quality to be found in her somewhat curious variety
of book-companionship. But even more than her love of
books did her habitual practice of wise benevolence to the
poor meet the growing earnestness of our mother's growing
character, helping much at this time to strengthen in her a
value for the "good of uses," according to a phrase of old
Cotton Mather, which aunt Mary Hill often quoted, and to
deepen her sense of this large part of life's highest purpose.
We have often wished that our mother could have told us
more from her own local observation of that great awakening
of religious life in England in which the founders of Methodism
bore so large a part. As an era in our country's history, no
one regarded it with higher interest in after-life than she, and
not a few members of the Methodist community were at all
times objects of her loving honour ; but the phase of faith in
her own home could not well assimilate with Methodism.
Her father's joyous temperament repudiated the gloom he
often saw associated with early convictions in followers of the
new sect. His old English churchmanship made him im-
patient of long extempore prayers and sermons outstepping all
accustomed limits, and the wild extravagance often attendant
40 A U TO BIO GRAPH Y.
on the new services either disturbed his love of order or
furnished matter for his ready mirth. Mrs. Brudenell, from
somewhat like taste and temper of mind, agreed with him
fully, and aunt Dawson was at all times more given to doing
for, than differing from those about her. All three were alike
incapable of bitterness in their hostility ; but on the whole,
the household tone was more that of mistrust than of charity
as to the genuineness or worth of Methodist pretensions. Our
mother had a very early but quite distinct recollection of
having gone once from Oxton with her grandmother to hear
John Wesley preach in the parish church of Tadcaster, then
(in consequence of the favourable dispositions of the Vicar) not
closed against him. The venerable beauty of his look never
was forgotten by any one who saw him ; the subject of his
sermon the alarming advance of luxury in England was
doubtless fixed in her memory by one illustration, which she
used to report to us, given on the preacher's own experience,
viz., " that in his young days his mother used to make one
apple serve for the family dumpling, whereas he found that
many apples were used for that purpose to satisfy the tastes
of the children of the time in which he then addressed them."
Wesley died in 1791, at a very advanced age; and at the
time now spoken of, many of his early helpers must have gone
before their master to the grave. The machinery of Methodism
was complete, and at Tadcaster it was in very active exercise ;
but probably much of the living interest and fervour spread
abroad in almost every part of our land by its first teachers
had evaporated. It was, at all events, not from this " adminis-
tration " of revealed truth that our mother received, as she has
noted in the following passage, those views of the Christian
message which were through life her abiding ones.]
It was in the winter of 1788 that I met, at the house
of the Misses Hutton (two excellent maiden ladies) at
Tadcaster, the Eev. John Clowes, Eector of St. John's
Church, in Manchester. The bond between these pious
and primitive old ladies and Mr. Clowes was, I believe,
their mutual admiration of the writings of Emanuel
CONVERSATION OF THE REV. J. CLOWES. 41
Swedenborg. Although I could not participate in their
enthusiasm for that visionary writer, I think it was from
Mr. Clowes's conversation and writings that I first became
interested in the spiritual sense of true religion, or, in
other words, felt its experimental truth ; and I wish here
to preserve the following transcript of the conversation
which I made from memory after passing the evening with
Mr. Clowes at Miss Hutton's. Several ladies, some of
the Methodist persuasion, were present. His views have
always appeared to me to contain much of the true spirit
of Christianity.
Being asked his opinion of Mr. Law's 1 works, Mr. Clowes
said, " I read them, madam, with great diligence and much
affection, and I found that they tended to produce a pure,
holy, and peaceable frame of mind, but I found likewise
that they disqualified a man for the duty of his calling. I
could not even go to perform my duty in the church with-
out finding something to disturb me. This made me con-
jecture that all was not right in Mr. Law's doctrine, and I
conceive it to be this : that it is admirably suited for the
contemplative but not for the active life of man, inasmuch
as it does not bring the outward man into entire subjec-
tion to the inner man, for man has two lives, or two
beings, in his very best state while on earth."
Speaking of regeneration, Mr. Clowes said he conceived
the vision of Jacob's ladder to afford a beautiful figure on
this subject, and that we should do well to consider that
the descent was a much more difficult and arduous task
than the ascent. The ascent was the desire of knowledge,
or the love of truth, which made us climb the ladder, that
we might know God and the things of His kingdom ; but
when we have reached the top of the ladder it will avail
us nothing unless the love principle, or the love of good,
1 Author of " Serious Call."
42 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
descend with us, penetrate to the very bottom of our hearts,
and purge them of all unclean affections, so that the natural
man should act under entire subordination to, and entire
conjunction with, the spiritual man. Thus is the descent
much more difficult than the ascent, as it is said, " And he
dreamed, and behold a ladder set upon the earth, and the
top of it reached to heaven, and behold the angels of God
ascending and descending."
Asking him how we should know that we were in a safe
state without deceiving ourselves, he said, " Let us carefully
examine what is our delight. If our delight be in good,
then may we certainly conclude that our state is safe, because
all good is from God and the things of His kingdom."
When asked what he conceived to be the state of the
blessed, he replied in a calm, but animated tone of voice,
" I conceive the state of the blessed to be a total forgetful-
ness or absence of self, and to consist in beholding the
good and happiness of others, so that every individual will
enjoy the whole happiness of heaven." He afterwards
said, " It was a principle in the old law, that if any man
should kill his neighbour unawares, he might abide for a
time in the ' City of Refuge.' This he conceived a beauti-
ful figure to represent the mercy of God. We often
engaged in action from a principle of good, but in the per-
formance of it were overtaken unawares by some evil or
uncharitable inclination. The good principle which at
first operated was from God, and this is the city of refuge
in which we may abide until the enemy which thwarted
us is overcome." He added, " The state of man is a state
of absolute dependence upon God, and the most desirable
frame of mind is that in which the Psalmist saith, ' I am
poor and needy, but the Lord careth for me."
Being asked what was meant by justifying faith, he
said, " It is to be feared many deceive themselves in this
CONVERSATION OF THE REV. J. CLOWES. 43
matter. It is dangerous to rest our salvation on the bare
belief of the death and sufferings of our Lord. That is
indeed resting in the first attainments of religion. Belief
enlightens the understanding, but it is love which regulates
the affections and produces obedience to the commands of
God, without which no man can enter into the kingdom of
glory. Works are not in themselves meritorious, but as
being tests of obedience, for without works the spiritual
world would stagnate."
" I conceive," he said, " that the great evil of life arises
from a contempt of others in comparison with self. A
strict and resolute self-examination, therefore, and sup-
plication for Divine assistance, will enable us to expel this
evil, for evil affections must be expelled before we can
receive good ones. Who would put lambs among wolves?"
On being asked if he thought fear and doubt of the
favour of God consistent with true faith, he said, " Most
certainly ; for it is impossible to arrive at any degree of
favour with God but by the state of deep and sincere
humiliation, which produces fear and doubt, and which
proceeds from a clear conception of the beauty and holiness
of the Lord's kingdom. This is, perhaps, the best state
man can be in, because while he is under the influence of
these fears he will be continually labouring to grow better,
and be continually dependent on God for grace and favour.
This is the cross which we must all bear if we would be
followers of the Lamb and partakers of His kingdom.
We are commanded not to resist evil, for the fierce and
violent spirit of opposition which this resistance would
demand is hurtful to us. When evil assailments come
our only security is in our dependence upon God. He
will give us strength to overcome evil, though we should
perish in attempting to resist it. Every man is according
to his own desire, for assuredly the Lord wills the good and
44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
happiness of all His creatures. If a man say he desires
to be better, and that he is unhappy because his desire is
not fulfilled, let not that man be impatient ; he has begun
to bear his cross, and if he bears it patiently, humbly wait-
ing for a better state, he will certainly obtain his desire.
The good he did, because he saw it was commanded, will
soon be his delight ; and to delight in good is the temper
and disposition of angels."
I renewed my acquaintance with this truly pious and
amiable man twenty years afterwards, when on a visit to
Miss Kennedy at Manchester, in 1808. He was much
beloved and honoured by the large congregation of St.
John's Church, Manchester ; and when he had been fifty
years their rector, they erected in that church a marble
tablet, with a design and inscription expressive of the
affection of his flock towards him, and of their gratitude
for his labours of love in the promotion of Sunday Schools,
and in the moral and religious education of the poor.
Soon afterwards he removed, on account of his state of
health, to Warwick, where I saw him again in 1829. He
told me that he was then in his 84th year, employed in
translating the Psalms from the Hebrew, and that his
motive for such undertaking was " to control the activity
of his thoughts, and to give them a profitable direction."
In the spring of 1789 my father allowed me to accom-
pany Mr. and Mrs. Wright, of Lawton, in Perthshire (who
had come to place their eldest daughter at school at York),
to pay a second visit to my friend Mrs. Meliss, in the
neighbourhood of Perth. On our way through Edinburgh
I called on Mr. Fletcher at his lodgings in Parliament
Square, along with Mr. and Mrs. Wright. His servant
told us that he was at the General Assembly. We left
our Edinburgh address, Captain Inglis, George Square ;
and -in the evening Mr. Fletcher joined us there, and
VISIT TO PERTH. 45
accompanied us on horseback next morning part of the way to
the Queen's Ferry, but was obliged to leave us to attend his
duty in the General Assembly of the Church, of which he
was an elder, and where he was then most warmly engaged in
supporting the claims of Professor Dalzel to be Clerk of the
Assembly. I meantime proceeded with Mr. and Mrs. Wright
to Perth, and took up my residence again at the house of my
friends Mr. and Mrs. Meliss, at their pleasant villa of Kose-
mount, near that place. My impressions of the hospitality,
kindness, and superior information of the Scotch, in compari-
son with those of the same rank in England, were confirmed
by my second visit to Scotland. As soon as his engagements
admitted of his leaving Edinburgh, Mr. Fletcher came to
pay a visit at Mr. Meliss' s, and then the opportunity of
conversing much together confirmed the attachment he had
entertained for me from our first acquaintance in 1787,
and converted the sentiments of respect and high esteem
I had felt for him into those of a tenderer nature. I
thought I had never met with a person of such real eleva-
tion of mind, and such independence and worth of character ;
and a happy union of thirty-seven years as his wife served
to confirm me in that opinion. It was agreed that he
should come to Harrogate in the autumn of that year, and
from thence pay us a visit, when he had my permission to
make his wishes known to my father. In the meantime
we were to correspond as friends, as we had formerly
done. His letters were always shown to my father ; and
perhaps a person much versed in the language of the heart
might have discovered more in them than the lectures of a
philosopher or the epistles of a friend. The autumn
arrived, however, and the dclaircissement was made. My
father positively opposed the union. We were willing
to wait till he thought Mr. Fletcher's circumstances justi-
fied the prudence of it. But no ! my kind, fond, and
46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
hitherto most indulgent father had formed splendid ex-
pectations for the child on whom he doated. He could
not think of parting with me to such a distance. He could
not think of my marrying a man altogether without
fortune, and where there was so great a disparity of years,
one, too, who had made no provision for a family.
These were sound and rational objections. I admitted
that they were so, and I promised to remain unmarried,
but I felt that I had so far encouraged Mr. Fletcher's
attachment, that I could not, either with honour to him
or satisfaction to myself, marry any other person. I was
not, perhaps, what in the language of romance is called
in love with Mr. Fletcher, but I was deeply and tenderly
attached to him. He had inspired a confidence and regard
I had never felt for any other man. I could not bear the
thought of marrying in opposition to my father's will, but
I was resolved on principle never to marry so long as Mr.
Fletcher remained single. This did not satisfy my father.
For the first time in his life he was unjust ; he attempted to
effect that by authority which he had failed to accomplish
by reason and kindness. He became stern and severe in
his conduct towards me. This produced its necessary
consequence, evasion and concealment. I received Mr.
Fletcher's letters clandestinely. I was decidedly wrong in
doing so, but either I must have sacrificed Mr. Fletcher's
happiness without satisfying my father's prejudices, or I
must have continued the correspondence. I chose the
latter, with the sincere intention of prevailing on Mr.
Fletcher to give up the engagement, for it would then have
been less painful to me to have done so than to have
offended my father. But I was unacquainted with the
history of the human heart ; at the end of two years I
found that Mr. Fletcher had reasoned me into a conviction
that it would be best for the interest and happiness of all
VISIT TO RIPON. 47
parties that we should marry ; that my father's objections,
though quite natural, were not founded in truth and
justice, since he had nothing to object to in Mr. Fletcher's
character or position in society.
In the winter of 1789-90 I paid a visit to a friend at
Eipon, Mrs. Harrison, and there became acquainted
with Lord Grantley. He was then, I should think,
bordering on fifty, a man of insinuating address and of
cultivated taste and accomplishments. He distinguished
me by marked attention, invited my father to accompany
me to visit him and his mother at Grantley, and showed
me a preference, which, had my heart been untouched and
my faith unpledged, might, by flattering my vanity, have
made some impression on my heart. But happily I had
nothing of the coquette in my disposition, and the atten-
tions of this nobleman, though flattering, were indifferent to
me. I had, besides, no good opinion of his moral character,
and in all the partialities and friendships I have had in
life, either towards my own sex or the other, I never could
found friendship on anything but solid esteem and moral
approbation. I might be pleased or amused with, but I could
not like, far less love, any one I did not thoroughly respect.
Report and gossip, even so far as paragraphs in newspapers,
gave my hand to Lord Grantley. Certainly he never
asked me to do so in words ; his attentions were always
delicate and respectful. He visited me frequently at my
father's house, but I took care to save his pride by
requesting a mutual friend, Dr. Kilvington, to acquaint
him with my engagement to Mr. Fletcher. From that
time his visits to my father's house were discontinued.
Mr. Fletcher was made acquainted by me with every visit
this noble person paid me ; and I believe it was owing to
my virtuous attachment to him that I was saved from
sacrificing my happiness to a splendid but miserable fate.
4S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Lord Grantley might, or he might not, have had serious
intentions to make me an offer of marriage. Had I been
free, it is possible that the vanity of my character might
have led me to encourage his addresses. I never did so,
however, but I perceived that my dear father was gratified
to see me so distinguished ; and though he would never
have consented to sacrifice me to a bad man, of any rank,
had he known him to be such, he could scarcely persuade
himself that one of that condition, who preferred his
daughter, could be undeserving. My excellent aunt, and
my attached friend, Mrs. Brudenell, pleaded my cause and
Mr. Fletcher's with my father : still he remained inex-
orable. My health began to suffer from the alienation of
my father's confidence and kindness. My home was no
longer cheerful or happy. Since he would not be satisfied
with my remaining unmarried, all my hope now was in his
becoming reconciled to my marriage to one, whom I was
sure he would find worthy of my confidence, and on the
16th of July 1791 I became the wife of Mr. Fletcher.
[The marriage ceremony took place in Tadcaster church,
and though her father did not sanction it by his presence, he
did not on that day refuse a loving farewell to his child, nor
did he refuse to see the husband to whom she had given herself
with a rightly assured heart " Be kind to her, sir, she has
been tenderly brought up," were his parting words to him, as
aunt Dawson used to tell us. Never were words lodged in a
more faithful heart, or acted on more tenderly.]
And here (our mother continues, after giving the date of
her marriage) I am inclined to review the circumstances
which had hitherto formed my character. My mother
having died soon after giving me birth, that event gave a
melancholy interest to my life from its very commencement.
I became an object of the concentrated affections of all the
family, and this acted in two ways as a great stimulus to
REFLECTIONS ON HER MARRIAGE. 49
the desire of approbation and as a powerful means of culti-
vating the kindly affections. I became early acquainted
with the happiness of being tenderly beloved, and was
reared and nourished by the " law of kindness." I was
wholly governed by that law, and knew no other authority.
I had no temptation to violate truth, because I was treated
with openness and justice, but so great was my fear of
giving offence, that I remember, at four years old, to have
pinned on the head of a beautiful tulip which I had in-
advertently broken, and instead of frankly acknowledging
the mischief I had done, I tried artfully to conceal it. My
father's stern reproof at this little instance of deception
and concealment made a deep impression on my mind. It
was the first time I had done anything to forfeit his con-
fidence, or to feel the disgrace of having acted a lie. The
excessive pain his displeasure gave me, and the degradation
of being convicted of meanness, made me thenceforward
ready to confess my faults, and I was rewarded with the
praise I dearly loved for being open and ingenuous. My
religious education in childhood was simple and impressive.
I was early taught to love God because He was good, and
to desire to be good myself that I might not offend Him.
My father's scriptural maxim, and that which he con-
sidered the test of religion as well as morals, was " to do
to others as we would be done unto." This sacred axiom
formed my only code of morals. My father's life was an
illustration of this principle. Much as I was praised,
indulged, and excited, I never was suffered to domineer
over or to act unjustly or unkindly towards others ; and I
do think that the selfish passions were early curbed and
brought into subjection by the example as well as precepts
of those I lived with. As I was an object of much
tenderness and affection, so nature and education gave me
an affectionate and grateful disposition. I remember my
D
50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
friend, Dr. Kilvington, in writing to me once said, " I have
known as beautiful, as attractive, and more witty young
women, but I have never known any one so tenderly, and
truly, and universally beloved as you are, and I believe it
arises from your capacity of loving others." I had nothing
satirical in my disposition, no wish to detract from, or to
see others mortified. I had little merit in this, having, as
I said before, no very quick perception of the ludicrous.
I was sufficiently vain .of my own good qualities, and
sufficiently blinded by self-love to the defects of my own
character; but this did not lessen my respect for, or
admiration of, the excellence of others. I never was
tormented with any of the passions that belong to " the
family of hatred." I was too easily provoked to anger,
but it was momentary, and I almost instantly sought
reconciliation when I had given offence. I had not been
brought up in the school of fashion, which so sadly hardens
the heart and limits the understanding. The great error
of my education was, that it excited too great a desire of
general approbation. This led to something like a love of
display, and it cost me much in after life to conquer the
mischief of this propensity. Mrs. Brudenell early culti-
vated in me a high-toned and poetical turn of mind, and
if vanity was mixed up with this feeling, it saved me from
the vice of gossiping, from the love of finery, and other
vulgar propensities. I had been a happy and indulged
child in my father's house. I was going to enter on a new
and a wider sphere of duties. When leisure serves I will
endeavour to set down faithfully how they were performed.
[From Mr. Fletcher, explanatory how Eliza Dawson acquired
the name of Sophia in April 1787:
" From repeated observation of the character of my own
mind, I think it is distinguished by some contradictions. Xot
AIR. FLETCHERS LETTER IN 1787. 51
incapable of submitting to dull and dry studies, it can also
travel with delight, even with romantic wildness, into the fields
of fancy and imagination. No young lady with the warmest
imagination ever read plays or novels with more pleasure or
more avidity than I have always done, and still do. I take
the keenest interest in the ideal characters I like, and conceive
the hottest resentment against those whose manners I dis-
approve. I am, in fact, agitated in the same manner as if I
were acquainted and concerned with such persons in transac-
tions in common life.
"In 1779 or 1780 I was confined for many weeks to the
house. I spent my time partly in reading novels. Among
these there fell into my hands, I think for the first time, the
beautiful novel of ' Tom Jones,' by Fielding. I was struck
with its variety of incident, its striking delineation of character,
and its inimitable manner of describing the secret springs of
human conduct. Sophia was too beautiful and too brilliant a
figure not to attract in a most peculiar manner my attention.
I was astonished. Sophia, painted by the inimitable pencil of
Fielding, was just the woman I desired to see. She was in
every respect so. Her person, her manners, her sentiments,
her disposition, were such as it was impossible not to admire.
She never uttered a thought of which I did not cordially
approve, nor disclosed a passion with which I did not instantly
sympathize, and her manner of saying and doing everything
was unspeakably graceful ; the more surprising, too, that she
never appeared to have been away from the house of her
father, a country gentleman. In this lady, from almost the
first moment I was introduced to her acquaintance, I took the
warmest interest. I was perfectly uneasy when she was out
of sight. I passed over parts of the book until I came to those
parts where I was to be introduced to her company. In short,
I loved Sophia with sincerity, and although I am ashamed
almost to confess it, as it seems so ridiculously romantic, yet
the truth is that this ideal Sophia made so deep an impression
on my imagination that it never was effaced till the second or
third day of my visit (I know not yet whether to call it fatal
or fortunate visit) at Oxton, in April 1787 ; and since you
have desired me to tell why I have given you the name of
52 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
Sophia, you must excuse me if I relate the time and manner
in which you completely erased from my mind every trace and
impression of the ideal Sophia, who had been so long the
object of my adoration, but whose place you have ever since
occupied with additional advantages.
" You know I set out on my journey from Scotland to London
in 1787, in company with your amiable friends, the Melisses
of Perth, at a time when I was ignorant that such a person as
Eliza Dawson existed in the world, far less that she was BO
very dangerous a personage as I have since found her to be.
In the course of our journey I heard my agreeable fellow-
travellers often mention the name of Eliza Dawson, with
expressions of peculiar regard and esteem, but without saying
anything of her person or accomplishments. I therefore paid
little or no attention to the conversation, so far as respected
her, and expecting to meet with nothing at Oxton (for I had on
the road learned the name) that could either amuse or inform,
I was extremely unwilling to go there at all, being very im-
patient to push forward to London. Besides the pressing
nature of our business, which was urgent and important. London
a new and great scene presented to my imagination the
strongest inducements to despatch. I proposed to Meliss that
I should wait at the inn at Tadcaster, or some other place,
until he should leave Mrs. Meliss at Oxton, and that we should
proceed to London as soon as possible j but Meliss then told
me, I think for the first time, that he intended to make a stay
of some days at Oxton. I was surprised, and not a little dis-
pleased, at this unexpected interruption. However I resolved,
though with reluctance, to accompany my friends to Oxton, but
not in the best humour. As I am rather irritable than sour,
it soon went off, I believe before we reached Oxton, at least I
am sure it did not continue long after. Mrs. Brudenell was
there at tea ; she was the person who first engaged my atten-
tion ; her frankness was uncommon, and soon removed any
little remains of discontent I had felt at being stopped in my
progress towards the metropolis. I knew the reserve of the
Scotch character, I had heard much of the open frankness of
the English ; Mrs. Brudenell, I thought, proved it to be true,
and I was pleased without being surprised. Before I was an
MR. FLETCHER'S LETTER IN 1787. 53
hour or two in the house I knew, I think, from this lady her-
self, a great part of her history, though it was rather peculiar.
For a long time she exclusively, or almost exclusively, occupied
my attention and conversation. When she was gone (for I
think she went away before supper), or when her discourse was
exhausted, I had time to observe Miss Dawson, of whom, I
think, I had not before taken the least notice, unless by once
or twice glancing towards her, which produced no effect but a
pretty strong curiosity to be better acquainted with her. We
exchanged some words ; without any skill in physiognomy or
pretending to apply its rules, I was soon prepossessed. The
conversation proceeded. Miss Eliza gradually unfolded herself ;
she riveted my attention more completely than Mrs. Brude-
nell had done. I listened with greater surprise and pleasure.
I soon discovered in a beautiful form an elegance of mind and
sentiment, and an easy gracefulness of manner, which I thought
were not natural to the little village of Oxton. I began to be
interested in Eliza ; I felt a very particular desire to sit beside
her at supper, and I think I contrived to do it. I was still
more and more pleased with her manner and conversation.
Her easy affability was such that I think we were tolerably
well acquainted before supper was done. Nothing could be
more pleasing to me than Eliza's frankness nothing more
delightful than her elegant turn of manner and conversation,
and the peculiar intelligence by which it was conducted.
'There is,' I said to myself, 'something very uncommon
about this girl ; I wonder Meliss never spoke of her in a more
particular manner.' When the ladies retired after supper I
felt an uneasy sensation, as if I had been deprived of something
which contributed extremely to the pleasure of the company. I
could not enjoy the company afterwards, though in any other
circumstances it would, I think, have been agreeable, for it was
distinguished by every mark of politeness and hospitality.
Meliss went with me into my room, on which I instantly
turned and said, rather peevishly (though surely that was
absurd), ' Meliss, why did you never speak of Miss Dawson in
a more particular manner on our journey ? or did you never
discover anything superior about her ? ' Meliss laughed, and
said he believed Mrs. Meliss wanted to surprise me. ' If that
54 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
was her object,' said I, ' it is completely accomplished, for I
never was more surprised in my lifetime.' Meliss again
laughed, and maliciously asked me whether I wished to be off
for London next morning. I bid him go to his bed, and I
should think of that after I had slept.
" I awoke next morning without the least desire to leave Oxton.
My impatience to be in London was greatly diminished. A few
days sooner or later, I thought, did not signify much, and the
state of our public business, though it was pressing, did not
require absolutely that we should be in London on a precise
day. All the anticipated enjoyments of London vanished. I
became quite reconciled to a longer residence at Oxton. My
only anxiety now was to see Eliza again in the morning, and
I felt an irresistible desire to place myself beside her at break-
fast. She appeared to still more advantage ; I was indeed
charmed. When breakfast was about over and I took a view
of Eliza's form, manner, and conversation, the character of
Sophia Western instantly flashed on my mind. The resem-
blance was in every feature striking. I began from that
moment to lose sight entirely of the ideal Sophia who had so
long figured in my imagination, and to transfer the name, for
which I had so peculiar a fondness, to Eliza Dawson. I
mentioned the circumstance to Meliss. I baptized Eliza by
the name of Sophia, to which I had ascribed every amiable
quality. The more I became acquainted with Eliza, the more
I was convinced of the truth of the resemblance between the
two characters. I grew quite uneasy when Eliza was not
present : I was unhappy if I did not sit beside her at table.
The mind of Eliza every day gradually and occasionally unfolded
itself with peculiar force as well as elegance. If I had found
brilliants on the wild and rugged mountains among which I
first drew my breath, I could not have been more surprised
and delighted than I was by meeting such a person as Eliza.
' Fielding,' said I, ' you have drawn your heroine, it must be
confessed, with a fine pencil, but here is in real life, at a little
country village, a character every way equal, in some respects
far superior. Without saying anything of external form, the
mental accomplishments of Eliza Dawson are above those of
the amiable and intelligent Sophia Western. You seem to
MR. FLETCHER'S LETTER IN 1787. 55
think, Fielding, that knowledge of books is no ornament to a
woman ; but had you known Eliza Dawson, you would have
altered your opinion. She would "have taught you how
compatible literary acquirements are with the most engaging
feminine manners, and when so blended you would have seen
how much they must contribute both to the ornament and
the happiness of life.' " Such were my sentiments of Eliza
Dawson, early adopted, and since confirmed by indubitable
experience.
" Every hour of my residence at Oxton increased my esteem
for Eliza Dawson. I could not endure to call her by any other
name than that of Sophia, so deeply fixed in my imagination
was the resemblance between her and the ideal Sophia, with
the advantage every way on her side. One incident had,
however, one day piqued me not a little. I had been pretty
free of my censures on Pope's Translation of Homer, which
unluckily had been a favourite with Sophia, but she listened
with at least apparent satisfaction to what I had said. Some
time afterwards, during our residence at Oxton, on conversing
with Meliss on the subject of my criticisms on Pope, Meliss,
without any design I believe, mentioned that Sophia, in
allusion to my criticisms, had observed that some people were
very ill to please, and made criticisms merely to show that they
could make them, or something of that kind. I was, I confess,
seriously offended by this remark of Sophia, to whose good
sense and clear intelligence I had meant to pay a compliment
by entering at all on such a subject, but I said nothing to
Meliss about my taking Sophia's observation ill. I, however,
positively determined never to make to her another observation
of the same or a similar kind, and to keep a profound silence
and reserve, and to converse as little as possible with Sophia
during the remainder of my stay at Oxton. In this resolution
I thought myself fixed and unalterable, but I no sooner saw
Sophia than it was violated, and I conversed with her with as
much openness and as little reserve as ever. I was surprised at
my weakness, but could not help it ; and every trace of my
resentment was effaced by Sophia's sitting beside me almost the
whole night of Mrs. Brudenell's concert a^ the cottage. It is
amazing how easily the imagination embraces what one wishes
53 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
to be true. I thought Sophia took some satisfaction in being
with me rather than with any other, but I immediately checked
this idea by asking myself how weak it was to mistake a mere
mark of polite attention to a stranger for a partiality which
could not exist. I, however, sincerely declare I was so happy,
that I thought I never could wish to separate from Oxton.
But the hour now approached when I perceived I must leave
it, with whatever reluctance. Sophia accompanied us to the
coach, and in going there, I know not by what accident or
power of sympathy, but we certainly walked arm in arm a
little circumstance which increased beyond measure my reluc-
tance at leaving Oxton. When we arrived at the coach, and I
contrasted the form and manner of Sophia with a female
figure to whose company I saw we must for some time be
sacrificed, I own I was shocked. I could scarcely think them
of the same species. I was mortified beyond measure when I
sat down in the coach my change of situation was too sudden
and too violent.
" Misery, however, is often ingenious in relieving itself. I
soon learned I know not how that Meliss had got Sophia's
watch to get repaired in London. I immediately seized on
the watch as the only representative or substitute for Sophia
I could have, and gave Meliss mine. This watch of Sophia's
was my darling companion by day and night ; in the posses-
sion of it I took the most extreme delight, and kept it the
whole time, except when I was reluctantly obliged to part
with it, to send to the watchmaker. When I was possessed of
it I felt, I thought, some connexion between Sophia and me.
It is astonishing what trivial circumstances affection will lay
hold of to gratify itself. Stripped of this watch, I really
knew not what to do, how to get anything belonging to Sophia,
or how to begin a correspondence with her, without which I
felt I could not be happy. I resolved to make her a present
of Ossian's Poems, in the view of giving rise to some corre-
spondence. What has followed since, Sophia is acquainted
with, and I need not repeat it. It depends on her whether I am
to be rendered for ever happy or miserable by that visit at
Oxton which gave her the name of Sophia, a name to which
I own I am still partial, because I know no other word that
LETTERS TO MR. FLETCHER. 57
brings so forcibly and so clearly before me the accomplishments
and perfections of Eliza Dawson. A. F."
I cannot resist inserting parts of two letters to my father
before their marriage, in the same year in which it took place
(1791), as marking the entire confidence and trust she placed
in the man who had won her affections by the depth and
constancy of his own. The old-fashioned mode of speaking of
herself as Sophia, the name he gave her after their first meeting
in 1787, is sometimes kept up in the correspondence of four
years' continuance. This letter is dated January 1791.
"Sunday Morning.
" Having put me in possession of your religious sentiments,
and of your opinion that nothing but a life of active faith and
obedience can assure to us the blessings of eternity, you will
think, perhaps, the circumstance Sophia was led to mention
at the beginning of this letter savours something of Romish
superstition, as on perusing it herself, Sophia really thinks it
appears that she was arrogating to herself the monkish office
of absolution. As she believes that is the very last character
her friend would wish her to assume, she is desirous of explain-
ing the motives that carry her every day to the bedside of the
dying woman she mentioned, and as often to read to her the
evangelical writings.
" This poor woman is above eighty ; her character in early
life is said not to have been immaculate. However, about seven
years ago, she came, laden with infirmities, to ask relief from
this parish (to which she belongs), and was accordingly sent
to the town workhouse. She fell sick about six weeks ago,
and has no friend or relation near. This circumstance acci-
dentally came to my knowledge, and I went to see her, and
found her in a nice clean bed, in a very comfortable little room
(for, to the credit of this place, the poor-house is admirably
conducted) ; an old woman had been hired to attend her. ' I
want nothing, madam, that money can furnish ; but I am on
my deathbed, and I have not one creature in the world that
cares for me. I have endeavoured to make my peace with God
and my Saviour, but I want somebody to read to me ; I want
58 A U TO BIO GRAPH Y.
a comforter.'' These, my dear friend, were her very words,
uttered in a voice scarcely audible. Every day since I have
read to her those parts of Scripture where ' The Comforter '
is promised, and the mercy of God to the repentant sinner is
most fully revealed and manifested. Did you see how she
stretches her withered arm to put by the bed-curtain when she
hears me open the door how she points to the Bible that lies
on a chest of drawers near the bedside, then points to a chair,
which Sophia draws close to the bed, then listens while she
reads slowly and distinctly, and, without speaking a single word,
when any passage strikes her, raises her hand quietly, an
impulse of devotion which Sophia observes and always repeats
the passage did you see all this, my dear friend, and perceive
how hope brightens her countenance, marred as it is by the
hand of death, you would, I know, for such a scene, relinquish
almost every other that imagination can conceive to give
comfort here. She told me to-day, in a whisper, she had no
fear of death, and added, 'You have indeed comforted me.'
I promised to see her every day while she lived, and the last
word I heard her utter was a blessing on me, raising herself a
little in bed, and putting by the bed-curtain to see me as long
as she was able. My dearest friend, what a tale is this to
relate to a profound politician and a learned lawyer ! but my
politician has a heart and a mind which I value above all his
profundity and all his learning, for he has a heart and mind that
can feel an interest in every story where Nature and simplicity
form a part, and, above all, wherein his Sophia is concerned."
" This moment I have come from performing my evening
service in the kitchen, reading and explaining to the servants
the words of Christ. I find the parlour empty, the good folks
having all adjourned to our father's apartment, and this leaves
me leisure to converse with you on paper. I am never more
disposed for this gratification than when I have been discharg-
ing an important duty : the delightful impression this leaves
upon my mind never fails to make me more sensible of the
happiness of loving and being beloved by you. I have felt
this very forcibly and very often, without inquiring into the
cause, as, on the other hand, I reproach myself much more
LETTERS FROM E. D. 59
severely for every fault that I commit than I used to do, prior
to our unequalled attachment. What a preservative, or rather
what an incentive to virtue is such an attachment ; it is com-
posed of sentiments that have exalted us above ourselves
I say above ourselves, for we should never have known what
we were capable of, we should have remained ignorant of
ourselves, if we had not known each other. We have, if you
will allow me the expression, been mirrors to each other. Had
we formed other connexions we possibly might have glided
through life like common lovers and fashionable married people,
and have been totally unacquainted with our own extensive
capacity for disinterested friendship, and deep and delicate affec-
tion. You would have continued mounted on your hobby-horse,
and have loved fame better than your wife. My character was
far less decided, I think, as Pope says, ' I had no character
at all,' before I knew you, therefore it is hard to say how I
should have turned out. 1 am interrupted and I find this
interruption has broken the thread of my story.
" The only conclusion we can deduce from the above is, that
no two persons were ever so happily destined for each other.
"E. D."
Part of Letter to Miss Cleaver, afterwards Mrs. Chapman.
" . . . . You tell me never to expect a regular letter, and
complain you are ' tasteless and uninteresting to yourself.' I
am certain you can find no other person to whom you are
uninteresting, and least of all to me, so write to me often, and
give me leave to judge whether or not your letters are insipid.
Dear Nanny, you were formed for activity and exertion, and
you suffer your powers to lie confined and dormant. I send
you a little book, simply written, from which, I think, more
real benefit may be deduced, both to yourself and others, than
from ten thousand folio pages of subtle disputations and
philosophical reasonings : such authors are read and admired ;
their precepts in theory are excellent ; but Mrs. Trimmer
recommends a practical system, which, if persevered in with
ardour, will effectually prevent you from feeling ' uninteresting
to yourself.' She drives away ennui by teaching you to
become a truly useful member of society. I declare to you I
60 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
speak from conviction. I used to substitute sentiment for
activity ; and though I had a silent gratification in the indul-
gence of my feelings, I was not happy. 'The Economy of
Charity ' pointed out to me an easy method of being useful to
others, and I of course became more important to myself, and
therefore happier ; for nothing is more necessary to happiness
than a certain portion of self-importance. All this you know
as well as I can tell you, only I can affirm that I can speak
from experience. If possible, continue personally to interest
yourself with your little flock, and contriving schemes for their
improvement : if they never answer, the disappointment won't
give you so much pain as the conception gave you pleasure.
I know you too well, and have known you too long, to be
deceived. With a heart so susceptible, and a mind so sanguine,
you cannot exist without exertion. There are few people I
should write to in this manner, because few people are like
you. If this letter is welcome to you, write next week and
tell me so. Yours, ELIZA DAWSON."
Inscribed on a blank leaf of Lavater's Work sent to Eliza
Dawson by Mr. Cartwright.
When on Eliza's face I fix my sight,
That living page I read with most delight,
I ask thee not, Lavater, to impart
The rules fallacious of thy idle art.
Without thy aid, untutored, there I find
Each perfect trace of her inspiring mind ;
There Wit and Fancy's rays united shine,
And Sense and Genius mark each varied line ;
There Taste and quick Intelligence appear
Intelligence as intuition clear.
Nor less the moral features can I trace
In the sweet lines of that expressive face.
How rich the radiance of that bright expanse !
Where every virtue beams in every glance
Affections such as angels feel reside
Soft without weakness ; firm, yet free from pride.
LINES BY MR. CARTWRIGHT. 61
There, too, see sensibility of soul,
Enchanting grace diffusing o'er the whole,
That, scorning dull cold Apathy's disguise,
Glows in her cheek and sparkles in her eyes.
What explanation, say then, can I need
Of characters that he who runs may read ?
Yet this I'll own could thy pretended skill
In prompt obedience to my ardent will,
Instruct me how to read her inmost heart,
Provided there in some dear tender part
My favoured name, by Love's soft trembling hand
Imprinted deep, were suffered to expand,
Then, then indeed, thy art would I adore,
And freely own, while every doubt was o'er,
Thy visionary dream derived from Heaven,
" And, though no science, fairly worth the seven."]
PAET II. 1
IT has pleased God in His great mercy to bring me to
my sixty-eighth birthday, and I am now writing in that
cottage in my native village which was for some years
inhabited by my aunt, Mrs. Fretwell, opposite to the house
in which sixty-eight years ago I first drew breath, and
where for eighteen years this day was annually celebrated
as a day of rejoicing amongst friends and neighbours. All
the merry-makers of those days are now in the grave except
my aunt, Miss Hill, now in her eighty-sixth year, and my-
self, now well stricken in years ; and the house is empty
and desolate and falling into decay. It will be half a
century next April since we left it.
My marriage day, the 16th of July 1791, was one of
the most sorrowful of my life. The pang of parting from
my father and all my family had almost broken my heart,
but I was not of a morbid temperament. Youth and hope,
and affectionate confidence in my husband, soon reconciled
me to the separation. I was received by Mr. Fletcher's
circle of friends in Edinburgh with a warmth of hospitality
and kindness I had never before met with among strangers.
Each vied with the other who should show most kindness
to the young bride of their friend. An English stranger,
too, was at that time (nearly fifty years since) a novelty in
Edinburgh compared with what it is now. Our circle was
not wide, or fashionable, or highly polished, but it was
intelligent and warm-hearted.
1 Our mother's continuation of her domestic memorials in her own hand-
writing is dated Oxton Cottage, January 15th, 1838.
EARLY MARRIED LIFE. 63
[The following letter, preserved by our mother's early friend,
Mrs. Laycock, to whom it was addressed about a month after
her marriage and arrival in Edinburgh, gives happy testimony,
then and there, to the (fleering influences which awaited her,
both in and out of her new home. It tells, too, what it was
in these which cheered her most the true and kindly estima-
tion in which she found her husband held, and his tender con-
sideration for her, not only as a wife, but as a daughter. He
had never allowed himself to feel resentment for her father's
opposition to his suit, always admitting that, in so far as
worldly considerations went, it was natural and reasonable.
There can be no doubt that this generous forbearance in him
advanced his cause in her heart, making her the more steadfast
during the trying period of her engagement, and strengthening
her as to the Tightness of fulfilling it.
To Mrs. Laycock.
" EDINBURGH, August 1791.
" You have known me long enough to find out that my hopes
were always extremely sanguine ; yet believe me, I had formed
no conception of the happiness I have enjoyed, and continue to
enjoy, in the society of my husband ; nor could I have conceived
that tenderness was so ingenious, for he absolutely contrives to
be continually giving me new and additional proofs of his affec-
tion. In addition to the attentions which constitute my happi-
ness, I have the satisfaction of seeing his character universally
esteemed, and his talents universally respected. Without troub-
ling himself about the selection of society, he seems to be ac-
quainted with none but good people, for he has so nice a sense
of honour, and cares so little about any distinctions but those
which arise from character, that persons of unsound principles
must feel uneasy with him. The concern he feels on account of
my father's illness affects me very sensibly. He is very sanguine
in the hope of some benefit arising from the prescriptions of the
Edinburgh physicians. I wish my friends at Tadcaster could
have seen the eagerness with which he convened the medical
men upon that occasion ; I wish it because I think it would
have given them a better knowledge of his character than they
64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
could receive from any other circumstance, especially the repre-
sentation of a wife."
Our mother's written reminiscences thus go on to tell of two
persons among the friend-circle of her past years in Edinburgh,
who were indeed no common ones.]
Chance placed me in the neighbourhood, in Hill Street,
of an Ayrshire family, the Fergussons of Monkwood ; l and
Miss Fergusson, the eldest daughter, became the earliest, as
she has always been the firmest and fondest, of my Edin-
burgh friends. Mrs. John Craig Millar, the young wife of
an advocate, 2 an intimate friend of my husband, soon fas-
cinated me with the brilliancy of her talents and the charms
of her conversation. She was the youngest daughter of
the celebrated Dr. Cullen. Her father's house was for
many years the resort of all the men of talent and literature
in Edinburgh, and of many women of rank and fashion.
David Hume, the historian; Adam Smith, author of "The
Wealth of Nations;" Black, the celebrated chemist; Henry
Mackenzie (often called, from his well-known book, " The
Man of Feeling"), were frequent visitors at Mrs. J. C.Millar's
early home, at the foot of the Mint Close, Canongate, where
Dr. Cullen then lived; and in their society his highly-gifted
family had acquired a taste for all that was intellectual and
refined. Mrs. Millar had singular quickness of parts, with
great sweetness of disposition and elegance of manners.
We became intimate friends, and our sympathy in the poli-
tical sentiments of our husbands was a great bond between
us. At this time, 1791 and 1792, the grand principles of
the French Eevolution occupied the thoughts and stirred
the passions of all thinking and feeling men. Mr. Fletcher
1 At Mr. Fergusson's house where Walter Scott was intimate, my mother
often met him in her early married life ; he did appear in the drawing-room
in those days, which very few did.
8 Eldest son of Professor Millar, of the Glasgow University, author of
some works of well-earned repute.
EDINBURGH FRIENDS. 65
was an ardent admirer of the first principles of that revolu-
tion. He loved liberty from an enlarged sense of philan-
thropy, not out of party spirit, but because he firmly believed
that a free government was the only means of promoting
national improvement and happiness. He had devoted the
last ten years of his life to obtaining for Scotland that
borough reform which he conceived would lead to Parlia-
mentary reform, and to the emancipation of Scotland from
that vile system of irresponsible municipal government, and
Parliamentary corruption, which disgraced and depressed
it, and made it a by-word among its English neighbours.
This feeling was so strong in my husband's mind that it
might be called his master-passion. I believe he would
have gone to the block in defence of his political principles
as cheerfully as any martyr that ever bled in that good
cause. But his sound judgment tempered his enthusiasm,
and prevented his ever doing any rash or foolish thing.
He never did that which he feared to avow. He was
solicited in the winter of 1792, by the celebrated Thomas
Muir, to join the Society of the " Friends of the People."
I remember Mr. Muir's calling on him one evening in Hill
Street, and I heard them at high words in an adjoining room.
When his visitor went away, Mr. Fletcher told me that Muir
had quitted him much dissatisfied because he could not
persuade him to join the Society. Mr. Fletcher added
" I believe him to be an honest enthusiast, but he is an
ill-judging man. These violent reformers will create such
an alarm in the country as must strengthen the Govern-
ment. The country is not prepared to second their views
of annual Parliaments and universal suffrage."
The country did become exceedingly alarmed, as he pre-
dicted, and the subsequent atrocities committed in France
by an unprincipled faction, the worst enemies of liberty,
produced such a horror (amongst the higher orders
E
66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
especially) in Scotland, that every man was considered a
rebel in his heart who did not take a decided part in sup-
porting Tory measures of government. Mr. Fletcher, how-
ever, kept firm to his Whig principles. Though abstractedly
he admired Eepublicanism, and wished that form of govern-
ment to have fair play in America, he did not by any means
desire the subversion of the British Constitution at home.
He was a staunch reformer, not a revolutionist. At that
time, however, and for several years afterwards, such was
the terror of Liberal principles in Scotland that no man at
the Bar professing these could expect a fair share of prac-
tice. There being no juries in civil cases, it was supposed
that the judges would not decide in favour of any litigant
who employed Whig lawyers. Mr. Fletcher always treated
this opinion with scorn, as a foul calumny against the Scot-
tish judges, though he suffered under it, being told by some
sincere friends that under such an impression they dared
not employ him as their advocate. We were often at that
time reduced to our last guinea; but such was my sympathy
in my husband's public feelings that I remember no period
in my married life happier than that, in which we suffered
for conscience' sake.
A great happiness occurred to us in the summer of 1792.
This was a visit from my dear father, my good aunt Daw-
son, and Mrs. Brudenell. That my father should come and
see with his own eyes how much my husband was honoured
in his own place and country, and how happy I was in my
new relationship, had been the height of my hopes and
wishes. Soon, indeed, this happiness was increased by the
birth of my eldest son, Miles Angus Fletcher, which took
place on the 6th of September 1792. In the following
spring we took our beautiful boy to cheer his grandfather
in Yorkshire, and after his weaning I left him there; while
later in that year (1793) I accompanied Mr. Fletcher to
VISIT TO RANNOCH. 67
\
pay his mother a visit at his early home among the " Braes
of Rannoch," after passing some weeks at the hospitable
house of Mr. Fletcher, of Dunans, in Argyleshire.
We proceeded from thence to Rannoch, in Perthshire,
where my mother-in-law lived with her second husband, Mr.
Macdiarmid, a true-bred Celt, who disdained to speak a word
of the Sasenach tongue, or to wear any dress but the phila-
beg and belted plaid. She was a devout and gentle-hearted
woman, refined by the purity and depth of her religious feel-
ings. She claimed hereditary descent from a certain re-
nowned Highland chieftain, M'Naughton, known as the
" Black Knight of Loch-Awe." He was hereditary keeper
of the King's castles before the Campbells had established
themselves in that district. But she allowed no pride in
this alliance with Highland chieftainship to make her for-
get her duty to God and her neighbour. The parish of
Rannoch was perhaps thirty miles in extent. On a Sunday
she used to convene her unlettered neighbours, the tacks-
men and the cottars' families, on the shady side of a hill,
and there translate aloud for them portions of the English
Bible into Gaelic. They came to her in all their troubles
and difficulties, for she was a woman of strong understand-
ing and admirable temper. She twice became the second
wife of men who had families by their first marriages.
She had six children by her first, and five, I think, by her
second husband, and these four families of children lived
under her maternal government in perfect harmony with
one another. She loved my husband, the eldest child of
her first marriage, with pride and fondness. She had be-
stowed all his little patrimony on his education, and from
the age of sixteen he had worked out his own honourable
independence, and had besides done much to help his
family. She had, at the time I first saw her, when be-
tween seventy and eighty, resigned all household cares to
68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
her widowed daughter-in-law, Mrs. John Macdiarmid, but
she was treated with respect and deference by all who ap-
proached her ; and, though living in a simple farm-house,
she and her old Celtic spouse (known by the name of Baron
Macdiarmid, an old patronymic of the Highlands, which
survived the possession of departed lands) dwelt in ease
and comfort, on an extensive sheep farm, then tenanted
by the widow of her son.
I had then never seen a state of society so primitive as
that at Rannoch. My husband and I were cherished
guests there, and it would have said little for my heart if
I had not loved and honoured the good old lady who at
once took me into her warmest affections.
Soon after our return to Edinburgh from the Highland
visit, my good uncle, Mr. William Dawson, and my cousin,
Miss Dawson, of Wighill, brought us home our darling
boy. He walked stoutly, though but one year and a week
old.
In the spring of 1794 my father made us a present of
an excellent house in Queen Street, No. 20, and came
down himself in the summer with my aunt and Mrs.
Brudenell to spend a month or two with us. His little
grandson, Miles, was now able to talk to him, and such
was his delight in looking on this child that I could not
find in my heart to refuse his request to take him along
with them when they left us. I think my dear father
enjoyed his second visit to Edinburgh even more than his
first. He saw me surrounded with many blessings. He
enjoyed the pleasant house he had given us to live in.
He received much respect and attention from all Mr.
Fletcher's friends. He saw that I had confided my happi-
ness to one most deserving. On leaving us, he and Mrs.
Brudenell took Miles with them to Tadcaster, and my
good aunt remained to be with me at my second confine-
STATE TRIALS. 69
ment, which took place on the 3 1st of October 1794, when
my eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was born.
Xot many days after her birth the newspapers were full
of the proceedings on the State trials in London the trial
of Thomas Hardy and John Home Tooke, etc. etc., for
high treason and the joyful news reached us that these
persecuted men were acquitted by a jury of their country-
men. Mr. Fletcher considered this verdict as the noblest
proof of the excellence of the British Constitution. Had
the juries of England truckled to the Tory Government of
the time, as those of Scotland had unhappily done in the
convictions of Muir, Joseph Gerald, Fysche Palmer, etc.
etc., he thought that Great Britain would not have been a
country for a free man to live in, because not one in which
a man could fearlessly avow his sentiments on political
subjects. This assertion of the right of private judgment
in matters of State policy being established by the glorious
acquittal of Hardy and Home Tooke, put hope and confi-
dence into the hearts of all true and honest reformers.
My husband read at my bedside the very interesting
details of these trials, and so highly did I sympathize in
his delight that the excitement was followed by a sharp
attack of fever, and newspapers, juries' verdicts, and all
triumphs of Liberal opinions were for a time interdicted
to the lady in the straw, who had a somewhat tedious con-
finement. I was able, however, to suckle my lovely in-
fant, as I had done her elder brother, and this privilege
was amongst my most cherished maternal duties. I was
a good nurse in the true sense of the word, never denying
my infant its natural food, night or day when called for.
I never allowed any other occupation or amusement to
interfere with this first claim of duty. My child grew
and prospered, my home was happy. Political animosity
around us was increased by the bitter disappointment of
70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the Tory party, but this never cooled the friendship be-
tween Miss Fergusson and me, and her gentle spirit was
often brave in defending me against the aspersions of poli-
tical rancour.
[It is hardly possible to credit now, save as having been
uttered in jest, the things gravely said and as gravely believed
at that time in Edinburgh concerning those who were generally
held to be on the wrong side in politics. That our mother
had provided herself with a small guillotine, and exercised the
same in beheading poultry, or perhaps " rats and mice and such
small deer," in order to be expert when " French principles,"
and practice in accordance, should prevail in our land, was one
of these. It reached our father's amazed and amused ears by
the question asked him in sad earnest by a kindly old Highland
clergyman (when in Edinburgh on the business of the General
Assembly), whether it was possible that a lady he so much
respected could be so " awfully misled" ? We can well believe
that Miss Fergusson had often to defend her friend against
grievous aspersions in those days ; but this was not the only
service gratefully numbered as fruit of the intimate communion
which then and long afterwards they enjoyed with one another.
It was from her, above all others, that our mother found the
sympathy she needed in those deep religious affections, which
were never warmer in her than in days of gladness, from her
that she most gained that living support to her Christian faith
and hope, to be had only from one whose friend-love, like all
the other blessed uses of her "charity," came "out of a pure heart
and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned." All our mother's
friends had something of a lover-like regard for her Miss
Fergusson as much of this as any for hers was a very fervent
as well as a very gentle nature. She abounded in natural,
genial sympathy ; she could, in no common sort, make all the
joys and the sorrows of friends her own ; but, as free from
vanity herself as she was free from selfishness, she never
dangerously ministered to the vanity even of those she admired
most. In later days, when our mother read those passages,
as true as they are beautiful, in which Jeremy Taylor gives his
sense of the quality and the uses of a " brave friend," it was
HOME LIFE AND HAPPINESS. 71
to this first intimate neighbour of her wedded life that she
always specially applied them. As young children, we can all
recollect being not a little jealous of Miss Fergusson. She and
our mother used to have such earnest talks often too long
ones we thought with one another, at times when we had
rather have had the companion we loved best all to ourselves ;
but very precious to us was that inherited love in after-days,
as precious as to her who counted it among her blessings to
look upon the growing and the matured friendship of her chil-
dren with one she so entirely loved and trusted.]
In the spring of 1795 our friends Mr. and Mrs. Millar
took their departure for America, banished thither by the
strong tide of Tory prejudice which ran so fiercely against
Mr. Millar. He had joined the Society of " The Friends
of the People." He lost his professional employment, and
though a most able and honourable man, was so disgusted
with the state of public affairs in Scotland that he deter-
mined to seek peace and freedom in the United States of
America. I felt Mrs. Millar's departure as a great loss.
In two years she returned a widow, and our friendship
continued till her death.
In the summer of 1795 we took our infant daughter to
see my father at Tadcaster, and stayed there till the winter
Session of that year brought us back to Edinburgh in
November. Our boy Miles seemed so essential to my
father's comfort that we consented to let the child remain
with him for the winter months. Much occupied in my
home with nursery pleasures and hopes, and taking a
strong interest in public events, my time passed on in
placid contentment. I had by no means an extensive
circle of acquaintance.
[At an after time, when our mother's circle was somewhat
large, we can all remember, even in the midst of much bright
enjoyment of society hi Edinburgh, how often she would recall
with a loving memory this quiet home season of her early
72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
wedded life. It was, she used to say, her most bright, most
satisfied, and satisfying season. She looked back to it thank-
fully, as having been then withheld from any large indulgence
in what she honestly called her "besetting sin," the love of
popularity, in the days when spirits fresh, unjaded by the
often toilsome claims of wide social intercourse, are so specially
needed, and so dearly prized, round the hearth of a young
mother's home. There she was indeed the light and the life
of our young lives. We knew that we were her joy, and we
felt that she was ours. But as all her care for us, constant
as it was, did not in the least interfere with a true wifely
sympathy in our dear father's public interests, so did neither
the one nor the other hinder her from taking to her heart and
her providing thoughts, the case of any needing help who
might come within her reach. Of silver and gold she had
indeed very little to give in those days. We have often
thought since that this must have been to her a severe form
of self-restraint in the days when strict frugality was necessary
at home, for never was there a more cheerful bestower of what
she could justly spare, and largely did she give of that earnest
sympathy which in many cases is above all other help. She
had a friend during the period of her active Edinburgh life
who ought not to be passed over, although it is difficult some-
times to select from the many of all classes who came and
went as familiar helps about our Castle Street home. We
have a feeling that the person who then went among us by the
name of "Susan the Good" was very valuable to our mother, and
acted indirectly on the minds of her children, who were often
observant and silent listeners to the conversations which took
place between them. This friend lived in a very obscure
street not far off, and for the sake of supporting her mother
(a reduced Highland lady), and assisting in the education of
her sisters, exercised the craft of dressmaking, without the
skill to do it well. Her mind was occupied with great and
good subjects and objects, such as negro emancipation and the
relief of the poor and needy, while her fingers vainly attempted
to make a good fit. To this excellent person our mother
always adhered as a dressmaker so long as it was necessary,
and their friendship lasted through life. Many were the
BENE VOLE NT I NT E RES TS. 73
interesting conversations listened to while the so-called fitting-
cm proceeded. They were both gifted talkers in their different
ways, and both were impressed with the hopeful truth of the
power of good to overcome evil. This friend was especially
useful to our mother in enabling her to find employment for
the many unfortunate persons who came under her notice. It
was some years before this that she had been led to join in a
work then first entered on by a good man named Campbell, 1
for the purpose of reclaiming some of those poor women whose
fall from woman's virtue had made them outcasts in the
saddest sense. No home of shelter and kindly instruction
had then been formed for such in Edinburgh. The one then
opened was on a very humble scale, in an obscure close of the
Old Town leading from the Nether Bow, a place unknown by
sight to the present generation, having been swept away
rightly, perhaps in the course of modern improvements ; but
poor as the asylum was, it was carefully tended, and our
mother could long afterwards recall with comfort and hope
several cases in which the work effected there had been
manifestly blessed. One history, which occurred I believe early
in my mother's married life, we have heard her relate with
peculiar satisfaction and thankfulness, and ought to be recorded
in these memorials of her life. The name of this person was
Nelly Wilson. Our mother first saw her in one of her visits
to the Infirmary to see a sick child. On her way out, she
was struck with the fine appearance of a young woman at the
door of one of the wards, dressed in a white wrapper, and she
asked the nurse who conducted her out what illness that young
person had. The nurse shook her head, saying, " Oh, mem,
she's here for an ill cause ; but she's better, and goes out to-
morrow, and back to her ill ways, nae doot." My mother
felt strongly impelled to speak to this unfortunate and erring
sister ; and having requested the nurse to allow her to do so,
they were left together in a small empty ward. She spoke all
that was in her pure and loving heart on this sad subject, but
without appearing to make the least impression on her hearer.
1 John Campbell, ironmonger, foot of the West Bow, afterwards the
Rev. John Campbell of Kingsland, London, and author of " Travels in
South Africa."
74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
She said she was herself so strongly moved that she even went
down on her knees to Nelly Wilson, imploring her to renounce
her life of sin and degradation, and go into the asylum which
she told her of, where she might find employment and support ;
but all in vain. On that day she made no impression, at least
to her own perception : the proud, bold look never relented
the manner, although not rude, remained quite hard. They
parted, and my mother lost sight of her of course. Some
months after this, late one evening, only a day or two before
a journey to Yorkshire, my mother was told a person wished
to see her. It was the nurse from the infirmary, who said
she had come by the earnest desire of Nelly Wilson, who was
again ill, and could not rest night or day without seeing the
" leddy "who had spoken to her some months before ; and,
said the nurse, in her broad Scotch, " If you'll believe me,
meni, she's no' like the same cratur ahe was ; her bolster's wet
wi' her tears, and she'll do what you bid her noo." The
"leddy" went the following morning, and found Nelly Wilson
in a loathsome state of disease, but in a broken and contrite
state of mind the stony heart had become a heart of flesh,
and she listened with eagerness to the words of hope and
warning. The poor penitent gave her solemn promise that
she would henceforth renounce the life she now loathed, and
enter the asylum as soon as she could be admitted. She
faithfully kept her promise, and ever after led a life of faith
and obedience, and assisted others to enter the same course.
Many years after this occurred, Nelly Wilson became the
object of a virtuous attachment. A respectable tradesman
asked her in marriage, but she would not consent to become
his wife until she came to my mother to request her to relate
to her lover the whole history of her former life ; that after
knowing that, if he was still disposed to make her his wife,
she felt that she could make him happy, but that she set him
entirely free to do as he felt right. The man was deeply
affected, my mother said, but so touched by Nelly's fine sense
of honour and truthfulness, that he said he loved her more
than ever. They were married, and went to live in London,
where her husband had a profitable business, and where my
mother saw her a happy wife and mother more than once
BIRTH OF SECOND DAUGHTER. 75
afterwards. This was one of the many incidents which made
her life in Edinburgh one of real missionary work, when it
might be supposed by those who saw her only in society that
that was her chief vocation. She was so little of an egotist,
that, except to those who were deeply interested in such
annals, she never introduced them ; she could not abide a
half-interest in a soul-stirring subject, and the purity of her
own nature gave her an intense feeling of the degradation of
this form of vice, and indeed for all the fallen ; she felt that
Christ's followers were especially bound to hope, and pray, and
do " what they could."]
On the 23d of May [1796] my domestic interests were
increased by the birth of a second daughter, my dear Grace,
so named after my husband's excellent mother. My good
aunt Dawson on this, as on former confinements, came to
be with me on that occasion. My infant was singularly
thriving, and at the end of a fortnight I had perfectly
recovered from my confinement. In the autumn of that
year I took our two little girls to Tadcaster. We found
our dear Miles grown in size, strength, and beauty, and
again left him to gladden the winter of the affectionate
circle at Tadcaster. He was a child of quick parts, and
of ready combinations, with a warm temper and a very
affectionate heart. He was too much an object of con-
centrated attention in his grandfather's home, and used to
say, in after-life, that his temper never recovered the
spoiling of Tadcaster. I do not remember that the winter
of 1796-7 was marked by any particular event in our
domestic history. Of my two little girls, the eldest, an
uncommonly beautiful child, was of a hasty temper, but
truthful in a remarkable degree, and quick of apprehen-
sion. The second was less attractive in appearance, but
gentle, reflecting, and exceedingly affectionate and un-
selfish. Again we took them to my father's house in the
summer of 1797. He had begun to perceive that our boy
76 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
Miles, then five years old, required more discipline than
he had resolution to enforce, and proposed that we should
take him back to Edinburgh with us. The parting scene
I never shall forget. The child shrieking and clinging to
his grandfather's knees, the old man sobbing with grief,
and yet insisting that he should go, since it was for his
good. He was carried by main force to the carriage, an
unwilling prisoner in the custody of his parents, his
heart knit to the friends he had left. The sorrows of a
child have been aptly compared to April showers, but this
sad scene made me feel, more than ever, the evil of being
so far separated from the home of my youth.
On the 8th of January 1798 I was blessed with an-
other daughter. "VVe called her Margaret, after our kind
and affectionate friend Mrs. Brudenell, with whom she be-
came an especial favourite, having, as she said, the dark
eyes of my mother.
It was in March 1798 that I prevailed on several ladies
of my acquaintance to join me in the institution of a
Female Benefit Society in Edinburgh, and after much
difficulty and opposition this club was established for the
relief of maid-servants and other poor women in sickness.
Such institutions among men had long been in operation
in Scotland, but this was the first Female Benefit Society
attempted, and as all innovations at that time were looked
upon with suspicion, and especially where ladies suspected
of democratic principles were concerned, this poor " sick
club " was vehemently opposed by the constituted authori-
ties, namely, the Deputy Sheriff and the Magistrates,
when these were legally applied to, to sanction the rules
of the Society. I mention this to mark the spirit of the
time at that period in Edinburgh, both as regards politics,
and with regard to the condition of women. For ladies
to take any share, especially a leading share, in the
BENEFIT SOCIETY. 77
management of a public institution, was considered so
novel and extraordinary a proceeding as ought not to be
countenanced. This " Female Friendly Society " has how-
ever been in operation now in Edinburgh for forty-six
years, the late Miss Wilson (of Howden), my much-valued
friend, having kept the accounts with such accuracy that
it has been considered a model for other Societies of like
kind to form their rules upon, and to conduct their
establishments. It has by the blessing of God relieved
much distress, and has been the means of doing good to
working people, mainly at their own expense, thereby
cultivating habits of forethought and economy, as well as
attention to good morals in other respects.
In the autumn of 1798 we had distressing accounts of
my dear father's increasing infirmities, and Mr. Fletcher
and I resolved to take our little son Miles to see him.
Dropsical symptoms had begun to appear ; his breathing
was much affected, but he was not too ill to be cheered by
our visit, and especially by the sight of his darling boy,
now six years old, and, for that age, most companionable.
We remained till the middle of October, and the parting
was sad indeed, for it was without the hope of meeting
again in this world. But our visit had soothed some
hours of languor, and had cherished warm feelings of
affection. In less than a month after we parted, my dear
father was released from his sufferings. A man of more
sterling worth of character I have never known, or one of
higher principles of truth and honour. He had great
natural quickness of parts, a liberal heart, and a most
happy temper, diffusing cheerfulness wherever he went.
When he lost my mother, his strongest affections became
concentrated in me ; and though nothing could exceed the
happiness of my married life, I often marvelled at myself
for having left such a father.
78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[We can remember how, for many years after this bereave-
ment, our dear mother, on her birthday (though she always
tried to make it the bright holiday looked forward to by us)
used to take out some memorials of her old home and weep
over them. We did not, in those young child days, well
understand " why mamma always cried on her birthday
morning." We do quite understand it now.]
In the summer of 1799, during the vacation of the
Courts, Mr. Fletcher's health, as well as my own, seeming
to require change of air, we repaired with our children to
a very inexpensive cottage, in the Morningside district to
the south of Edinburgh, called "Egypt" (so named in
memory of a gipsy colony who, as tradition said, had
made their head-quarters in its immediate " whereabouts,"
by virtue of a grant of land given to them there by one of
the Scottish kings). It was the first time that we could
afford ourselves the luxury of a country house, and we
enjoyed it greatly, seeing how much it promoted the
health and happiness of our children. Our friend Mrs.
Millar had by that time returned from America, a widow,
with all her hopes and prospects blighted. She came to
visit us at " Egypt," and interested us much by her ani-
mated and graphic descriptions of America, and of men
and manners in the United States. She had often seen
and conversed with the greatest man of his age, General
"Washington, Philadelphia being then the seat of the Federal
Government. She described his demeanour as calm, mild,
and dignified, and his domestic character as excellent. I
should not omit to record that it was in the latter part of
this summer, when we were living very quietly at our
country house, that my dear friend Miss Fergusson, and
her very agreeable sister Ann, brought me to read, for the
first time, Wordsworth's " Lyrical Ballads." Never shall
I forget the charm I found in these poems. It was like
WORDSWORTH'S POEMS. 79
a new era in my existence. They were in my waking
thoughts day and night. They had to me all the vivid
effects of the finest pictures, with the enchantment of the
sweetest music, and they did much to tranquillize and
strengthen my heart and mind, which bodily indisposition
had somewhat weakened. My favourites were the "Lines on
Tintern Abbey," the " Lines left on a Yew Tree at Esthwaite
Lake," " The Brothers," and " Old Michael," and I taught
my children to recite " We are Seven," and several others.
In September of 1799, Mr. Fletcher and I returned to
20 Queen Street, leaving our children under the care of
Miss Fletcher of Dunans. We were joined by dear aunt
Dawson, and our good friend Mrs. Brudenell, the latter,
however, preferring to remain in the country with the
children. On the 6th of October I was confined of my
youngest son Angus, my aunt cheering and attending my
sick-bed, as she had affectionately done four times before
under the like circumstances.
In the spring of 1801 I accompanied Mr. Fletcher to
London, leaving our children under the care of Miss Deas,
a respectable nursery-governess, with a promise from my
kind and faithful friend Miss Wilson, that she would see
them daily, and report progress frequently. This, my
first expedition to London, was partly one of business,
partly of curiosity to see the great city. We were in
lodgings in Albemarle Street, and made good use of our
time in seeing all the sights and the distinguished people
that were within our reach. It was then I first became
acquainted with Joanna Baillie and with Mrs. Barbauld.
Miss Millar (a kind friend then and always) introduced me
to the former; Lord Buchan gave me a letter to Mrs.
Barbauld. I was taken by Dr. and Mrs. Baillie to Hamp-
stead to see the gifted Joanna. I found her on a Sunday
morning reading the Bible to her mother, a very aged lady,
80 A UTOBIO GRAPH 'Y.
who was quite blind. Joanna's manners and accent were
very Scottish, very kind, simple, and unaffected, but less
frank than those of her elder sister. She seemed almost
studiously to avoid literary conversation, but spoke with
much interest of old Scotch friends, and of her early days
in Scotland. I was much interested in her, having but a
short time before read her " Plays on the Passions " with
deep interest.
With the brilliancy and power of Mrs. Barbauld's con-
versational talents my husband and I were greatly
delighted. She took the same views that we did on public
affairs, and had felt deeply, as we had done, disappoint-
ment in the disastrous turn of the French Revolution.
We saw Mr. Barbauld also, and thought him remarkably
intelligent and agreeable. We visited my quondam friend
Mr. Woodison, whose introduction to me in 1789 by our
mutual friend Mr. Cartwright I have already mentioned,
and who still honoured me with his esteem and friendship.
He lived in a small house in Chancery Lane, where his
mother had lived for many years along with him, and
where she had died a short time before. Mr. Fletcher had
at this time some interviews with his political friend Mr.
Sheridan, whom, however, I did not see.
I well remember after the fatigues of sight-seeing the
pleasure and refreshment I had at our lodgings in reading
Miss Edgeworth's admirable novel, " Belinda " some of
the hours so spent were among the pleasantest of our
London visit. We were happy to return to our home and
to our children, after passing a few days with our friends
at Tadcaster on our way.
In the October of this year, our dear Miles, then nine
years of age, went to the High School. I well remember
his bright, animated face, in returning home in the frosty
days of winter, without any great aspirations after scholar-
HOME INTERESTS. 81
ship however, but exhilarated by the enjoyment of mixing
with many play-fellows. In the May of the year following
(1802) our home happiness was increased by the birth of
our youngest daughter Mary. She was a beautiful infant,
with bright large eyes and curly brown hair. On the
fourth or fifth day after Mary was born, I became very
feverish and unwell : my milk left me, and my distress in
not being able to nurse this dear infant, as I had nursed
my other children, was unreasonable. We procured a wet-
nurse, a respectable married woman, whose husband was at
sea ; and when we removed to Dalmeny for country air and
quiet, a month after my confinement, we had the nurse's
child lodged in the village that the mother might see it
daily, and feel satisfied that it was taken care of. My
dear aunt remained with us till I was quite strong, and
then took dear Bessy, our eldest daughter, back with her
to Tadcaster. Our summer at Dalmeny was a very
pleasant one, spent in a cottage, which was small and
homely, as suited our fortunes. After our eldest boy's
return to school to Edinburgh, Grace, Margaret, Angus,
and the infant Mary, formed our little household ; and it
was this summer, when Grace was the eldest of the young
party, that I observed her mind to take a spring of advance-
ment which quite surprised me. It was here, too, that I
observed good promise of strength in little Margaret's
character. Being one day hurt by a fall out of doors, she
came home, and, without alarming me, quietly put herself
to bed. When I looked for her, on hearing of the acci-
dent, an hour afterwards, I found her fast asleep. She rose
no worse for the misadventure.
After a year's experience of the High School for our
dear Miles, we found that the dissipations of idleness in a
large companionship were too strong for his power of
resistance. Some misleading school friends, and some
F
82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
evasions of truth, made us decide before the close of this
year on removing him, to be placed under the private
tuition of a respectable clergyman, the Rev. "William
Thomson, at the manse of Dalzell, near Hamilton. His
new master had not above six little boys to look after, and
he performed his duty conscientiously, so that we had
reason to be satisfied with the step we had taken.
The latter part of the year 1802 was interesting to us
in a public way by the commencement of the Edinburgh
Review. We were fortunate enough to be acquainted
more or less intimately with several of the earliest con-
tributors, Mr. (now Lord) Brougham, Mr. Jeffrey, Dr. John
Thomson, Mr. John Allen, Francis Horner, and James
Grahame, the author of " The Sabbath." James Grahame
was a much-valued friend. He united to a highly refined
and cultivated taste much general information, a very
sincere and elevated piety, and the greatest simplicity of
manners. I, who knew Edinburgh both before and after
the appearance of the Edinburgh Review, can bear witness
to the electrical effects of its publication on the public
mind, and to the large and good results in a political
sense that followed its circulation. The authorship of the
different articles was discussed at every dinner-table, and
I recollect a table-talk occurrence at our house Avhich
must have belonged to this year. Mr. Fletcher, though
not himself given to scientific inquiry or interests, had been
so much struck with the logical and general ability dis-
played in an article of the young Review on Professor
Black's Chemistry, that in the midst of a few guests, of
whom Henry Brougham was one, he expressed an opinion
(while in entire ignorance as to the authorship) to the
effect that the man who wrote that article might do or be
anything he pleases. Mr. Brougham, who was seated near
me at table, stretched eagerly forward and said, " What,
EDINBURGH SOCIETY. S3
Mr. Fletcher, be anything 1 May he be Lord Chancellor ?"
On which my husband repeated his words with emphasis,
"Yes, Lord Chancellor, or anything he desires." This
opinion seems to confirm Lord Cockburn's words in another
place concerning the young Henry Brougham of the Specu-
lative Society, that he even then " scented his quarry from
afar."
James Grahame, the gentle poet of " The Sabbath," and
" The Birds of Scotland," was so susceptible of the tender
passion that he fell in love at first sight with a young lady
whom he saw first ringing at our door, then No. 20 Queen
Street. He came in a little afterwards, and asked me many
questions about the dark-eyed beauty, who, he said, had
cast the glamour " owre him." I invited him to meet her ;
she completed her conquest, and at the end of two months
they were married. It was about this time our excellent
friend Dr. Anderson brought Thomas Campbell to our
house, and a firm friendship between us was formed, which
stood the test of time and London, and fame, on his part
to the close of his life. I have often lectured him, and
made him angry, but he never wavered in his friendship.
Life at this time glided on with us calmly and satisfac-
torily. My husband's professional emoluments, though
very moderate, were amply sufficient for us, combined with
my inheritance from my father's property which was left
to me in liferent, and was entailed on our children. We
had no vanity to lead us into expense, our circle of ac-
quaintance was very limited, consisting chiefly of old pro-
fessional friends of Mr. Fletcher, their wives and families,
with occasional gleams of more literary and distinguished
persons. Of these was the Hon. Henry Erskine, whose
wit, and whose graces of mind and manners, placed him
at the head of good society in Edinburgh, while he was
confessedly the honoured leader of the Liberal or Whig
84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
party. I do not remember to have had any stirrings of
worldly vanity or ambition. My delight in feeling that
my sympathy in my husband's public feelings contributed
much to his happiness, and my just pride in the lofty
integrity of his character, and the affectionate kindness of
his heart towards me and our children, formed my happi-
ness. These children, too, were my " mirth and matter."
I was wrapped up in them, and though I never could
command the patience that qualified me to be their teacher,
I delighted in making them my happy and confidential
companions. I seldom required to use any other punish-
ment for their offences than exiling them from the sitting-
room, and they became very contrite in the nursery. My
principle of education was sympathy, and truthfulness in
my dealings with them.
In the spring of the year 1803 our kind friend Mrs.
Brudenell came to see us, accompanied by Mrs. Laycock.
We had great pleasure in showing them all that was worth
seeing in Edinburgh, and Mrs. Brudenell afterwards went
with Mr. Fletcher to see a small property in Stirlingshire
Park Hall which he wished to purchase. Their excur-
sion extended to the house of Mr. Stewart of Garth, in
Perthshire, where Mrs. Brudenell was delighted with the
beauties of Highland scenery, and with the kindness and
hospitality she met with. It was on her return home
after this visit to us, and while at the house of her old
friends Mr. and Mrs. Wilkie of Foulden, in Northumber-
land, that I received alarming accounts from Mrs. Wilkie of
Mrs. Brudenell's dangerous illness. I should immediately
have gone to my kind old friend, but at that very time
our eldest little girl was taken ill of fever, so ill that I
could not leave home. I thought it a hard trial, but it was
afterwards matter of thankfulness to me that I could not
be suspected of having influenced Mrs. Brudenell's mind
MRS. BRUDENELL. 85
in the disposition of her affairs at that time. It was
when she was alone in a sick- chamber, at a distance from
us, that she reflected how she owed all the happiness and
protection she had sought since her separation from her
husband to my father and his family ; that she had no
connexions by her father's side, and that her mother's
relations had never shown her any affectionate considera-
tion or regard. It was from the force of these reflections,
operating on a grateful heart, that she determined to leave
the bulk of her fortune to the daughter of her earliest and
dearest friend, my mother, and to testify her gratitude to
my father for all his kindness. I believe that her affection
for me personally was very great, but I always thought that
it was as my father's and mother's child she left me her
estate at Hebburn. She happily recovered from this ill-
ness, and the next summer she and my uncle and aunt
brought our dear Miles (who had then been placed at school
at Thorp Arch, near Tadcaster) to spend the midsummer
holidays with us. We had then (June 1804) removed
from Queen Street to No. 51 North Castle Street, for the
sake of additional house-room, and a larger back green
as playground for the children. For their home instruc-
tion I had then engaged a governess, Miss Rattray, strongly
recommended to me by Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, who
about this time established herself in Edinburgh. I was
introduced to her by our friend Hector Macneil, 1 and
soon found in her a warmly-attached friend. She was a
woman of liberal mind, with much cultivation, with very
considerable liveliness and quickness of apprehension, with
great kindness of heart.
In the same summer, and before they left us, Mrs.
Brudenell heard of the death of her most unworthy hus-
1 Author of the well-known ballad, " Scotland's Skaith," a poem worthy
of all circulation, and of some other poems of merit.
56 A UTOBIO GRAPH Y.
band. She put on no mourning, she affected no grief, but
she was greatly agitated, and deeply concerned to know
that his last illness had given him time for reflection, in
the hope that at the eleventh hour he had been enabled to
make his peace with God. By his death she became pos-
sessed of her hereditary estate of Hebburn, in Northumber-
land ; and, at her earnest desire, Mr. Fletcher and I ac-
companied her to take possession of it. I think one of the
most melancholy days of my life was that on which I ac-
companied this once gay and light-hearted woman to the
hills and ruined castle of her ancestors (the charter of the
estate had been granted to them in the time of King John).
She who in her youth had bounded over those fields the
heiress of a fair domain, full of life, hope, and promise,
now, at the age of 66, came back a shattered, feeble old
woman, without strength or spirit to enjoy the goods of
fortune. She felt this incapacity of enjoyment with an
intensity proportioned to the exquisite pleasure she would
have had in being able to exercise hospitality, and to
spread cheerfulness around her. Now she felt that it was
all she could do to prolong a feeble existence. With
this view she determined on spending the following
winter at Bath, in the hope that a southern climate might
do her good.
In the winters of 1805 and 1806 I had much agreeable
intercourse with Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, at whose house
I met with a greater variety of people than I had yet mixed
with. She did much to clear my reputation from the poli-
tical prejudice which had, during the first ten years of my
life in Edinburgh, attached to all who were not of the Pitt
and Dundas faction there. She had good success in per-
suading her friends that Mrs. Fletcher was not the ferocious
Democrat she had been represented, and that she neither
had the model of a guillotine in her possession nor carried
a dagger under her cloak.
PUBLIC AND PRIVATE GOOD. 87
In January 1806 Mr. Pitt died. It was said that the
battle of Austerlitz killed him. Mr. Fox was " sent for "
to form a ministry. His health had become infirm, but he
accepted the foreign department, with two purposes very
near his heart, to make peace with France, and to abolish
the slave-trade. He tried to accomplish the first of these
objects by sending Lord Lauderdale to Paris to treat for
peace ; but the terms insisted on by Napoleon were such
as could not be granted without loss of national honour to
England. The ambassador was recalled, and all parties
were united in prosecuting the war, confident that a Whig
Cabinet would take the first opportunity of bringing it to
an honourable conclusion. The second great object of Mr.
Fox was most happily accomplished, the abolition of the
slave-trade. Mr. Wilberforce had laboured in Parliament,
and Mr. Clarkson out of it, with untiring perseverance to
accomplish this great measure ; but even with Mr. Pitt's
professed approval of the principle of abolition, the Eoyal
Family and Mr. Duudas had overruled the Premier on
that one point. It was reserved for the Whig Administra-
tion of 1806-7 to have the glory and the happiness of put-
ting an end to the British trade in slaves.
In the summer of 1806, Mrs. Brudenell, always, even in
her days of poverty, a " deviser of liberal things," carried
out a long-cherished purpose of bringing together the
friends for whom love and gratitude were warmest in her
heart, to spend a few months round her in the district of
England's mountain beauty. She engaged a house of ample
size Belmont, near Hawkshead, in Westmoreland to
which we from Edinburgh repaired early in June, Mrs.
Brudenell joining us from Bath also very soon after, and
Mr. Fletcher when the rising of the Law Courts in Edin-
burgh set him free. The good uncle and aunt Dawson,
from Tadcaster, came to us, with Miles in their company,
as soon as his midsummer holidays began.
SS AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[To our dear mother and to us this was indeed a summer
of new, bright, and busy enjoyment " It was," as. she has
written, " the first time that my children expressed any great
pleasure in natural beauty. They had what they called a care
in a bit of rocky copse-wood behind the house, where they
carried on all manner of rural devices when iliss Rattray's
stern school hours were over." Our mother understood too
well the true child way of being happy to disturb our pleasures
near the home doors, by expecting us to delight as she did in
the wider scenes beyond. A large July sheep-shearing held at
the Tew Tree Farm, a statesman's dwelling near at hand, was
however a pleasure quite as much to her taste as to ours. We
had our family picnics too, now and then to Coniston on the
one side and to Windermere on the other, and to a little tarn
which lay between Belmont and the latter, where we first saw
the water-lily, and also the yellow poppy growing wild on its
shore. But generally we were better pleased to keep to our
devices about the cave, sure of our mother's abundant sympathy
in them always, and of her bright company often, at the little
fruit feasts we used to get up there, or in a stone- built summer-
house of the old-fashioned kitchen and orchard garden, which
last made no small part of this summer's felicity to us. Her
eldest boy Miles was always ready to mount a white pony pre-
sented to him here, and called " Belmont " in honour of these
happy holidays, and to canter off in any direction along with
her for riding's sake. Our mother possessed no proper lady's
palfrey either then or at any time of her wedded life, but she
had nowise lost her early courage and skill on horseback. It
was a delight to her to return to the favourite exercise of her
youth, and, quite indifferent to appearances, she mounted any
available steed that was to be found at the near farms, the
variety and quality of her stud giving no small amusement to
the neighbours whom in her day's ride she visited.' Of these
the nearest were the Harden family at Brathay Hall on Win-
dermere side, friends whose kind intimacy we have all in-
herited. Mr. Harden, a true lover of nature, and well accom-
plished as an amateur artist, was attractive to neighbours of
all ranks and ages from the genuine and genial kindliness
of his nature. Mr. Lloyd and his family then lived at Old
WORDSWORTH. 80
Brathay, also near us. Charles Lloyd was known beyond the
Lake district aa the author of some aonneta of poetic worth, and
he waa much beloved in and about his home from the gentle
social qualities so fully inherited by and so dearly prized in
his son Owen. 1 A little more distant lay the abode of Dr.
Watson, then Bishop of LJandaff, but who still made Calgarth
on Windennere side his ordinary residence with his family.
Lower down the lake, Fellfoot, then the property of Mr. Dixon,
waa a house of much social resort, and always, as our mother
found, of pleasant intercourse, Mrs. Dixon having an intelli-
gent taste for bringing round her persona by cultivation, or
pursuits, companionable to her and to one another. Our
mother had always much to tell ua on her return from the
boating parties or indoor hospitalities of Fellfoot. Words-
worth's dwelling in Grasmere was somewhat too distant for
frequent intercourse, but an introduction to him was no com-
mon event, and a day's visit from him at Belmont waa among
the very " white days " of this pleasant time. Our mother
had, as she has herself told, led us all to share with her, so far
as might be, in the good, and the enjoyment of his verse.
She used to record with pleasure that her younger son, Angus,
not then above six years old, marked his interest in the poet's
deep, sonorous recitation of his " Lines to the Spade of a
Friend," by coming close to her ear, and saying, in an earnest
whisper, '* Do ask him to say it again." Wordsworth's im-
pressive " Lines on the Expected Death of Fox," which belong
to this summer, show that one subject of very deep interest
common to him, and to both our parents, would not then have
been wanting to the increase of intimacy if their neighbour-
hood had been nearer. We can all remember the saddening
etfect, on our dear father especially, when the tidings came
that Fox was indeed gone, and at the very time when his
country seemed to need him most. His " public passion " (an
expression our father often used in speaking of him) had, in
the feelings of those to whom his name had long been the
1 Afterwards the pastor of Langdale, early taken thence by illness and
death, but still well and affectionately remembered. His remains, brought
to Langdale from the place at some distance where he died, rest under
a yew-tree in the churchyard of the vale.
90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
symbol of enlightened patriotism, redeemed in some degree the
errors of his private life. Our mother has, in writing of his
death, truly said " The warm generosity of his heart, and the
genial sweetness of his temper, left him without one private
enemy." A few days after his death, she adds " We dined
at Calgarth (the Bishop of Llandaff 's), when he, who had been
the personal friend of Fox, on drinking to his memory after
dinner, pronounced a very true and eloquent eulogium on his
character."
Of another neighbour of this summer an object of warm
interest to her for many after-years our mother thus writes :
" It was then I first became acquainted with Mrs. Smith of
Coniston. She visited me in compliance with her daughter
Mrs. Allan's request, but under the impression that she would
find me a violent Democrat, and distasteful accordingly.
However, it so happened that, bating the Democracy, we
became great friends. She loved me in spite of my politics,
and I both admired and loved her for the high principles of
rectitude and honour which had supported her through many
trials ; while the gracefulness of her manners, and the spirit
and vivacity of her conversation, were most engaging to me.
She lost her daughter, Elizabeth Smith, this summer. We
were engaged to pass some morning hours with them 1 the
very week before her death ; but she became worse, and the
visit was deferred. Elizabeth Smith died, and when we heard
from Hawkshead church-tower the sound of her death-bell,
we regretted that we had not seen one who seemed to have
lived so much with God."]
Mrs. Brudenell remained some weeks at Belmont after
my uncle and aunt left us. We accompanied her (on her
way to rejoin them) as far as the town of Settle, and there
1 The residence of Mrs. Smith at the time mentioned above was a small
cottage by the road-side, near the gate of Tent Lodge, her well-known
home in after years, on the banks of Coniston Lake. It was built soon
after Elizabeth Smith's death, on a spot greatly delighted in by her, and
where a tent had been pitched during her illness, in which was often her
morning sitting-room, commanding (as the house raised " in memoriam"
now does) one of the finest views in the Lake district.
MRS. BRUDEN'ELL. 91
I parted for the last time with my mother's earliest friend,
and one who certainly had a considerable influence in the
formation of my character. She had a high moral stan-
dard ; and though there were many inconsistencies in her
character, the generosity of her heart and the truthfulness
of her gratitude were the prominent qualities that made an
impression on me. She was full of sympathy, a most en-
gaging quality to the young. She cultivated my taste for
reading, as well as taught me to read in her little cottage
at Oxton ; and her sensibilities did not evaporate in senti-
ment. She was a kindly friend to the poor, and by example
impressed upon me early the force of a very favourite pas-
sage of hers from Beattie's " Minstrel "
" And from the prayer of want, and plaint of woe,
Oh ! never, never turn away thine ear ;
Forlorn in this bleak wilderness below,
Oh ! what were man should Heaven refuse to hear ! "
We all returned to Edinburgh in the October of this
year, and Mrs. Brudenell died at Tadcaster in the December
following. My uncle and aunt followed her remains to
Hougham Church, in Lincolnshire, where she was buried
in the chancel, between the graves of her two children,
according to her expressed desire. She left me her family
estate of Hebburn, subject to the debts and legacies speci-
fied in her will. This was a considerable accession of for-
tune, at a time when the education of our children made
such increase important.
[Aunt Mai-y HilFs wise views on Education.
" GRANGE, October 1807.
" MY DEAR NIECE, I am very glad that you intend Grace
should have her full swing (excuse the vulgarism) in reading.
I know a very superior woman who laments to this day the
starvation her mind underwent from the person under whose
92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
care she was placed, being possessed by the ill-founded preju-
dice that a literary turn tends to give a disrelish for domestic
duties.
" Grace has interested us all very much with her account
of Angus and Mary's little cave, and the full enjoyment they
found in it. I wish you could convince Miss R , and all
the friends to artificial and premature instruction, that one
hour in this cave, employed in their own way, will strengthen
their faculties and invigorate their minds more than twenty
lessons. These good folks never consider that when the
faculties of children are exercised with most pleasure to them-
selves, they are receiving their best lessons, and that God Him-
self is their Teacher."]
Our winter of this year was unmarked by any domestic
event except Miles's entrance on the classes of the Edinburgh
College. My daughters went on with their school-room
education under Miss Itattray's tuition. And here I must
enter my protest against any one's continuing to tolerate
such faults in a governess as may interfere with the happi-
ness of children. Miss Eattray was truthful, pious, con-
siderate of the poor, and very industrious ; but she had a
sternness and want of sympathy, a harshness of nature which
made the school-room irksome, and which was alike un-
favourable to the temper and to the happiness of the chil-
dren. It was a great mistake to inflict on them this
unnecessary discipline, and I have often bitterly regretted
it. It was my custom then (not a very common one with
Edinburgh ladies) to walk with the children before break-
fast, they taking their little tins to get milk at a dairy-
woman's field on the Queensferry Eoad. I liked to
cultivate in them an early taste for simple habits and
simple pleasures. These morning walks in spring were an
emancipation from school-room rigidity, which they and I
enjoyed together exceedingly.
In the summer and autumn of this year we all spent
LORD TANKERVILLE. 93
some months at Hebburn. Our kind old friend Miss
Forster exerted herself to get the house there furnished for
our use; and though it was small little more, indeed,
than a shooting lodge, built by Mr. Brudenell for his own
use, and therefore by no means convenient for a large
family these months were spent by us very happily.
Two Shetland ponies of small dimensions, whose arrival
was a great event amongst us, gave our younger children
their first experiences on horseback, and I often availed
myself of Miss Forster's kindness by trotting over to her
house at Bolton, a few miles distant, on the horse and
pillion which she sent for me. Old Lord Tankerville spent
that summer, as his wont was, at his baronial residence,
Chillingham Castle, not far off, and, with his daughter,
Lady Mary Bennet, had the courtesy to call upon us, and
to invite Mr. Fletcher and me frequently to dinner. He
was a fine specimen of the old English aristocrat, punc-
tilious in the observance of courteous manners, strong in
his regard for constitutional Whig principles. With this
bond between them, Mr. Fletcher and he became good
friends. He had that summer, for the first time, overcome
a strong reluctance to the marriage of his eldest son, so as
to receive Lord Ossulston and his beautiful young wife at
Chillingham Castle. This was done at the dying request
of a favourite daughter : and his heart was softened and
his happiness increased by it. He told me that he had
disapproved of his son's marriage, not because his wife was
a foreigner and without fortune, but because she had been
educated amidst all the dissipation of Devonshire House,
which he feared might make the union fatal to his son's
happiness. 1 Another baronial Castle that of Alnwick
1 Tliis Earl of Tankerville purchased in the year 1817 the estate of Heb-
burn, which adjoined his own estate of Chillingham, and added the wild
part of Hebburn to his range for the celebrated white cattle.
94 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
we were introduced to this summer, by Mr. Burrell of
Broom Park. 1 It was worth seeing for once the stately
remains of ancient hospitality at the castle of the Percys.
At that time, when the Duke of Northumberland was
present there, a flag was every Thursday unfurled on its
highest tower, as an invitation to any who had been pre-
viously introduced to come and dine there. The gentry
of the county did not sligh't this invitation. About forty
guests sat down to table on the day we dined there. On
entering the dining-room, Miss Forster pointed to me
where I should sit next to a vacant space. The old
Duke was presently wheeled into the room, and his chair
filled that space ; so I had much of his discourse during
dinner : it was lively, courteous, and good-humoured. He
spoke, but not tediously, of his infirmity from gout ; he
had tried, he said, every remedy for it, as he believed,
except one, which, in the case of a friend of his, . proved
efficacious, viz., the bastinado. This had been applied
to his friend when travelling in Turkey, and disabled by
gout from descending from his palanquin to pay the re-
quired homage to the Grand Vizier, and it actually cured
him!
[The Hebburn summer had by- no means the charm that
belonged to our Westmoreland sojourn of the year before ; but
it was a happy one, as our mother has said (for country life
was in itself enjoyment), and for us children it had its bright
days of adventure, too, out of the common course, one especially
an expedition taken in a cart, with well-filled provision
baskets for the day, the elders of the family party riding on
horseback along by our side, all save aunt Dawson, who jolted
along amongst us, leading the tune and words of the " Jolly
Beggars " and other old ditties, given forth in full, if not
1 A sister of Miss Forster, and, like her, one of our mother's early school-
fellows at the Manor, York, was the wife of this gentleman.
VISIT TO BAMBOROUGH CASTLE AND CONVENT. 95
harmonious, chorus by all round her, to beguile the long
morning's journey to Bamborough Castle. Our first sight of
this fine old place when we reached it the flash of the blue
sea, and the rush of its white foam as the waves broke on the
rocks under the Castle at full tide, and the long stretch of
white sand and shingle which, at its ebb, lay between Bam-
borough and Lindisfarne, " The Holy Isle " of St. Cuthbert,
are not forgotten by us now ; the less so, that the memories
of this day as to scenery were richly brought back a few years
afterwards by the vigorous poetic pictures of Scott in the
finest canto of his " Marmion."
In another excursion, one more soberly conducted, we also
accompanied our parents to Haggerston Hall, then occupied
as a nunnery, having been granted as a house of refuge by Sir
Carnaby Haggerston, an ancient Baronet " of that ilk," to
some French nuns who had been dragged from their convent,
and for some time imprisoned in Paris during the Reign of
Terror. They told us, but with no bitterness, simply as a
matter of history, that it was only the death of Robespierre
that saved them from being victims of the guillotine them-
selves. After their arrival in England, and their establish-
ment at the place where we found them, a Highland cousin
of our father, one of the Miss Fletchers of Dunans, had taken
the vows and joined their community. She was permitted by
the Abbess mother to see her kinsman and give kindly welcome
to our mother and us for his sake. She had preserved a token
of him (whether of familiar kindness or something tenderer we
know not) a Latin motto in praise of friendship which, as
she reminded him, he had given to her when they met last,
or rather parted, after crossing a burn (for she noted the time
and place) near her father's house. There was no reserve
in showing this to him, which she drew forth from an em-
broidered pocket-book, and we thought the sisters looked on
very benevolently as she did so. We often recalled this
visit to our Catholic cousin and the good sisterhood with
pleasure.
Of other matters at Hebburn, and other interests in which
our dear mother led us cordially to share, the following letter
to a much-valued friend speaks in her own words :
96 A U TO BIO GRA PHY,
To Mrs. Stark.
" HEBBURN HOUSE, NEAR BELFORD,
NORTHUMBERLAND, July 26th, 1807.
" The kind wish you expressed to hear from me, my dear Mrs.
Stark, was too gratifying to be for a single day forgotten,
although a fortnight has passed away since we arrived here.
I wished, however, to be able to tell you how we liked our
dwelling and all its accompaniments. Fate (as if to punish
me for coveting your sequestered cottage) has placed us in a
house at the summit of a bleak, bare hill. It was built by the
late Mr. Brudenell, who pulled down an old baronial castle
which ' time had spared,' and fixed upon precisely the only
part of the estate which affords a prospect utterly devoid of
picturesque beauty. The Cheviot Hills form our boundary to
the south-west, and we hope it is no treason against the Epic
Muse, if we rejoice that this far-famed scene of martial prowess
is now covered with bleating flocks and peaceful shepherds.
The peasantry of this country are not less simple, though they
are far less independent, than those of Westmoreland : we
have none of that erect deportment and that proud civility we
used to meet with in our wanderings last summer, when we
were obliged to ask permission of the statesmen (ploughing their
own fields) to walk through them. Here property is in the
hands of the few rich. The country is thinly inhabited ; the
farms are extensive ; and the cotter's hold of the farmer (not
the proprietor) is a sort of feudal heritage. His cottage, cows,
grass, potato crop, and some bolls of corn are given him in
exchange for his labour. His wife, or some one member of the
family, is obliged to work at fixed wages for the farmer the
year round. This is called working bondage, and it is felt as
a great grievance by the people ; but it is an ancient custom in
Northumberland, and though attended with personal grudging
and private feelings of oppression, which never fail to hurt the
character, it secures the cottager's family a maintenance, and
there seems to be little abject poverty or wretchedness in our
villages. The village of Hebburn is a short mile from us.
There has not been a school there in the memory of man.
Last Sunday we assembled about twenty children in the remains
MR. ROSCOE, LIVERPOOL. 97
of the old castle, read a little appropriate address to them, and
prevailed on them to accompany us to church, about a mile
distant from the village. They had never been in any place
of worship. Their parents were chiefly Dissenters, and their
chapels and tabernacles were many miles distant, too far for the
children to travel barefooted ; so they were suffered to run
wild on Sunday. I was much pleased with the liberality of
the parents ; there was no bigotry among them, for, though of
many different persuasions, they all willingly sent their chil-
dren to accompany us to the nearest place of worship. The
children on their part were delighted ; most of them could
read ; and we agreed that ' the Sermon on the Mount ' was
good for us all. You would have been pleased, my dear Mrs.
Stark, to have seen how earnestly my children took a part in
this interesting project. Much did I wish for three or four
whom I could name to have enjoyed it with us, and, believe
me, you were among the number. You perceive that, notwith-
standing the bleak, bare hill, we shall contrive to be very
happy. You will not, I am sure, refuse your contribution to
make us so ; do let me hear from you."]
From Tadcaster, in the course of the summer 1808, our
eldest girl, Bessy, and I went to visit an old friend Miss
Kennedy in the neighbourhood of Manchester, and she
made us acquainted with the family of Mr. Greg at Quarry
Bank. We stayed a week with them, and admired the
cultivation of mind and refinement of manners which Mrs.
Greg preserved in the midst of a money-making and some-
what unpolished community of merchants and manufacturers.
Mr. Greg, too, was most gentlemanly and hospitable, and
surrounded by eleven clever and well-educated children.
Ithought them the happiest family group I had ever seen.
Miss Kennedy also took me to visit her friends, the Rath-
bone family, at Green Bank, near Liverpool, and we there
met Mr. Roscoe, the elegant- minded author of the " Life of
Lorenzo de' Medici." Mr. Roscoe took us to his beautiful
98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
residence at Ollerton Hall, and charmed us by the good taste
of his varied and agreeable powers of conversation. He
had been returned member for Liverpool during the Whig
Ministry of 180 6, and both he and Mr.Rathbone had taken a
decided part in the cause of the abolition of the slave-trade.
We were taken to see the last ship which had sailed from the
port of Liverpool for trade in human beings. It was then
undergoing a change for the stowage of other goods than
those wretched negroes who had formerly been crammed
in the space between-decks not more than four feet high.
The iron hooks remained to which they had been chained.
It was a sickening sight, but those chains were broken.
We stayed some days at Green Bank, where we enjoyed the
society of the venerable William Rathbone, the zealous
friend of civil and religious liberty. It was he, and Mr.
Roscoe, and Dr. Currie, who by their personal influence
and exertions established the first literary and philoso-
phical society at Liverpool, and induced their fellow-towns-
men to think and feel that there were other objects besides
making money which ought to occupy the time and
thoughts of reasonable beings.
For the summer of 1810 we took a pleasant country house,
Frankfield by name, about a mile above Lasswade, on the
banks of the Esk, where our eldest daughter, with the
three younger children and I, repaired early in the spring,
Mr. Fletcher joining us at the end of each week before the
Courts rose, to have his Sunday rest among us. It was
here that Mr. and Mrs^Simond and Miss Wilkes, afterwards
Mrs. Jeffrey, first visited us, introduced by Mrs. Craig
Millar. Mr. Simond was a grave, misanthropic Frenchman,
who had emigrated to America during the stirring period
of the French Eevolution. He was a man of refined and
literary taste, became a merchant at New York, and mar-
ried there a lively and agreeable woman, Miss Wilkes, a
FRANKFIELD AND THE ESK. 99
niece of the celebrated John Wilkes, the agitator of the
early part of George the Third's reign.
In the autumn of that year I well remember our watch-
ing one fine evening the expected arrival of our dear
Miles and Grace from Yorkshire, and I could even now
fancy I see their light active steps on the wooden
bridge that crossed the Esk near to our garden gate at
Frankfield. It was a happy meeting, and our Grace,
whose love of home and love of nature partook of the
poetical enthusiasm of her character, often mentioned it
as one of the brightest spots in her happy life. She
found her sister Margaret, then twelve years old, much
advanced in companionable qualities, their tastes and pur-
suits were similar, and her little sister Mary had all the
beauty and the shyness of a most interesting child, the
plaything of the family. The peculiar reserve of Bessy's
character made me think that she would benefit by being
thrown among strangers, and it was at this time fixed
that she should go and spend some months with Mrs.
Barbauld, where a new view of society, and the great
advantage of living with that most excellent and highly-
gifted woman, might excite her to more energetic aspira-
tions after knowledge and all that was praiseworthy. Her
personal beauty at that time was most remarkable, but her
manners were so cold and distant that she had few intimate
friends, and yet she had deep feeling. I remember that
she could hardly recover composure after reading the last
chapters of " Clarissa Harlowe." It was on a fine summer
evening at this time, when we had just finished that power-
ful book, and when our eyes were red with weeping over
it, that we sallied out to talk it over, for we could think
and speak of nothing else. "We were sauntering about on
a bank above the Esk called the Whinny, when who should
we meet but Professor Playfair, his then pupil Lord John
1 00 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
Russell, Mrs. Apreece, afterwards Lady Davy, and Miss
Hannah Mackenzie 1 (a daughter of the " Man of Feeling,"
Henry Mackenzie). Mrs. Apreece had brought me a letter
of introduction from Mr. Banks Cleaver. This very
agreeable party returned with us to drink tea at Frankfield,
helping us to forget the creations of Richardson's genius in
the sparkling vivacity of Mrs. Apreece, and the taste and
refinement of her companions.
[Those of us who survive well remember our enjoy meut of
this beautiful locality, known to us before only by occasional
visits to Roslin or Hawthornden. Our possession of the dear
mother's daily company was more complete than in any former
summer spent in the country ; and as that district was much
less a place of villas than it has since become, the wood walks
of the surrounding glens, with the steep banks of their streams,
the tiny feeders of the Esk, were as quiet and free as they were
beautiful. " Paidliri " and even bathing in these " burns "
were often incidents of our walks to town children an especial
delight. So was our intimacy with the whole succession of
flowering plants that grew in those nooks, from the earliest
primrose to the latest harebell. We never became botanists in
any systematic sense, though (as our mother has recorded)
" Sinclair Cullen, a grandson of Dr. Culleu, a young man of
unquestionable genius, and of manners the most lively and
engaging, used to come from Edinburgh as a frequent visitor,
and give us botanical lectures in those woods ; " but it was at
Frankfield that one unfailing pleasure of life became a habit
with us to observe minutely in their own haunts, and thus to
share the "innocent mirth" of wild-flowers. It was there, too,
that we first held intercourse with the labouring people of our
own country. Many of them not engaged in farming work
were employed in some paper-mills near at hand, but the hours
of work there were not so long as in most other factory toils.
1 This lady died many years ago, and none who had ever known her can
forget the charm of her social intercourse. In this it was difficult to say
whether her play of genuine humour in conversation, or her quick sympathy
and comprehension as a listener, were the most attractive.
MRS. BARBAULD. 101
The workers had time for the cultivation of their kail-yards,
and for no small cultivation of their minds besides. The boys
and girls came readily to some evening classes for instruction
such as we could help our mother to give them, and we learned
fully to respect the intelligence and to enjoy the conversible
qualities of the elder people when we visited them at their
frugal homes. Though we never returned to Frankfield as
summer residents, it was long afterwards a pleasure to us to
keep up the friendly intercourse of this time with a good many
of our village neighbours. The kindly welcomes we found at
the hearths of those we knew best well repaid the long walk
we sometimes took from Edinburgh in frosty days of the
following winters to see them, and to admire, hardly less than
in summer, the glen streams of those parts in their garniture of
icicles and frozen spray.]
In December of this year I set out with our eldest
daughter for London, where my old friend, Miss Forster,
met us. Previous to my leaving Bessy with Mrs. Barbauld,
I saw a good deal of that remarkable woman, remarkable
not more for genius, taste, and feeling, than for great
elevation of mind, lively wit, and playfulness of fancy.
Her manners were very pleasing, without the polish of
fashionable life, but with much of refinement and perfect
good breeding. I wished my dear child to have a high
standard of intellectual and moral perfection, and in placing
her with Mrs. Barbauld I had my wish accomplished. I
think it was Mrs. Barbauld's admirable essay on "The
Education of Circumstances " that gave me so great a desire
to place my daughter under the enviable circumstance of
being her inmate.
The winter of 1811 was not marked by any home event
that I can specially remember, except that our son Miles's
attendance at the Moral Philosophy class of the Edinburgh
College was the means of making us acquainted with Dr.
Thomas Brown, who had the year before been appointed
102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
successor to Dugald Stewart. Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton was
still resident in Edinburgh, and at her house we always
found most agreeable society, as well as at that of Mrs.
Grant of Laggan, who two years before had established
herself in Edinburgh, proving a great acquisition to our
little circle. The society of Edinburgh at that time was
delightful. The men then most distinguished in social
intercourse, alike by literary reputation and amiable man-
ners in society, were Walter Scott, Mr. Jeffrey, Dr. Thomas
Brown, Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. Thomas Thomson, Professor
Playfair, Mr. Pillans, the Eev. Dr. Alison. A little before
this time the forms of social meetings had somewhat changed
from what they were when I knew Edinburgh first. Large
dinner parties were less frequent, and supper parties I mean
hot suppers were generally discarded. In their place came
large evening parties (sometimes larger than the rooms could
conveniently hold) where card-playing generally gave place
to music or conversation. The company met at nine and
parted at twelve o'clock. Tea and coffee were handed about
at nine, and the guests sat down to some light cold refresh-
ments later on in the evening; people did not in these
parties meet to eat, but to talk and listen. There you would
see a group (chiefly of ladies) listening to the brilliant talk
of Mr. Jeffrey ; in a different part of the room, perhaps,
another circle, amongst whom were pale-faced, reverential-
looking students, lending their ears to the playful imagina-
tive discussions of Dr. Brown, while Professor Playfair
would sometimes throw in an ingenious or quiet remark,
that gave fresh animation to the discourse. On other
occasions, old Mr. Mackenzie would enliven the conversation
with anecdotes of men and manners gone by. It was this
winter that Mrs. Apreece and Mrs. Waddington divided the
admiration of the Edinburgh circles between them, the
one attractive by the vivacity of her conversation, the other
EDINBURGH SOCIETY. 103
by her remarkable beauty and the grace of her manners.
Her eldest daughter, then an intelligent girl, was afterwards
the wife of Baron Bunsen. I may remark that it was in this
society that Lord John Russell, then the inmate of Professor
Playfair, used to spend some of the evening hours that he
could spare from hard study. The enlightened philosophy
of Mr. Playfair's mind, when brought into close contact
with his own youthful aspirings, may have contributed to
give Lord John's mind that high tone of political morality
for which he has since been so distinguished.
It was during this period also, when my children were
growing up and able to enjoy variety of intercourse, that
several English families of intelligence and agreeableness
were attracted to Edinburgh, for the sake both of its society
and the advantages it afforded as to education for both sons
and daughters. It would be in vain now to enumerate all
the new people that came and went among us, some leaving
permanent friendships behind them, and others most kindly
feelings and not infrequent interchange of letters after they
left Edinburgh. Among those whose acquaintance in those
days ripened into friendship (which was continued without
interruption to the close of her life), Lady Williamson, the
widow of Sir Hed worth Williamson of Whitburn, should
be especially mentioned. She had a house for many years
in Queen Street, a few doors from North Castle Street.
Her daughters attended classes along with mine, and a
strong theatrical friendship was formed among our young
people, both sons and daughters, which led to most pleasant
meetings for rehearsals at our respective homes. Lady
Williamson's house was large, and one of the drawing-rooms
was converted into a little permanent theatre during one
winter, when the play of " Douglas," and some of Joanna
Baillie's dramas were got up with great effect, and large
audiences sometimes gave their applause con amore. After
104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the friendly family party left Edinburgh, we were always
urged to make Whitburn Hall a resting-place on our way
to Yorkshire, and frequently did so. The youngest Miss
"Williamson married the Hon. T. Dundas, now Earl of Zet-
land, and she never failed in showing me the most friendly
kindness in my dull Tadcaster life, when attending on my
aunt Dawson.
[Part of a Letter from Mrs. E. Hamilton to Mrs. Fletcher,
dated 1808.
" I long to hear of your meeting with Grace, and of the
improvement you found in the dear girl, and I know your ac-
count will be a faithful one; for this I can say of you with
truth that I have never known so fond a mother so perfectly
candid and impartial, neither have I ever known one to whom
I could so freely speak on the peculiar character of a child
without any apprehension of being mistaken by her in what I
said. This I consider as the greatest blessing to your children.
It permits you to make use of the eyes of your understanding
as well as your heart, and the consequences to them must be
great beyond expression."
Relating to my daughter Elizabeth, from Mrs. Sarbauld.
" DEAR MADAM, I cannot let Miss Fletcher make up her
pacquet without adding a line to say in truth, what I said
before, yet a mother, I fancy, will allow me to repeat that her
child is well and lovely, and the darling of every one who sees
her. I am every day more and more pleased with her intelli-
gence and the justness of her taste, as well as with the sweet-
ness of her manners. You would have been amused with a
dialogue that passed between us the other day. We were
reading Paley. ' But,' says she, ' I do not want all this evi-
dence, for it never entered into my mind to doubt of any of
these truths.' I observed to her, that there were those who
had made objections and had written books against them, and
that it might occur to her, at some time of her life, to be asked
LETTER FROM AIRS. BARBAULD. 105
for a reason of the hope that was in her ; ' But,' replied she,
with great naivete, ' I think it would be the best way, then, to
read first one of these books that are written against Christianity.'
You may believe I did not recommend one, bnt I felt the convic-
tion that we do not even wish our children to inquire without
a bias on their minds. Nor ought we ; if we think ourselves to
be in possession of important truths, it is both right and kind
to impress them on the mind of youth without waiting for the
uncertain process of their own crude reasonings. There is a
great deal of unjust prejudice against prejudice. Miss Fletcher
has no doubt told you that we have seen 'Berenice' performed,
and very well, at a private party. It is wonderful that a Play
should support itself, as this does, without change of situation
or anything that can be called an incident, and with the miser-
able expedient of three confidants created for the sole purpose
of being so; but ' Berenice' has many pretty lines, which one has
often heard quoted, and it has the remembrance of the interest
excited by the loves of Louis xiv. and Mancini. The French
Plays are better than the Fjnglish for private representation, as
they require no change of scene. I see, dear madam, you have
been struck as well as ourselves with the uncalled-for severity
of the Edinburgh Review against my niece I say uncalled-for,
because they were not reviewing her; and if they did not choose
to bring her book before the public, I think they had no right
to bring her name. The cause of their unfounded sarcasm
appears pretty evidently in the next page, where they mention
Montgomery. I wish my niece had not inserted her address to
that poet. ' They are too proud and too generous," said Mr.
Hamond, some time ago, when I was expressing a fear that it
might influence their notice of her ; but it has not proved so.
I wish the Reviewers would ask me for a motto; I could give
them one from Shakespeare :
' And, like the tyrannous breathing of the North,
Shakes all our buds from blowing.'
" I must have tired you, dear madam, with this long letter.
" A. L. BARBAUID.
" STOK.E XEWIXGTON, April 1811."
10l> AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
To her daughter Grace, from E. F.
" Sunday Morning, November 1812.
" The Napiers leave town on Tuesday, and I must prepare
my packet for you, dear child. Colonel George Napier is a
most interesting and truly heroic man. It was Miss Craig's
letters to her brother, so full of good sense and affectionate
solicitude, that won his heart ; then her brother used to dwell
on the sweetness of her temper and the goodness of her heart,
and with his dying breath he besought his friend to see his
sister whenever he returned to England. Under these impres-
sions, Colonel Napier was in the truest sense in love ; and
before he left London this summer, to fulfil young Craig's
dying wish, he told his mother, Lady Sarah, that if Miss Craig
corresponded with the expectations he had formed of her, she
was the only woman on earth he could love. His mother
sanctioned what the world would call his romantic passion.
He came, saw, and was completely conquered. You may
remember how deeply she was interested about him when she
was here last winter. To hear him talk of General Moore
would do you good, dear child ; he was his aide-de-camp, and
had been receiving orders five minutes before the General
received his fatal wound at the battle of Corunna. Napier
was at that moment sent to bring up some fresh detachments,
and did not return in time to see him while consciousness
lasted ; he was just expiring when Napier entered the tent.
He said Moore's heart was broken, and that he exposed his
person with desperate courage that day on which he fell, but
that during all his misfortunes his courage, firmness, and
magnanimity never forsook him, aud it was only his peculiar
friends who saw what was passing in his mind. Napier says,
' We shall never look upon his like again.'
" I hope, my dearest Grace, you enjoyed your last packet ;
believe me, you cannot have greater pleasure in hearing from ua
than I have in preparing them for you. Your kind heart and
affectionate attentions are a constant subject of sweet recollec-
tion to me, and nothing pleasant occurs without my earnestly
wishing you were here to share it with us. We shall hope to
hear from you at great length by Mr. Marshall, when you will
LETTERS. 107
give us a narrative of all your proceedings, thoughts, feelings,
and opinions. I expect much gratification this evening in our
meeting with Sir James Mackintosh again, who is a man of
very distinguished talents and great conversational powers. He
has been for the last ten years in India. His conversation is
full of interest and instruction. The account he gives of the
Hindoo character is very curious ; he says in refinement of
manners, cultivation, and politeness, they are equal to Europeans ;
that they talk of truth, honour, and moral obligation, as if they
felt it, but that, in fact, they neither act upon these principles
themselves nor expect you to act upon them. Sir James knew
a Hindoo Rajah, a man of great acquirements and of the most
polished manners, who, when he was disappointed in the collec-
tion of his taxes of the sum he expected, ordered a pound of
eyes to be brought him of those who had refused to pay the
taxes. Such horrid barbarity can only be attributed to the
want of the humanizing power of Christianity. The rites of
Juggernaut accustom the people to believe that their deity can
be pleased with human suffering ; how, then, can they be per-
suaded that the exercise of cruelty can be displeasing to him ]
Mr. M'Neill dined with us yesterday. He has just been on a
visit to Walter Scott, and hears that ' Rokeby ' is a domestic
tale : the scene, Mr. Morritt's, Rokeby ; the time, during the
wars of York and Lancaster. It will be published about
Christmas. I have been much pleased with some of Crabbe's
Tales they are so true to nature, such beautiful pictures of
the common and every-day joys and sorrows of humanity.
There is not a particle of poetical romance in them, but they
are often very touching. Pray tell Mr. S , with my best
compliments, that since I saw him we have seen a speech of
Mr. Fawkes, so full of wisdom, truth, and public spirit, that I
am convinced the report of his being deranged is nothing more
than a political calumny. I wish there were five hundred such
madmen in our House of Commons. I believe we should all
be the better for their measures, from the King to the lowest of
his subjects."
1 08 A UTOBIO GRAPH Y.
Parts of Letters to Mrs. Stark, 1813 and 1814.
"PARK HALL, 1813.
" No changes have happened since you left us except that our
autumnal tints are of a browner shade, and that we draw closer
round our fire in the evening, and that our picture grows more
like every touch we give the canvas.
" If Grace had a temper to be spoiled by commendation, my
delight in this picture would make her conceited, but though
she has pleasure in the art, it is with her a very secondary
pleasure what she most feels is the reflected enjoyment she
affords to me."
To the Same.
"December 15th, 1814.
" I could not write till I heard of dear Grace's safe arrival at
Tadcaster after a journey in the mail during the severest
weather we have had this winter. She set off with Mrs.
Macnab last Thursday. I cannot tell you what it cost me to
part with her for so many months, for even your indulgence
would condemn my weakness when so peremptory a duty
required the sacrifice. Miles's illness and our consequent anxiety
has prevented us from knowing what has been going on in
Edinburgh since we returned, but it has given us frequent
opportunities of seeing Dr. Thomson. He gives a sad picture
of the demoralization of Paris. He thinks this is greatly owing
to the unprincipled ambition of Bonaparte's government. It
was a government of expedients and not of general principles,
and, of course, no man of integrity could obtain or keep a situa-
tion of public trust or national importance, because if a more
enterprising or bold adventurer started a more daring project of
ambition he was always preferred, hence character lost its value
and fidelity its reward. Dr. Thomson seems to think this cor-
ruption of manners pervades all ranks, nor are the literary and
scientific men exempted from it. It makes one sad to think of
these things, dear friend, but I still hope that the great division
of property in France will in time establish a middle class, and
that this middle class will exercise a wholesome control over
public opinion favourable to private morals and general happi-
LETTERS TO MRS. STARK. 1C9
ness. Dr. Thomson says there are now in France three millions
of landed proprietors. We have been reading Wordsworth's
'Excursion' and Mrs. Brunton's ' Discipline.' Wordsworth's
Poem, of 423 pages quarto, has some exquisite passages, but is
on the whole far too long. It is marked, however, by that
high tone of moral sensibility and devout aspirations after good-
ness for which his other works are remarkable. His hero is a
pedlar, a Scotch pedlar, too, who carries his sublime morality
as well as his pack to the native mountains of the poet, and
there holds converse with Wordsworth. The critics may sneer,
but the lover of nature, and of mankind, will find much to love
in the 'Excursion.' We are delighted with 'Discipline;' I
will not anticipate your pleasure in reading it, but I am sure
you will find much to commend. The saintly purity of Miss
Mortimer's character is the finest illustration of genuine piety
that I have anywhere met with in fiction."
To the Same.
"May 19</*, 1814.
" Although I have not written to you, my dear friend, I have
been rejoicing with you in spirit and in truth at the great
events which have immortalized the past month, and have given
a new interest to the destinies of mankind ; never again did I
expect to feel the same interests in politics, the aspirations of
hope, or the same confidence in national virtue. The precepts
of La Harpe have not been as the good seed that was sown in
stony places. His illustrious pupil, the good Alexander, has
nobly proved the pre-eminence of virtue. How beautiful is the
simple and unostentatious manner in which he has acted !
Joanna Baillie writes to me that when the Duke of Clarence
asked the Duchess of Oldenburg what her brother would do when
he entered Paris, she said in broken English, He will first tank
God, and then he will seem as if he had noting to do in the
matter.' Count Orloff told Dr. Baillie that he had on his
estates in Russia about 40,660 peasants, all of whom could read,
and most of them write, that they could carry their complaints to
three different courts if they thought themselves injured, and that
the expense of law proceedings would not exceed fifty shillings.
110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
" We are now upon a visit to one of my earliest friends, Mrs.
Laycock, in the sweetest of Yorkshire villages, where beautiful
woodland scenery, the loveliest freshness of spring, and the
happiest domestic intercourse contribute to our enjoyment.
How I wish we had you in this pleasant village, where every-
thing wears the aspect of gladness, and harmonizes with the
festivity of nature in her gayest season ! An English village is
in ray mind the best commentary on the English constitution,
the independence, comfort, security, industry, and opulence of
its inhabitants are the blessed fruits of peace and liberty."
From G. F. to her Mother.
VISIT TO SAEAH THE GOOD SERVANT, WHOSE STORY WAS TOLD IN THE
FIRST PART OF THESE MEMORIALS.
"TADCASTER, March 1813.
"MY DEAREST MOTHER, On Monday, immediately after
breakfast, I set out on my delightful errand to Grimston. I
happily escaped all our Argus-eyed neighbours, and therefore
had the satisfaction of walking alone.
' It was the first mild day of March,
Each minute sweeter than before.'
Those beautiful lines of Wordsworth were strongly recalled
to my memory, for there was in truth 'a blessing in the air.'
I found Sarah alone in her cottage, excepting her little silent
friend and companion, her infant's chair, which you know
always stands beside her. She spoke much of you, and told me
she remembered well the first day you went to visit her poor
mistress. When I gave her Lady Williamson's generous
present, she seemed almost overpowered, and she told me after-
wards, when I asked her to dictate to me what she wished to
say I would write for her, that at the moment she received the 5
her heart was so filled with gratitude that she could not speak.
She said that, not having learned to write, she could not indite
properly to a lady, and I did not press her to do so, lest it should
perplex her and make her think I doubted her gratitude ; but
she repeatedly begged me to tell the good lady how very much
she felt her kindness, for it had been a hard winter, and that
VISIT TO SARAH, THE GOOD SERVANT. Ill
she was growing old now and not able to work as she used
to do. With admirable delicacy she never mentioned her
conduct to her mistress in expressing her thanks to Laxly
Williamson, not even to depreciate it ; she seemed to feel that
touching on her own merits would have been like giving herself
a claim to the generosity of the 'good lady.' When I told
her that you wanted a picture of her, she said certainly, it was
her duty, and without making one excuse seated herself where
I wished her. I was delighted to find one human being at least
free from vanity, for though Sarah was in her common working
dress, she did not seem at all discomposed ; she was much
pleased that you should think of her, but did not concern her-
self how she appeared. Indeed, she submitted to it as a sort
of duty, and thought, as you desired it, it was the only
little return she could make for all your kindness. When she
had sat some time I told her I feared she would be tired of
sitting still so long ; with great simplicity she mildly answered,
' Oh, thank you, I can sit still very patiently.' The sketch I
have taken does not altogether please me, but as I have caught
some of the expression of her countenance I will send it in the
next frank. I should have much pleasure iu introducing our
good Sarah to Dr. Brown if he comes this way in spring, and
can spare time. She is an admirable creature, when I see her
in dress and manners, so simple, uncultivated, and uneducated,
with a soul filled with every excellence, and when I contrast
her with many of the great worldlings around us, Shakespeare's
words constantly come into my mind
'A ministering angel shall she be when they lie howling.'
It is difficult to give in a drawing the peculiar expression of
placidity and resignation in her countenance. This is another
proof among many of the wretched limitation in human power
when inspired almost poetically inspired by the character,
the mind of the person whose countenance you are to delineate ;
if, unfortunately, your pencil has not a sharp point and you
have forgotten your knife, vainly will you seek to give to each
varying beauty of the human face 'its local habitation.'
There is great vexation of spirit in this, a vexation from which
Sarah has been saved, as she cannot draw.
112 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
" Among the late subjects at the Forum, would it not be a
good one to discuss whether accomplishments are of essential
advantage to the happiness of rational beings ? and though for
my own part I should much plead in favour of them, yet a good
deal might be said on the other side of the question."
Parts of Letters from Grace Fletcher to her Mother
and Sisters.
"January 15th, 1815.
" When this reaches you, dearest mamma, you will be sitting
with them all Miles telling you about Bourtree Hill, and all
those pleasant little minute histories so interesting to ourselves.
It is your birthday, and they have all wished you many, ah !
how many, joyful returns of the day. I remember we used all to
try to be the first to run into your room, and give you the
wish, and receive the first kiss. I must content myself with
being the last this time, but now from my heart do I send you
my little tribute of affection. We enjoy at this moment, I
trust, the only true happiness, the only happiness I think we
much prize, the wellbeing of those we love dearest papa's
good health, yours, and all of us ; how few are so blessed for
a continuation of these do I hope and pray, and poor indeed
after these would be any wishes of worldly benefits. Accept
then, dearest of mothers, this best wish, and think of me on
the 15th as thinking only of you. Dear aunty, she spoke of
you this morning, with tears in her eyes tears of love and
memory.
" Your kindness has furnished me with a great gratification ;
two or three days ago I received 'Discipline.' 1 I have read
the greater part of it twice over ; common sentiments of
admiration and liking do not suit a book which is so uncommon,
a book which, independent of its interest, has precepts and
opinions which must be chronicled in the mind, a book, in
short, the aim and object of which is so noble. I rose from
the perusal of it better, at least in the desire of being better.
Miss Mortimer seems to me a character perfectly new ; hers is
a soul and a spirit which sets commonplace at defiance ; how
1 By Mrs. Brunton.
LETTER FROM LUCY AIKIN. 113
beautiful is her tenderness, her piety, her generosity ! Maitland
is the only sort of hero I admire ; splendid, dashing heroes I
cannot endure ; perfect heroes, such as my dear Sir Charles,
are a little tiresome, not from their goodness, for it is unpleas-
ant even in speaking of the hero of a novel to hear goodness
objected to, but from the minuteness with which their charitable
deeds are related, which gives them the air of being busy-
bodies ; but in Maitland, the noble intellect, the force of mind,
and those feelings which make you know he must be good and
charitable, with a certain (I hardly know what to call it) want
of detail in the delineation of his character, present to us a
being altogether admirable, altogether worthy of love. I like the
manner in which Mrs. Brunton has treated the Highland part
of the book. She has seized on those features in the manners and
character of the Highlanders which are descriptive and pictur-
esque, not those which are ludicrous. She has not taken from
the nature of her picture by giving a too brilliant colouring to
the scenes she presents ; she has mellowed the background,
and touched the prominent and interesting parts with feeling
and genius. To me she has as much surpassed the author of
* Waverley ' in taste as she has in sentiment. Is it not more
pleasing to soar than to sink almost buried in the mire ? It is
as if a person in describing man said that he was an animal,
prodigiously like an ouran-outang ; this is a bodily compari-
son taken from the earth. There was a poet who, glancing
from heaven to earth, exclaimed, ' What a piece of work is
man ! in action, how like an angel ! in apprehension, how like
a god !' This was a transient burst of exultation, not of
arrogant self-confidence ; thinking of great things must always
make us humble, because such thoughts lead to the fountain
of all greatness. But there is no end of these reflections ; my
solitary musings make me very tedious, dearest mamma.
Fondest love to all G. F."
From Miss Aikin.
"STOKE NEWINGTOX, July 1st, 1815.
" My DEAR MBS. FLETCHER, I must not lose the opportunity
of writing to you by our dear Grace, yet what can I write that
she will not be able to tell you far better ? On one subject
H
114 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
only you will find her information defective, and that is herself.
She never can, or never will, tell you how very much she has
delighted us all by her sweet manners and most interesting
conversation, and how deeply we have all regretted her very
hasty departure, which has left us tantalized rather than satisfied
with her society. ' She is all soul,' says my father. She
pleases me/ says my mother, * more than any young woman I
have seen ; she is all one could wish.' She is everything, say
I, that I hoped and expected she would be, when I saw her
three years ago at her own home, already a being that I could
make a companion and friend. How exquisite must be your
feelings, my friend, who can look on such a creature and
say, This is mine ; mine her manners, mine her tastes, her
talents, her principles, her feelings. Who can think of you
without envying a little the privileges of a mother of such a
child?
" But you will expect me to quit this theme of domestic
interest for those public events which nothing can long banish
from a mind like yours. What shall we hope or fear, welcome
or deprecate, for a nation where revolution succeeds revolution
with a rapidity which baffles all speculation and all example ?
For my part, I imagine myself sitting in a theatre, where, with
eyes riveted on the stage, I watch with eager curiosity and
intense interest the unfolding of a grand and complicated drama.
Sometimes I smile, sometimes I weep or shudder, often I am
surprised, not unfrequently disappointed, but through all
successive changes I look with impatience to some end, some
great catastrophe, which is to wind up all and show me why
this or that incident was made to turn so or so, and what was
really to have been wished at such a particular point of the
history. Meantime I scarcely feel justified in rejoicing or
lamenting, and all my abstract principles seem to be swept
away by the resistless current of events. Never, indeed, have
I seen the friends of freedom in general so divided, so perplexed,
so much in danger of falling into a dilemma on whichever side
they speak or act Bonaparte, the Republican General, was
an object of fond admiration to all whom the atrocities of the
reign of terror had not previously disgusted for ever with the
French cause and nation ; of those some ceased to wish him
LE TTER FROM L UC Y AIKLV. 1 15
well after the plundering of Rome, others after he deserted his
army in Egypt, and all the consistent ones, as it appears to me,
abjured him at last when he assumed the throne ; but some,
either from a fanatical belief that he was destined to overthrow
the Church of Rome, or from the habit and passion of opposi-
tion to the ruling party at home, have clung to him in all
fortunes. It was difficult for us to hail with cordiality the
return of the Bourbons, and some acts of Louis have certainly
tended to show that it was truly said that the family had
learned nothing and forgotten nothing. On the late restoration
of Bonaparte, which had something in it very imposing, it
appeared as if the voice of the nation was again heard, and
you were by no means singular in indulging a hope that a con-
stitutional party would arise and convert this military despot
into a lawful sovereign. I, however, cherished no such
expectations. I expected that the Praetorian guard and their
emperor, if successful against their foreign enemies, would soon
overpower the feeble resistance of the Senate, and I anticipated
nothing in such a case but a restoration in full force of his odious
tyranny, and ten years of bloodshed and devastation for Europe.
In the triumph of the allies and the expected second return of
the old dynasty, I therefore rejoice as in the triumph of peace
over war, a legitimate sovereign of mild character and pacific
disposition over a soldier of fortune, insolent by temper and
arbitrary by habit, while his rival is likely to be only haughty
by birth and absolute in theory. If, indeed, a constitutional
party worthy of the name survives at Paris, by whom will its
voice be most willingly heard, by Napoleon the military
emperor or by Louis the lawful king ? I think unquestionably
by the latter. I even hope that he may find it his interest to
throw himself into the arms of this only sound portion of the
nation as a support against the enmity of the army, which I
hope to see under his reign unemployed and consequently
disaffected. That the last great battle has thinned its ranks
I regard as happy for France and for Europe. Under the terror
of such a standing army devoted to such a leader, could civil
rights exist in security ?
" Thus have I given you my whole profession of faith on this
momentous subject^ on which in general I think much and
116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
speak very little, conscious of my imperfect knowledge, and the
many, many chances of erring in my judgment.
" Grace will tell you that I am on the wing for Brighton, and
I every moment expect her to claim this letter with our reluc-
tant adieux. Believe me, ever yours,
" L. AIKIN."
To Mrs. F. from Mrs. Brunton, author of " Self -Control "
and "Discipline"
"LONDON, June 1815.
" G. left me on Wednesday, and has carried with her more of
my esteem, as well as affection, than I ever bestowed upon any
person in the same term of acquaintance. Perhaps I like her
the better that she affords me occasion to applaud my own
penetration. She is precisely the being I expected her to prove.
She tempts me to the sin of covetousness ; and is, at this
moment, the only possession of yours, or any other person's, for
which I am inclined to break the tenth commandment. If I
do not absolutely, as the Catechism says, ' envy and grieve at
the good of my neighbour,' I cannot deny that I have ' in-
ordinate motions and affections ' to what is yours. I am ready
to quarrel with you for taking her away from me before I had
time to steal any part of the kindest and gentlest of hearts
from you. I have seldom seen any one whom I was more
desirous to attach ; but she is gone from me before I had time
to counteract the ill impressions she would receive from my
stiffness and my Calvinism. This last, you know, you gave
me permission to expose ; and accordingly I have not concealed
it. On the contrary, I have spoken out my convictions strongly,
though, I hope, not harshly ; and have even solemnly adjured
my dear young friend to give them her deliberate and candid
consideration.
" She will probably tell you this, and all which has occupied
our discourse and attention. But she will not tell you that
the modesty and candour the singular mixture of simplicity
and acuteness, of enthusiasm and gentleness, which she was
every moment unconsciously exhibiting, have made her the most
interesting show which I have seen in London."
LETTER FROM MRS. BARBAULD. 117
From Mrs. Barbauld to Mrs. Fletclier.
" STOKE NEWTNGTON, June 23d, 1815.
"I must write, I must tell you how much I, how much all of
us, admire your daughter. It is but seldom that expectations
highly raised are gratified. The imagination has been at work,
and the first feeling, at least, is disappointment, but I do assure
you your dear Grace is everything I expected, and everything
her friends can wish her. The stores of her mind are evidently
large, her knowledge not vague, but clear and accurate, and
generosity and sensibility seem the leading features of her
mind. Her manner is, I think, equally remote from shyness
and from a love of display, and has all the graces of youth and
modesty. To this she adds all those obliging attentions which
youth, confident in its attractions, sometimes neglects ; but
now, my dear madam, do you think we can soon resign such
a treasure, just look at it and say farewell 1 Indeed we cannot ;
and the object of my letter is to say that I do hope you will
alter your intentions of having Miss Fletcher home so soon, as
to our sorrow, no less than surprise, she talks of. So near
London, and with your extensive connexions and those of your
friends, there cannot long want opportunities of an escort home ;
and if our own dear Grace can make herself happy here, I hope
you will not refuse to let her prolong a visit on which we have
thought so long and with so much pleasure ; and now, I will
say no more, but leave it to your generosity.
"Are your friends in Edinburgh rejoicing or mourning over
our late victory ? I should suppose there are few families that
have not lost some relation, some endeared friend, in the last
bloody day. what a pugnacious animal is man, and what
prospect for Europe in so many hordes of fighting men, who, if
they please, may cut and carve it amongst themselves. I
should not wonder to see France divided as Poland was. A
portion in the middle, perhaps, left for the Bourbons ; they
could secure nothing by their own prowess."]
In the summer of 1812 Mr. Fletcher and all the family
went to Yorkshire. The following winter my husband
found himself less able for the labours of his profession ;
1 18 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
though nothing could exceed his industry, he became
more frequently attacked by feverish ailments. He had
weathered the political storm most manfully, without
truckling either to judges and men in power on the one
hand, or courting popularity by any subserviency to the
party of the people on the other. He held his course
right onward, and nothing could exceed his interest in the
public good. It was always the subject next his heart,
and the most animating topic of discourse at his own fire-
side in the midst of his family. He had no turn for
frivolous conversation, and though no enemy to cheerful-
ness, and most indulgent to the tastes and feelings of his
wife and children, to whom I never heard him utter a
harsh word or unkind expression, he was less personally
disposed to mix in large parties than he had once been.
In the summer of 1813 he was prevailed on to take his
whole family to Park Hall, our small and most incom-
modious dwelling in Stirlingshire. The interest he took
in his planting and improvements at Park Hall led us
after this to pass the greater part of five summers there,
where he was free from the fatigues and cares of business,
and by this means, I think, added some years to his valu-
able life, as well as afforded him great interest and amuse-
ment. Our summers at Park Hall were made cheerful and
agreeable by the friendliness of our neighbours and the
novelty of the situation. We were twenty miles from
post and market, and I remember in the summer of 1813
a man used to go round among the carnivorous inhabitants
of the parish to ask if they would bespeak a quarter of lamb
or leg of mutton before he ventured to kill the animals in
question. There was a carrier once a week from Glasgow
who brought our bread, our groceries, and our letters ; and
often our impatience for news from the distant world
made us walk miles on the Glasgow road on fine summer
FIRST SUMMER A 7' PARK HALL. 119
evenings to meet the carriers, and the contents of the bag
for the village of Balfron were turned out upon the road,
while by the light of the carrier's lantern we picked out
our letters and hastened home to read them. Balfron was
a most lawless village. There was a cotton-mill in it, and
the workers in it were among the best people there. It
was illicit distillation that demoralized the district. The
men of the place resorted to the woods or to the seques-
tered glens among the Campsie Hills, and there distilled
whisky, which their wives and daughters took in tin vessels
in the form of stays buckled round their waists to sell for
a high price at Glasgow. This fraud against the Excise
led to many other frauds, as these poor people were
tempted to steal the articles from which they made the
whisky, and a gang of that desperate description lived
upon the plunder of their neighbours' goods. One Satur-
day night the contents of our larder were carried off by
some of these marauders, and we were left to make shift
for a Sunday dinner, but our hapless condition being noised
abroad, legs of mutton, cheeses, butter, and all sorts of
good cheer were heaped upon us by the neighbouring
gentry. These were diverting incidents at the time, and
the summer of 1813 passed most happily away, although
quite without the luxuries or almost the ordinary comforts
and accommodations of persons accustomed to polite society.
We had several friendly visitors, and among others, a
distinguished stranger, the brother of my dear friend Mrs.
Henry Erskine, Colonel Monro, who after a life of honour-
able warfare in India had the year before come home to
see his friends. Sir Thomas was a man of stern appearance
but of most gentle and kindly dispositions, with great
talents and high principles of integrity and honour. His
sister afterwards told me that the object of his visit at
Park Hall at that time was to gain our eldest daughter for
1 20 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
his bride. He had the previous winter often met and
admired her at Edinburgh parties, but the fates, or rather
Providence, willed it otherwise, for she was then, when he
came to visit us, on a visit to Mrs. Glasgow in Ayrshire,
and there became engaged to Mr. Taylor. Sir Thomas
married and returned to India, and died Governor of
Madras.
I have said little yet of my younger children, whose
characters were by degrees becoming more and more
developed. If I had any system in education, it was to lay
as little restraint as was consistent with their good on the
wishes and pursuits of my children. They equally shared my
sympathy and confidence. I had no pleasures which they
did not share, no amusements in which they did not take
part. I thought that in making them happy I should
make them good; but I think I erred in encouraging
amusements of too exciting a character, such as private
theatricals and recitations. In dear Grace they had
perhaps a tendency to increase an excessive sensibility and
enthusiasm of character, which, while it made her a most
attractive and delightful human being to every one who
could appreciate her refined taste arid varied talents, would,
had she lived, have made her too susceptible to the dis-
appointments of life. I think I did not help my children
sufficiently to strengthen their minds by self-discipline;
and though I endeavoured to teach them the religion of
the Bible, still I think their religious home teaching was
too vague and unsystematical to impress habits of self-
restraint and self-government from the fear of offending
God constantly on their minds. To girls educated at
home this is not an unsafe religious education, but to sons,
educated as all men are by the world, it is not strict
enough to enable them to avoid the seduction of the
passions, and the evils of bad example, to which they are
av THE BENEFITS OF TADCASTER LIFE. 121
so soon exposed. It was on principle, as well as from a
feeling of deep gratitude towards the kindest of aunts, that
I consented that my three dear girls Grace, Margaret, and
Mary should take it each in turn to spend their winter
half-year with my good uncle and aunt at Tadcaster. They
all loved home intensely, and it was no small sacrifice for
them to remain in a small dull country town with two old
people, without variety, and with no society, or such as
they considered worse than none ; but such was their
sense of duty, and such their desire to repay the debt of
gratitude their mother owed to this good aunt, that they
never complained, when their turn came round, to give up
their happy home, and all the pleasures and delights of an
Edinburgh society, which they could so fully and richly
enjoy, but went cheerfully into their exile ; and by
frequent letters to and from home, cultivated an ease and
liveliness of letter- writing which exercised both mind and
heart. This was not the only use of these Tadcaster
winters, it abstracted them from the constant whirl of
amusement in which other girls of their age were engaged,
it proved a seasonable aid to reflection, and enabled them
to live contentedly without excitement, for never did an
expression of discontent escape from any of them under
these circumstances. Fortunately they had no ready
access to books of mere amusement, and were thus thrown
on solid reading such as Miss Hill's library, aunt Dawson's
book-shelves, and the York library offered. Another
advantage this seclusion afforded was, throwing my dear
girls among a different grade and description of people
from any that they had been accustomed to. It is a com-
fort to me now to think that my dear aunt owed much of
the cheerfulness of her latter years to the interest she took
in her young companions. The sweetness of her temper,
and her exceeding indulgence towards them, secured them
122 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
from all trials of temper so far as she was concerned ; and
then the joy of coming home more than compensated for
the privations they had experienced. It was a good
school for them ; it threw them on their own resources ; it
gave them individually the happy consciousness that they
were doing good, making their mother's hest friend happy,
and that at the expense of some amusement and pleasure
which they sacrificed. It taught them to venerate old age
in the sweet example their good aunt's happy temper
afforded them, while by the useful employment of their
time, they were making more solid acquirements than they
could have found leisure to do in Edinburgh.
On the 16th July 1814 our eldest daughter was married
to Mr. William Taylor, who then lived at a place belong-
ing to the Earl of Eglinton, called Bourtree Hill. He
had unfortunately left the Bar, and a life of considerable
usefulness in Parliament, where he belonged to the party of
Huskisson and Canning, for the sake of superintending
some collieries which his father had left him, and which
proved the cause of much after-embarrassment and distress.
[From A llan Cunningham.
" LONDON, April 20th, 1815.
" MADAM, I scarcely know how to address you after such
a pause in our correspondence, and lest your eye should have
forgotten my hand, allow me to forsake the common path of
letter-writing and say it is Allan Cunningham who writes to
you one whom you have honoured with your friendship and
your counsel, and who never associates your name but with all
the words that are generous and exalted and soul-warm in the
language. Since I wrote to you last, I have made an impor-
tant alteration in my mode of life, having forsaken the news-
papers and returned to my original vocation. Do not attribute
this to fluctuation of temper and love of change. It was a
premeditated step, and my peace of mind, niy health, and the
LETTER FKOM ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 123
welfare of my family, alike demanded it. When I left the
papers I entered into the employment of Mr. Chantrey, a
sculptor of eminent natural abilities, who intrusted me with
the management of his work, and gave me a comfortable
salary. With him I enjoy the greatest repose of mind. After
observing all day the marble assume elegance and grace
beneath the chisel of the sculptor, I return to a neat and
convenient house, and amuse myself in cultivating cabbages or
bachelors'-buttons till the twilight, after which I edify my
youngest son, and sometimes my wife, by humming over re-
mains of ancient song. This I hope is an amusement as
harmless as babbling in rhyme, and as pleasant too, and what
heightens my enjoyment still more, is the prospect which I
have of seeing you in Edinburgh in the course of a twelve-
month, for we are carving statues of President Blair and Lord
Melville for decorating your good town, which I will have to
erect. My mind is now free from the delightful but bewitch-
ing entanglements of poesy. Acquaintance with the world has
sombered the rosy and romantic colouring with which my youth
had decked the vista of future years. It has given me right
notions and a knowledge of myself, and pictured the path of
my life with an austere but a truthful hand."]
1816. It was during this winter that we were led, by
strong feelings of sympathy with dear Miles's happiness, to
see clearly that his attachment to Miss Clavering, and the
attachment he had inspired, called upon us to make some
sacrifice to enable him to fulfil his engagement. Nothing
could be more reasonable and less selfish than his feelings
and conduct. When, upon being asked what he meant to
do, he frankly avowed his engagement, and said "I intend
to work and wait ; I know you cannot afford to make me
a separate establishment." I should here mention, with
contrition, how severely I felt Mrs. Taylor's misfortunes,
not with thankful submission that no part of them was
owing to any misconduct on her part, that ought to have
consoled me ; but it was my first great sorrow and disap-
124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
pointment, and, like the spoiled child of fortune, I took
her reverses of fortune so desperately to heart that I
seldom awoke in the morning without finding my pillow
wet with tears. I was most rebellious under this dispensa-
tion ; but it pleased God to send me sorrow in another
shape, coming not through human intercession, but directly
from His chastening hand ; and when that sorrow came,
though I did not feel less for Mrs. Taylor's blighted pro-
spects in life, the character of my grief was changed : it
ceased to be rebellious, and was subdued by a feeling of
conscious impiety in having rebelled against the will of
God.
The winter of this year (1816 and 1817) was quietly
and peacefully spent; but as I have narrated it more
particularly in a short memoir of my beloved Grace,
written three months after her death, which happened on
the 16th of April 1817, 1 ! shall not here repeat the details,
as the narrative contains more traits and characteristic
incidents of the last six months of Grace's life than my
memory would now enable me to supply. Dated March
6, 1844.
^Letter to Miss Aikin, from Miles Angus Fletclter.
" April 19, 1817.
"I write, at the desire of my dear and afflicted mother, to let
you know of the irreparable loss we have sustained. It is not
yet three weeks since our dear Grace was attacked by a fever,
which soon showed itself to be typhus. The progress of the
disease was rapid, but Doctors Gregory and Thomson said it
was not attended with any peculiarly bad symptom. On Sunday
last she was much better, and on Tuesday so well as to allow
me, with some comfort, to set out upon the Western Circuit.
On Wednesday she became rapidly worse, and that evening
1 See Appendix.
ARRIVAL AT PARK HALL. 125
Closed her sufferings and her blameless life. When I tell you
that we have lost Grace, I am sure I need not attempt to
describe the affliction of this unhappy family. My father
seems to have acquired strength from the necessity of exertion,
but my mother's grief is at present beyond the reach of con-
solation. Dr. Thomson was with Grace at the last moment ;
till all was over he had not abandoned hope ; he even thought
some favourable symptoms appeared within the last hour, and
when she did expire, her departure was so quiet that he could
hardly observe the change.
" Will you communicate this afflicting intelligence to Mrs.
Barbauld and to Miss Benger 1 My mother will write to them
and to yourself when she becomes more composed. I trust all
those dear to you are well. I am, yours faithfully,
" MILES A. FLETCHER.
"NoKTH CASTLE STREET."
At the end of April 1817 we all went to Park Hall.
After such a sorrow, the return to a place where Grace had
been so happy, so useful, and so beloved was a new trial ;
but the quietness and retirement of our country home was
greatly preferred by all of us to remaining in Edinburgh
at that time.
We all tried to support each, other in the best way we
could, and I had the comfort of seeing Mr. Fletcher regain
both health and spirits while occupied with his farm. We
were soon joined by our eldest and youngest daughters.
Mrs. Taylor was at that time living at Newcastle, where
dear Mary, under Mrs. Millar's kind escort from Yorkshire
(where she had spent the winter), joined her sister, and
they proceeded together to Edinburgh, after we had come
to Park Hall.
126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[LETTERS FROM AND TO MRS. FLETCHER, ON THE SUBJECT OF
GRACE'S DEATH AND CHARACTER.
To her daughter Mary.
" PARK HALL, April 27, 1817.
" Papa, Margaret, Angus, and I, with Robertson and little
Spinky, arrived here safe and well at 8 o'clock last night. It
was a fine day ; and if we could have enjoyed anything, it
would have been the mildness of the air, the freshness and
verdure of the country, and the beauty of the setting sun and
western sky. We have had the only refreshing sleep that we
have got for nearly a month past, for having all walked for
several miles at different parts of the road, we were much
fatigued. We have been sauntering about for three or four
hours this morning in one of the brightest and warmest days
I ever remember at this season. The little shrubbery that
Angus, you, and I planted, is thriving well, the garden in good
order, and the Ayrshire rose, clematis, and woodbine in most
luxuriant beauty. The woodbine near the little parlour window
was planted by our darling Grace, when we came here on the 1 5th
of June 1813. You and Bessy will remember that we all
arrived late on the night of the 14th, I and my four dear girls.
It seems strange to me now that we did not then think our-
selves the very happiest of human beings. I think we did
enjoy the blessings of each other's affection, but we did not
prize it half enough. What would we not now give to be as
happy as we were on that 1 4th of June ! These reflectionsj
my dearest Mary, have no other use than to make us deeply
and sensibly thankful for what remains to us. They cannot
recall what we have lost. Tell dearest Mrs. Millar that Park
Hall is not gloomy, nor does it recall half so many painful and
heart-breaking recollections as the house in Castle Street did,
where the sound of her mournful and delirious voice was never
absent from my mind one moment. She is here indeed, an4
must be carried everywhere in my heart, as long as it shall
beat ; but she is here, tranquil and happy, such as I saw her
two years ago when she arrived from London. Your father's
health will be greatly improved by coming here, and so will
LETTER FROM REV. J. CLOWES. 127
dear Margaret's, whose paleness and melancholy have sometimes
alarmed me, though she has made the most wonderful efforts to
support us all. I have had a very excellent and gratifying
letter from Miss Clavering, and indeed if sympathy could have
availed us, we have met with more than I can tell you. It
has been soothing, as a testimony to the virtues of your sister }
which, modest and unobtrusive as they were, seem to have
been noted in a remarkable degree. My dear child, do not
afflict yourself about us : you will find your father and me
wonderfully composed, and your and Bessy's coming is a joyful
anticipation to us all. We long, too, to see dear little Archy
also."
Copy of a Letter from the Rev. J. Clowes to Mrs. Fletdier,
on Grace's Death.
"MANCHESTER, May 13, 1817.
" MY DEAR MADAM, A few days ago our excellent friend
Miss Kennedy brought me a letter which she had lately
received from you, from which I soon perceived that your pen
was dipped in tears, and that you rank at present amongst the
number of those blessed ones who are distinguished by the holy
title of mourners in Zion. Let me not then be thought an
impertinent intruder into the sanctuary of your sorrows, if I
wish on this occasion to mingle my tears with yours, by
entering into partnership with you, both in your afflictions and
in all those heavenly consolations which the Father of Mercies
never fails to mix in the cup of His afflicted children. Charity,
we know, which is the spirit of heaven, is never so happy as
in the opportunity of pouring into the troubled bosom the oil
of joy and gladness, and he knows at the same time that this
oil comes only from the God of heaven, whose high and holy
name is Jesus Christ. I might therefore say to you, as the
king of Israel said to a mourner in his day, ' If the Lord do
not help thee, whence should I help thee ?' Nor should I con-
ceive that the words contained anything of repulsion or of dis-
couragement, for is not our God a present help in trouble, and
do not all His dispensations as well as His declarations prove
Him to be so 1 Is He not also above all trouble, and this in
128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
such a sort, that He not only controls it, by saying to its
waves, ' Hitherto shall ye go, and no further ' ] but He also
compels it to administer to His own purposes of blessing, so
that every trouble opens the gate of some new joy, which
otherwise could neither have been seen nor tasted. I please
and flatter myself with thinking that you have already
experienced the truth of this sentiment, and that even in the
loss of your dear child (if it may be called a loss) you have found
a more than proportionable gain, through the communication
and admission of some heretofore unknown consolation. And
how do you know but that your dear child may have been the
minister of that consolation ? We cannot indeed see with our
bodily eyes that this has been the case, but the eye of faith
we know possesses a more quick and penetrating vision, and
being enlightened by the light of this eternal truth, sees things
as they are, not as they appear to be. To the eye of faith
therefore the invisible world is near and visible as this world
is to the eye of the body, and therefore it sees all that the
Word of God has revealed respecting that invisible world, and
how the souls or spirits of the deceased are still alive, even
more alive than when in the material body, and also are still
near to those they loved and by whom they were loved, and
even nearer than heretofore ; and further, that they are
endowed with greater power, as well as stronger inclination
to comfort, support, and protect those whom they have left
behind them. Jesus Christ accordingly informs His disciples,
previous to His departure out of the world, ' It is expedient
for you that I go away, for if I go not away, the Comforter
will not come unto you ; but if I go away I will send Him unto
you :' and again, 'I go away and come again unto you;'
thus instructing them that although He was leaving them as
to bodily presence, yet He would still be virtually and
really present with them as a Holy Comforter, to guide, pro-
tect, and console them. Doubt not therefore, my dear madam,
that what was true respecting Jesus Christ is true also respect-
ing His children, so that when they quit this world they enter
immediately into a state of being in which the capacity of
intercourse and of blessing is indefinitely increased. In devout
prayer that you may feel all the comfort of this sentiment, and
LETTER FROM JOANNA BAILLIE. 129
still enjoy both the presence and the society of your beloved
child, I remain, dear Madam, affectionately yours,
"J. CLOWES."
Joanna Baillie to Mrs. Fletcher.
"June 30th, 1817.
" I wrote to our friend Miss Millar some considerable time
after your severe loss, to inquire for you and Mr. Fletcher and
the family, and had the satisfaction to hear by her answer as
good an account of you as I could expect. May I now be
permitted to make inquiries immediately of yourself? not,
however, expecting an answer from your own pen, if it should
be painful to you, but only hoping that Mrs. Taylor (who, I
learn, is with you), or some member of the family, will have
the goodness to send me a few lines. Your sorrow for the
loss of a child so excellent in head, heart, temper, in every-
thing that is most desirable in one of God's children, has
been sympathized with in no common degree. It has been a
sensation deeply felt by many, who on their own account also
lamented the sad event. I have never known any young
person so universally admired and beloved, and few, I believe,
have lived in the world, unconnected with any remarkable
circumstance, that will be so long and so tenderly remembered.
This is soothing to your grief ; and with the greatest of all
consolation the hopes of religion and the family blessings
that are spared to you still, your heart cannot be desolate, but
must be comforted. May you indeed feel every comfort and
consolation that your heavy affliction will admit ! My sister
begs to join me in condolence and all kind wishes to you and
Mr. Fletcher, Mrs. Taylor, and all the family. I hoped to
have heard of you last week by Mrs. Barbauld, but I was
prevented from going to Newington, which I regretted. Dr.
Aikin's recovery from such a decided palsy, a recovery so
speedy and so complete, at his advanced age, is extraordinary.
Mrs. Barbauld' s spirits are quite raised by it, for at the first, I
understand, she was like one stunned and knocked down.
How few brothers and sisters have been to one another what
they have been through so long a course of years ! When
they must part, it will be a dismal thing for the survivor."
I
130 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
From Mrs. Barbauld, on G. F.'s death, to her Mother, 1817.
" It has been the impulse of my heart to write to you, and
yet I hardly know how. What can I say, how can I express
the shock this awful, this most affecting event has given me,
has given all of us 1 How are the fairest hopes destroyed,
how are the dearest ties severed ! when was the uncertainty
of life, and all its hopes, exemplified in a more solemn manner 1
Dear Grace ! I had hoped myself some time, perhaps this
summer, to see more of her, to see her open the stores of her
rnind, to see the modest flower expand and show all its lustre ;
but it is shut up for ever here, to blow, I trust, in a brighter
climate. Young as she was, she has seen perhaps the best of
life. Like Young's Narcissa, 'she sparkled, was exhaled, and
went to heaven.' No long sickness to wear the mind as well
as body ; none of the decays incident to a more advanced
period ; she leaves life, it is true, in all its freshness, but with-
out having tasted its cares or sorrows. And is it not something
to have raised and cultivated such a mind ] Is she not fitter
for another state, with higher powers than many a one who
has passed sixty years of a drowsy existence 1 Oh, but I think
I hear you say, the mother's heart must bleed. It must ; I
know it. God comfort you, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, and Mr.
Fletcher, and all your family ! Your mind will turn, I know
it will, to the promising children you still have. One jewel
has fallen from your maternal crown, but many remain ; you
are still rich. May God enable you to bear what He has laid
upon you !"
To Mrs. Stark
"PARK HALL, April 30th, 1817.
; " MY DEAR FRIEND, I do know what you have all felt for
us, for you were among the few who knew what we have lost.
Your kindness in offering to come to me at that dreadful time
will never be forgotten. Time may and will do much, not in
removing her from our hearts, but in enabling us to take an
interest in present things, and softening those recollections
which are now so overpowering. Even now you no, not you,
LETTERS TO MRS. STARK AND MISS A I KIN. 131
but those who do not know what grief is ; grief made up of
tenderness and affectionate sorrow without one atom of bitter-
ness would be astonished at our composure, and doubt whether
we had yet begun to feel. Yes, my dear friend, I must see
you at Park Hall. Perhaps you can come to us the latter end
of next week, when Mr. Fletcher and my sons return to Edin-
burgh to meet Bessy and Mary, who are to join us here about
the 16th of May. Bessy and her children are to spend the
summer with us, and our poor Mary needs the comfort of her
home, such as it now is. She is a very precious child, and
Margaret my generous, kind-hearted Margaret what should
we have done without her ? God Almighty bless you ! Write
to me, dear friend. Yours, K FLETCHER."
From Mrs. Fletcher to Miss Aikin.
"PARK HALL, June 23d, 1817.
" If I were to delay writing to my dear Miss Aikin till my
paper should be unblotted by my tears, I know not when I
should write to her.
" I have to the utmost of my power, both for my own sake
and for the sake of those who are very dear to me, resisted all
unreasonable indulgence of grief. I have endeavoured to
derive consolation from all those considerations which you and
the rest of my affectionate and sympathizing friends have
suggested from the elevation of her character, from her
purity, sweetness and heavenly-mindedness ; but there is so
much tenderness associated with every recollection of her life,
that my very pleasures are now so many sorrows, since she can
no longer share them with me. Perhaps there never was a
human being so much alive to enjoyment. This is a feeling
of thankfulness of which nothing can deprive me the un-
alloyed happiness of her life. There never was one so ardent
and so sensitive who knew so little sorrow. Had she lived,
this uninterrupted happiness could not have continued, but
this, while it ought to reconcile me to the dispensations of
Providence, and while it takes from my loss all its bitterness,
adds powerfully to the tenderness of my regrets. The energy
and activity of her mind during the last six months of her
132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
life were remarkable. She had applied herself diligently to
Italian literature. She painted two portraits, one the copy of
a picture of young Wolfe Tone, and one of her father, which
last however she did not live to finish. She passed several
hours during three days of the week in the superintendence of
a Female Lancastrian School, and enlivened our domestic
circle by her invariable sweetness and cheerfulness of temper.
At her special request (made in consideration of her father's
delicate state of health) we neither gave nor accepted of invi-
tations to large parties during the whole winter, but enjoyed
the society of more intimate friends. She was truly grateful
for your distinguished kindness, and loved you with the sin-
cerest affection. With what pleasure and exultation she anti-
cipated the success of your historical work, and how proud
she was of your friendship ! She used to speak of her visit at
Stoke Newington as the most gratifying period of her life, and
repeatedly thanked me the very week before she was taken
ill for having promoted that journey ; but home and home
affections were her delights. The support I received from my
dear Margaret during that miserable fortnight can never be
described. She is worthy of your regard, worthy of having had
such a sister."]
Miss Clavering and her brothers paid us a visit that
summer at Park Hall, 1817, and arrangements were made
for her marriage to our dear son Miles, which was to take
place in the December following. Miles's tenderness of
feeling came out towards me in a marked manner during
this mournful summer, and contributed much to soothe my
grief.
PART III.
ON the 27th December 1817, Miles and Miss Clavering
were married at Ardincaple Castle, Lord John Campbell's
residence. Lady Augusta Clavering and her daughter had
lived there for some years.
Miles took his very lovely bride from this lordly castle
to his father's homely dwelling at Park Hall, where they
remained until the winter Session began, when they took
possession of the house in Queen Street which had been
settled on them as part of the dowry by Lady Augusta,
who showed great kindness to and sympathy with her
daughter in this marriage of affection.
We mixed little that winter of 1817-18 in general
society, and went as early as we could to spend the last
summer we were to be at Park Hall. Mr. Fletcher found
it was most expedient to part with that property. It
involved him in money difficulties, having now more claims
upon him than he could easily meet. Miles, on whose
account he chiefly wished to retain this estate, assisted me
much in persuading his father to sell it; and we both
rejoiced in the repose of mind which was gained by parting
with this favourite but expensive farm.
My husband continued to take the liveliest interest in
public affairs, and employed his daughters by turns in
writing for him, both on Borough Eeform and other
subjects, to his dictation, after he gave up his clerk, In
134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
this way he was of use to many poor clients who consulted
him, and prevented many lawsuits by advising them to
arrange their affairs by arbitration. And here I must
remark, how much it contributes to happiness and indepen-
dence of mind in aged persons to have some object of
science or literature that lightens the lassitude of daily life,
and gives animation to existence beyond the family circle,
when age or infirmity prevents any active participation
either in the business or the pleasures of life.
The science of politics, which, according to my husband's
views, may be called the wellbeing of mankind on earth,
when unmixed with sordid or selfish aims, seems to me to
elevate the mind above every other science. I mean that
enlarged view of political wisdom which is unfettered by
party spirit, untainted by selfish or personal views, and
has its foundation in a profound love of mankind, and a
desire to promote, not only their happiness, but their moral
and spiritual good, by keeping justice and mercy constantly
in view. Such were my husband's politics ; and neither
age nor infirmity abated the interest he took in every
measure which had public good and enlightened freedom
for its object.
[These remarks were written in 1844 ; and such being her
feeling about my father's public life, it may be imagined with
what delight she afterwards read the cordial tribute to his
character in Cockburn's " Life of Jeffrey," and also in the
" Memorials of his Time." I seem to see her countenance before
me, as one of my brightest recollections, when I read to her,
in May 1856, the following sentence from the 261st page of
Lord Cockburn's book : " The pure and heroic Fletcher knew
not what jealousy was, and would have cheered on a personal
enemy, if he had had one, provided he was going before him
in the public cause."
In looking back on our father's dignified and benevolent old
age, I think none of his children can recollect a single expression
LONDON SOCIETY, MRS. FRY AND NEWGATE. 135
of wounded pride or disappointed ambition escaping from him
in the almost daily discussion of public events, great or small,
which took place in our family circle.
During the few years we remained in Edinburgh after the
first great sorrow of her life, Grace's death, our mother with-
drew in great measure from general society and large parties,
and gave the time and strength thus gained to an increased
occupation among the poor and needy. During this time
she gave much time to attendance at the office of the Beg-
gar's Society, where the benevolent John Forbes (afterwards
Lord Medwyn) and she first came into close personal acquaint-
ance.
My mother used to say it was very pleasant to her to see
the good Tories she met there smile upon her in her endeavours
to do good, and how much even party rancour died away in the
common interest felt in the sufferings of the poor.]
During this summer of 1819, Margaret, Mary, and I
went to London ; Mr. Fletcher preferred remaining at
Tadcaster. We saw many very interesting people. We
passed some days of great interest with dear Mrs. Barbauld
at Stoke Newington, admiring her for her genius, and
loving her for the truthfulness and kindliness of her dis-
position and the sweetness of her manners. We had also
the privilege of passing some days with Joanna Baillie and
her sister, at Hampstead. The remarkable simplicity of
Joanna's manners, and entire absence of all pretension,
struck niy daughters much, and while they were awed by
the meekness with which she bore her faculties, they
admired and loved her. Mrs. Opie and Jane Porter also
passed before us, as dissolving views; along with the Smiths
of " The Rejected Addresses," the Miss Berrys and Sir
Lumley Skeffingtons of the day. It was on this visit to
London that we had the happiness to pass some hours in
Newgate with Mrs. Fry. We heard her read and expound
to the female prisoners the third chapter of St. John's
136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Gospel. Her voice was melody itself, and the earnest
sweetness with which she explained the doctrine of re-
generation to her attentive hearers found its way directly
to their hearts; many of them shed tears, and all were
attentive and appeared deeply interested. She conducted
us through the different wards. The women flocked round
her, several of them telling her their little wants, and
expressing their gratitude for what she had told them.
She lent a kindly ear to their complaints, and it was plain
her sympathy and kindness did them good. The faces
of many who did not speak revealed this. Robert Owen,
the notorious socialist, accompanied us to Newgate. He
was then intimate with Mrs. Fry, and we had known him
for many years. He had always appeared to us a bene-
volent and zealous reformer, and we bore with the intense
though quiet egotism of his conversation from the belief
that he had the good of his fellow-creatures at heart. He
had not then openly avowed those opinions, so fatal to
moral and religious truth and happiness, which he has
since so unfortunately promulgated. It would be unfair
perhaps to refuse him credit for wishing to promote the
present good of mankind, but when he cannot but perceive
that a consideration for present good, even when accom-
panied by a belief in a Divine Judge, is not sufficient to
enable man to regulate his passions and abstain from evil,
how is it likely that when those restraints are removed, as
Owen desires, the sovereignty of reason alone, a vegetable
diet, and one loose garment, will transform the human race,
as he expects, from misery to happiness ]
The same day we visited Newgate Robert Owen took us
to call on William Godwin, the celebrated author of " Politi-
cal Justice." Godwin, then an interesting-looking old man,
lived at a small bookseller's shop on Ludgate Hill, with a
figure of -^Esop above the door. We sat half an hour with
LORD ERSKIN&S VISIT TO EDINBURGH. 137
this mild philosopher. His countenance was benevolent,
as were his writings. Thirty years before the time we saw
him, his " Political Justice " was thought to have allayed
the insurrectionary fever produced, as some imagined, by
the writings of Thomas Paine ; but now that the days of
alarm were over, Godwin was more known as the author
of " Caleb Williams " and " St. Leon " than as a political
writer. He had a beautiful portrait of Mary Wollstone-
craft, by Opie, above the chimney-piece of his little parlour.
We were pleased with our interview with this distinguished
man and very eloquent writer.
We all rejoined Mr. Fletcher, well satisfied with the
sights of London and its environs. Dear Mary remained
that winter with our aunt.
[To her daughter Mary from E. F.
"EDINBURGH, January 1820.
" We despatched the Scotsman for you on Saturday, which
would afford you much amusement. We have been greatly
complimented and congratulated by our friends on your father's
appearance at the meeting in honour of Lord Erskine's arrival
in Edinburgh. Miles says that when his father appeared
there on the platform there were thunders of applause, and his
speech was much cheered, especially that part of it relating to
his being one of the thirty-eight who had the honour of voting
for the Honourable Henry Erskine, when he was expelled from
the Deauship of the Faculty of Advocates because he presided
at a public meeting held to petition against the continuation of
the war.
" On Friday morning we were honoured by a visit from Lord
Erskine. He sat with us more than an hour, and was very
agreeable and entertaining. He has a strong family likeness
to his late brother, 1 but is less gay, bland, and engaging ; his
countenance bears strong marks of a life of great emotion,
of much wear and tear. He is less courteous than his brother
i Honourable Henry Erskine.
138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Henry ; his manners are plainer. We talked of the State trials
in which he was formerly engaged. He asked me if I had
ever read his speech on the trial of Williams, the publisher of
Paine's ' Age of Reason.' He was engaged by the Society
for the Prevention of Vice as counsel for the prosecution. He
got a verdict against Williams, which proved, he said, that there
was no occasion to make new laws against blasphemous publi-
cations. A few days after the trial, as he was walking through
Holborn, a woman seized him by the skirts of his coat, and
dragged him to a miserable room, where Williams the book-
seller was laid on a sick-bed with three children in the confluent
small-pox. He was so much struck with the poverty and
wretchedness of the man's condition that he wrote to the Society
for the Prevention of Vice, telling them that, as they had
gained a verdict prohibiting the sale of Paine's blasphemous
book, now there was a noble opportunity to show a truly
Christian spirit, by praying the Court to mitigate the punish-
ment of this miserable man, already afflicted with disease and
poverty. The Society, he said, wrote him a letter full of
compliments, but declined to relinquish their victim. The
next day their agent called on Lord Erskine with a brief and
fee, desiring him to crave the judgment of the Court upon
Williams. He refused to take the fee, and asking for his brief,
he drew his pen through the retainer as counsel for that Society,
because 'they loved judgment rather than mercy.' He said
he had lately found some of his speeches on this trial in a
pedlar's basket, and he left us one of them. It is a most
eloquent defence of Christianity from the attacks of infidels. I
should mention that Williams was sentenced to two years'
imprisonment."
To the Same.
" February 1820.
" Lord Erskine called with Lord Buchan on Saturday, and
sat a long time. He has a fund of amusing political anecdote.
It was he who introduced the present King to Lady Hertford ;
and it is, he says, to this unfortunate introduction that many
of the disastrous measures of the Regency are owing, for she
SUMMER AT CALLANDER. 139
governs the King with despotic sway. When Lady Hugh
Seymour died, she left the guardianship of her only daughter
to Mrs. Fitzherbert. The testamentary guardian applied to
Lord Eldon as Chancellor to take the child from Mrs.
Fitzherbert, on the ground of her being a Roman Catholic.
Lord Eldon pronounced judgment in favour of this separation,
it being contrary to the law of England that a Catholic should
be appointed guardian to a Protestant child. The Prince
Regent sent for Lord Erskine, and said that it would be the
death of Mrs. Fitzherbert and the child if they were separated.
Lord Erskine advised the Prince to apply to I^ady Hertford to
use her influence with her husband, the eldest uncle of the
child, to allow her to remain with Mrs. Fitzherbert. He did
so, and from this accidental acquaintance has arisen the influence
Lady Hertford has obtained over the mind of his present
Majesty. This 'is a curious piece of secret Court history.
Lord Erskine attributes to this his Majesty's change of politics,
the continuance of the French war, and in short all the
disastrous measures of the Regency."]
As the spring approached, now that we were free of
Park Hall, and also of the Court of Session, we were more
able to wander, and our excellent friend Mrs. Grant of
Laggan recommended Callander to us as a pleasant
residence within easy reach of many Highland beauties ;
and early in the summer of 1820 we took a house called
the Old Manse at Callander.
I think it was the end of June 1820 that we took
possession of our summer quarters. I remember the beauty
and courtesy of our hostess, Mrs. Campbell, a young widow,
impressed us favourably on our first arrival, and the
appearance of her house was more comfortable-looking than
we expected to meet with in those days. There was a
little green bank sloping down to the clear bright waters
of the river Teith, in front of the house. The course of
that beautiful river was more flowing and gentle at that
place than either above or below our house, but still it had
140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
enough of life, " to discourse most eloquent music," and we
took it to our hearts at once. We were then a large family
party, and our one spare room was seldom untenanted.
We took exploring walks daily when the weather improved,
and each selected a favourite seat at the Eoman Camp, a
place full of wooded knolls and chequered shade, a short
distance from the town of Callander, then, before railway
days, a very primitive Border Highland village.
Our first visitor there was dear Mary Grant, who came
to refresh her soul in the Highland air she loved so dearly.
She was at that time more able to enjoy than I ever
remember to have known her. There had been some
respite in the family sorrows, and whether in grief or joy
she was equally welcome to all of us.
Our family party was often enlivened by the arrival of
agreeable English and American strangers, introduced to
us by different friends. I think it was that year we first
became acquainted with George Ticknor, 1 from Boston,
U.S., and a friend of his, Mr. Cogswell. We thought them
among the most cultivated and agreeable Americans we
had ever known, and have since kept up our friendship
by occasional correspondence with Mr. Ticknor. We also
saw a good deal of Mrs. Smith of Coniston, and " the
Joanna " and her sister, Mrs. Agnes Baillie, from Hamp-
stead, who were at Callander part of that summer, and
joined us in many exploring expeditions.
I should not take leave of this summer without recording
our pleasant intercourse with Farmer Buchanan, whose
character had more of the Lowland than of the Highland
type. He united the virtues of both great cultivation
and independence, with the courtesy of Highland manners.
He was a very fine specimen of human nature, and we used
to enjoy a talk with him much when he was binding up
1 Author of " Life of Prescott," and " History of Spanish Literature."
SUMMER A T CALLANDER. 141
his sheaves, or when the labours of the day were over he
returned to his cottage and the enjoyment of his books.
His knowledge of what was passing in the literary world was
kept up by his five sons, who had all been distinguished
students at Glasgow College. The only one who had
not shown any thirst for knowledge assisted him in his
farm. The others had all been sent off with their winter
supply of potatoes and meal to Glasgow, where, after the
first year, they never cost their parents anything, being able
to save by summer private tuition what defrayed their
expenses in winter. Farmer Buchanan's eldest son, who
afterwards became Professor of Logic at Glasgow College,
was, at the time I speak of, minister of Peebles, and came
during the summer to visit his parents, and delight him-
self in his old haunts about Callander. We heard him
preach a very beautiful sermon during this visit in the
parish church of Callander, and it was delightful to see
and to sympathize with the joy of the venerable Elder on
this occasion, and to watch his face in church.
One of the old man's chief pleasures we found to be
reading Milton, and so great a master was he of Gaelic
lore that he had translated several books of Paradise Lost
into Gaelic verse. Mr. Fletcher took to his Gaelic studies
again this summer with great zest, and we concluded the
pleasures of the summer by paying some visits to old
friends in Argyllshire, accompanied by our youngest son
and daughter, who enjoyed this introduction to the land of
their fathers as much as we could possibly desire. They
were then in the freshness of their youth, and were pro-
nounced by their Highland kinsmen to be worthy repre-
sentatives of the clan.
142 . AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[Letter to Jfrs. Stark, Edinburgh, 1820, after the
Callander summer.
" Mr. Fletcher had indeed a great triumph in making us com-
plete converts to what we used to think his partial estimate of
the Highland character. There is a kind of chivalrous romance
in it of which I had before no conception. I think this arises
from the absence of those gainful speculations which are open
to the operative and middling classes of the English and
Lowland Scotch. The gentry in the Highlands are not a bit
higher-toned than the same class elsewhere. It is the Highland
grazier and his clansmen the shepherds who count kindred to
men of high degree, and dwell on the ancient traditions of their
clan, till the whole character is elevated. A poor Highlander
has no counteraction to those feelings of hospitality by which
he is so much distinguished. This graceful quality is not
checked by sordid calculation of any kind, not even by making
a provision for his own old age ; he relies with affectionate
confidence on the provision his children will make for him,
when he can no longer climb the hill or gather the sheep into
the fold. The respect paid to old age is one of the most
beautiful features of the primitive state of society. Age is
not merely tolerated, but it is honoured. I saw a woman of
near eighty living in a neat cottage, with an acre of land and
a cow, purchased for her by five sons, who were simply High-
land shepherds." Proud she was, and well might she be so, of
her little possession. I never saw so much real virtue in
humble life as this view of society afforded me. It made me
detest poor-rates more than ever, and manufacturing districts ;
it made me, I fancy, a bad political economist, but a greater
lover than ever of my fellow-creatures."
From Mrs. Wolfe Tone Wilson to Mrs. Fletcher.
" GEORGE TOWN, September 23d, 1820.
" Yes, my beloved friend, you judge like yourself truly, nobly,
delicately. The warmth and sincerity of my affection for you can
never alter : it was sealed by sympathy ; but before that heart-
LETTER FROM MRS. WILSON. 143
rending sympathy existed, when you could sympathize with
sorrow without having tasted it, my love to you was founded
on esteem, on admiration of the pure and generous loveli-
ness of your mind, and its expanded, enlightened benevolence.
Speaking of you one day with Eliza Wilkes, I was observing
how well your appearance corresponded to your character, and,
amongst other follies, I said you were a full-blooded animal
of generous breed. Eliza laughed, and said you really had the
qualities of a noble horse. I observed how delightful it would
be to investigate the world mounted on a horse of your
character. < Oh,' said Eliza, ' indeed I could never ride Mrs.
Fletcher.' 'Ride Mrs. Fletcher! ride Mrs. Fletcher!!' the
sound pulled up my ideas. Eliza went on saying, if you were a
horse she would put you in a park of clover. ... I instantly
sprang upon you, and declared you should never be condemned
to uselessness and plenty, and oh what a scamper I took with
you through the universe ! " a ]
The summer of 1821 we spent very pleasantly at
Coniston, in Mrs. Smith's cottage, opposite the gate of
Tent Lodge, which we had secured for three months.
This second residence at the Lakes, at the distance of
fifteen years, renewed our admiration and delight in the
scenery of that district.
I was then in vigorous health, and I remember, in a
pony expedition my two daughters and I took, escorted
by Joseph Harden, I generally rode foremost of the party,
by Hard Knot and Wry Nose to Wast Water, Calder
1 Mrs. Wolfe Tone Wilson was one of my mother's very dear friends,
and she says of her in a letter to me : " I admired and loved her for the
union of magnanimity and tenderness she possessed, and it will always be
a pleasing reflection to me that I believe my sympathy in all she had done
and suffered was some comfort to her when she came into a land of
strangers."
This lady was the widow of Theobald Wolfe Tone, and lived in Paris
till the return of the Bourbons, when she and her son went to America.
She married at this time her generous friend, Mr. Wilson, who gave up
his country and friends for her sake.
144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Abbey, Buttermere, and Borrowdale, and back to Coniston
across the Stake, which was thought, in those days, a
perilous adventure for female equestrians. It was upon
that expedition that I heard, with a degree of surprise
that amused me at the time, that the landlady at Calder
Bridge designated me as the " old lady." It was a whole-
some truth that flashed upon me : I was then fifty-one,
and had not begun to think myself an old woman. Our
visit to Seathwaite and the Duddon on this occasion
interested us much. Wordsworth's Notes to his " Sonnets
on the Duddon " had made us acquainted with the simple
annals of Robert Walker, who exercised the office of priest,
schoolmaster, will-maker, wool-spinner, and brewer of ale
for the whole village. Mrs. Smith's kindness and hospi-
tality towards us could not be exceeded. She had many
jokes with my daughters at my expense, as she thought I
exceeded in attempting the duties of hospitality in so small
a dwelling. Her graceful wit amused me, but did not
improve me on the points she desired exclusiveness as to
society. She loved my children, and I was not jealous to see
them more than rival me in her affection and admiration.
It was this summer we became intimate with Mrs.
George Martin and her daughter, Mrs. Buckle. The latter
was then lately married, and, with her husband and mother,
enjoying a first acquaintance with the Lake district. The
ladies were most agreeable and cultivated people. They
were nearly connected with the good old Whig Member
for Tewkesbury, James Martin.
The intimacy formed at this time led to much after-
intercourse and enjoyment to my daughters, who paid
them frequent visits in Gloucestershire, and saw many
interesting places and people in a part of England they
had before been unacquainted with. Many points of
sympathy attracted us to each other. They were not at
MRS. CRAIK AND ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 145
all political, but they were simple in their habits and
tastes, entirely free from that false estimate of things
which so many persons inherit who are born in a good
social position, and so many assume who are not so born,
and who think it necessary to keep up appearances at all
times and seasons, and thus lose a great deal of innocent
enjoyment. Mrs. Buckle had great artistic powers, and
her mother was an excellent botanist, and one of the most
refined, unselfish, and cultivated persons we have ever
known, a very fine type of the English lady of the old
school.
It was during this summer of 1821 I heard of the
sudden death of one of my oldest and dearest Manor
School friends, Mrs. Craik of Arbigland. She was a
woman of excellent talents and very warm affections. We
loved each other truly at school, and ever after 'cultivated
a friendship which contributed much to each other's hap-
piness. We had the comfort to know the same feeling
descended to our children. After her marriage to Mr. Craik
of Arbigland (a beautiful place on the Solway, about fifteen
miles from Dumfries), we frequently took that route either
to or from our visits to Yorkshire. It might be about the
year 1810 or 1812, when returning from a walk, that Mrs.
Craik directed my attention to some young masons who
were engaged in the erection of some stone pillars of a new
gateway in the approach to the house of Arbigland. She
said, " One of these young men is, I do not say a Burns, but
certainly no inconsiderable poet ; you must find out which
it is." I looked for a few moments at each, while she was
speaking to them, and at once decided that the tall,
thoughtful, stalwart youth who gave respectful attention
to what she was saying was the poet of the party. It was
Allan Cunningham, and from that time he and I became
fast friends. I found some of his MS. songs on my table
K
146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
when I went to my room at night. When he came to
Edinburgh to improve himself in his trade, we were able
to be of use to him in supplying him with books and giving
him introductions ; but he made his own way by his wisdom
and good sense, as well as by his talents, steadily and con-
tinuously. He was engaged at that time to marry an
excellent young woman well known to Mrs. Craik, and he
was soon able to fulfil his engagement ; and a better wife
no poet ever had. Allan's career in London is well known.
He wisely secured for himself a certain income as Chan-
trey's secretary and the superintendent of his works, and
gave his leisure time to the cultivation of literature and
composition.
\To Allan Cunningham.
"EDINBURGH, April 15th, 1820.
" MY DEAR SIR, You must not judge of the pleasure your
letter gave me by my dilatoriness in answering it. You are
right in saying that I am interested in your pursuits, and
rejoice in your happiness. Of all the persons I saw in my last
summer's visit to London, I know not one whose temper of
mind, and condition altogether, pleased me so much as yours
did, I saw you pursuing an occupation the most elegant and
tasteful, I saw you high in the estimation of a man whose
genius you revere ; your children were playing round you,
your wife had the countenance of a happy and contented
woman, your home bespoke comfort and respectability, and
all that you possessed you owed to your own talents and
industry. You preserved the erect independence of your char-
acter, and were the same honourable and unsophisticated being
as when I first knew you. The stirrings of ambition you
speak of have rather stimulated than misled you. I hope they
will continue to spur you on, but never take the rein from the
hands of your better judgment.
" The information you give me of Mr. Chantrey's observations
in Italy, and your own comparison between his endowments and
those of the Koman artist, pleased and instructed me extremely.
LETTER TO ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 147
I never had an opportunity of seeing any of the works of
Canova but the one you showed me ; and certainly the impres-
sion it made was far short of that produced by the matchless
work of Mr. Chantrey, which we saw afterwards at Litchfield.
I shall be glad to know if you have had leisure or inclination
to retouch and remodel your ' Geraldine.' Have you any
thoughts of visiting Scotland this summer 1 We have taken a
cottage on the banks of the Teith near Callander, where we go
the first week in June, and propose remaining there till October.
My address will be Mansfield, near Callander, Perthshire. We
shall be in the midst of that beautiful scenery described by
Sir Walter Scott. The King has done himself honour by con-
ferring the title on a man of genius. Mr. Campbell writes to
me that he has a poem on the anvil but he is going to spend
the summer with his family on the banks of the Rhine, where
his imagination will be assisted by the magnificent scenery of
nature. Let us hear from you in Perthshire. Write to me of
your family, and of all that interests you. Remember me very
kindly to your amiable wife, and give my blessing to your
children. If I were nearer to them I would recommend them
to read Mrs. Barbauld's prose hymns, the best book I know
for cultivating devotional taste and feelings. Farewell, dear
Allan. Go on as you have begun, and you need envy none of
the great ones of the earth. I am, your faithful friend,
"EuzA FLETCHER.
" MR. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM,
Eccleston Street, Pimlico, London."]
Before Allan Cunningham left Dumfries I had introduced
Mr. Cromek to him, who was going to that district in
search of ballad lore ; and this led to the curious literary
fraud which my friend Allan confessed to Sir Walter Scott
about this time, when he was sitting for his bust to
Chantrey, and also to me, in an interesting letter, which I
have since returned to his family. In that letter, Allan
said that he was so piqued by Cromek's manner of receiv-
ing some of his own songs which he took to him, that he
148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
composed the ballads he had been employed by Cromek
to collect, and these actually form the greatest part of the
Nithsdale and Galloway songs. On hearing this, Sir
Walter courteously replied, " I always suspected this, Mr,
Cunningham ; they are far too good to be old."
The stirring public event of this summer was the
approaching Coronation of George the Fourth. Then
followed the tragic death of Caroline of Brunswick, whose
previous persecutions and death on the 7th August had
called forth the generous feeling of England, and the
popular burst of indignation against her husband found
an honest response even in the Tory heart of the graceful
lady of Tent Lodge, as well as among her tenants of the
cottage. It was well, perhaps, for the peace of our inter-
course that summer that such was the case.
Led by Mrs. Smith, who was a sort of queen at that
time of the society she lived in, we attended a ball at
Ambleside, annually given as the gaiety of the district, at
the Salutation Hotel, and testified our sense of Queen
Caroline's wrongs by going in somewhat grotesque mourn-
ing procured at the little town of Hawkshead. My
daughters have often since declared it was the most
amusing ball they ever attended.
My aunt Dawson's health was at that time so infirm, that
Mr. Fletcher kindly proposed that we should spend the
following winter at York, so as to prevent the necessity of
a divided family ; and this was rendered more easy as Angus
had been indulged with a foreign tour, after the conclu-
sion of his clerkship, and before entering on his professional
life as a solicitor. A house was taken for us in the Minster
Yard at York, where my husband and part of the family
established themselves after we left Coniston ; while I, with
my two unmarried daughters, went to pay a visit to my
dear old friend Miss Kennedy, near Manchester, and also
MISS KENNEDY. T. E. CURRIE. 149
to Mrs. Greg of Quarry Bank, in Cheshire, where, after
the lapse of many years, I found the same hospitality,
benevolence, and cultivation which had struck me many
years before during my first visit. The large family of
boys and girls had now grown up. The sons were
travelled men, full of pursuit and intelligence. Grandchil-
dren were there to enliven the scene of this patriarchal
household ; death had not then visited that happy home.
At Miss Kennedy's pleasant little villa I renewed my
intercourse with Dr. Henry and his agreeable wife, whom
I had known well in Edinburgh when he came to study
there, after his marriage to a niece of Miss Kennedy.
Miss Kennedy had also asked her favourite T. E. Currie
to meet us at her house. He was the youngest son of Dr.
Currie of Liverpool, the biographer of Burns ; and it was
a great pleasure to us to see our pet " Eobin " (as we used
to call him, from his bright eyes and confiding nature)
expanded both in mind and form, from a somewhat silent
youth of eighteen into a most intelligent and agreeable
man of twenty-one. He was then a Cambridge student,
and accompanied us to Quarry Bank, to meet his honoured
friend Professor Smyth of Cambridge, who was staying
at Quarry Bank at the time, and with whom our " Eobin "
was evidently a great favourite.
We did not find the society of York comparable in point
of variety or intelligence to that of Edinburgh. We saw a
good deal of Sydney Smith, who was frequently in York
" for a short course of noise, dirt, and bad air," as he ex-
pressed it, and, as usual, he made incomparable mirth out
of my alleged love of revolutions, and his society was
certainly a great alleviation ; to what there might be of
stagnation in the air of the cathedral city. Mr. Wrang-
ham and his family were also very agreeable ; and a
Highland family (the M'Leans of Coll) made a pleasant
1 50 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
addition to the circle that winter, besides being old friends
of ours.
[From Mrs. Fletcher to Allan Cunningham.
HER REASONS ON PUBLIC GROUNDS FOR PREFERRING A BUST OF SIR
SAMUEL ROMILLT TO ONE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 1822.
" MY DEAR ALLAN, I am exceedingly glad that you com-
municated the history of this curious volume (' The Nithsdale
and Galloway Songs ') to Sir Walter Scott. No man more
generously and liberally knows how to estimate the merits of
contemporary genius. He does, indeed, possess too large a
share of that imperishable gift to envy other men's possessions.
No one can admire his powers of invention, his matchless
vigour of imagination, playfulness of fancy, and quick percep-
tion of all the varieties of human character more than I do,
and yet will you not think me ungrateful for all the amuse-
ment and delight his writings have afforded me, when I say
that if you do send me a present of a cast of one of Mr.
Chantrey's busts, I had rather it were one of Sir Samuel
Eomilly than Sir Walter Scott 1
" You must find a solution of this puzzling preference in the
importance which my husband and I attach to the public
principles of public men. I believe Sir Walter Scott to be an
excellent private character, as well as a man of consummate
genius, but then he is a writer in support of public principles
which we think injurious to the purity, dignity, and elevation
of the national character, while Sir Samuel Romilly spent the
whole of his valuable life in advocating that cause and those
principles which have raised England to the high rank she
holds in the scale of nations. What is it that has made our
country great, but that the Government has always been in-
fluenced by public opinion ? You may say, perhaps, Will you
prefer a bust of Lord Byron, whose sentiments are those of
ultra- Whiggism ] I answer, No, because Lord Byron has
trampled on private morals, and shamefully violated the
charities of private life, and not all his powerful genius can
redeem him from dishonour."]
GEORGE IV. IN EDINBURGH. 151
"\Vhen we returned to Edinburgh, in the summer of
1822, the whole community there, rich and poor, were agog
in expectation of a visit from George the Fourth. He
appeared there in August ; and if he had been the wisest,
bravest, and most patriotic of kings that ever wore a crown,
he could not have been received with more loyal devotion
than was shown him by the good town of Edinburgh. My
sons were both called upon to get up their military duties
and accoutrements, for the occasion of the public entry into
Edinburgh from Leith. I went with my three daughters
to a window above Trotter's shop, in Princes Street, to see
the royal cavalcade come down St. Andrew Street to cross
the Calton Hill to Holy rood. It was certainly a most im-
posing and gorgeous sight ; but it was not the gilded coach
or the fat gentleman within it which made it an affecting
one : it was the vast multitude assembled some said a
hundred thousand people animated by one feeling of
national pride and pleasure in testifying their loyalty to
their Sovereign. Sir Walter Scott had so admirably
arranged the reception, that the poorest and humblest of
his subjects had an opportunity afforded them of bowing
to their King. Mrs. Grant of Laggan, a great lover of
Kings, was of our party. The good old lady had, for this
joyous occasion, put off her habitual black dress, and robed
herself in a salmon-coloured satin, and, with the rest of
the party, waved her handkerchief as the King appeared.
They had all a good laugh at my expense, who, somewhat
notorious for being no lover of Kings, was actually detected
shedding tears and waving my handkerchief " like the
lave," as the pageant passed. The fact is, I have always
found the sight and cheer of a multitude, when animated
by one kindly or patriotic feeling, quite irresistible in its
power to command my sympathy and make me weep ; and,
for the time, it is an exciting and pleasurable feeling. I
1.VJ AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
have never soon a multitude mischievously assembled, or
disposed to evil, and hope the inexplicable emotion I have
acknowledged would not lead me to follow "a multitude
in doing evil."
Mr. Fletcher was then so infirm in health that we wished
to persuade him to go quietly with us to Princes Street to
see the procession ; but no he insisted on taking his seat
on the platform prepared tor the gentlemen of the Bar, and
cheered the chief magistrate of a free people with all his
heart.
And here I must record an instance of Highland grati-
tude creditable to the feelings of that country. A valued
servant of ours, who had married from our house, and who
then lived in the High Street, had two or three windows
to the front, and, some time before the King came, I asked
her to let us have one of them to see his Majesty's proces-
sion on its way from Holyrood to the Castle. Before the
King came, however, I heard that all the windows in his
line of progress were letting at high prices, from five to
ten pounds for each window. Not being willing or able
to pay any such sum for looking at a King, I called to
release Mrs. M from her promise, and begged she would
let her windows for the best price she could get. The
warm-hearted woman said, with tears of emotion, " 'Deed
no, Mrs, Fletcher ; if you won't come to the window, it
must stand empty." Of course we went to her window,
not daring to offer payment for it, but contriving to re-
munerate her in some other way. Alas ! what contrasts
did her home on that day of the procession exhibit ; her
only child then, her little Mary (called after my Mary),
was in it cradle dying of exhaustion from whooping-cough.
and she watching by it in hopeless grief, while the tumul-
tuous acclamations of the people as the royal corltg* moved
slowly to the Castle Hill filled the air with rejoicing.
SIR WALTER SCOTT. CRABBE THE POET. 153
Mr. Glassford, an intimate friend of Sir Walter Scott,
was walking with us past Sir Walter's door in Castle Street
when he was ringing his own bell, having just returned
from Holyrood, where the King had held a levee. " Well,
Sir Walter," said Mr. Glassford, " what does the King say
of his good town of Edinburgh 1" "Say!" said Sir
Walter, " he says, ' I always heard the Scotch were a proud
people ; and they may well be proud, for they are a nation
of gentlemen, and they live in a city of palaces.' " It was
a kingly speech ; and, indeed, it was a gorgeous sight to
walk about the streets of our " ain romantic town " in those
days of well-organized festivity. It was during that festive
time I had the pleasure of renewing a personal acquaintance
with my old friend, the poet Crabbe. He was on a visit
to Sir Walter Scott, a few doors from us. It was in the
year 1788 that he and his wife passed some days at my
father's house along with Mr. Cartwright. At that time
he was a slender, pensive-looking man, about thirty ; in
1822, when we met again, he was a white-haired, interest-
ing old man, old-looking for his years, but his cheerfulness
had improved with his fame and fortune, for he was then
one of the most popular and admired poets of the day, and
in comparatively affluent circumstances. He had, indeed,
lost a treasure of a wife not many years after I first knew
them. She left him two excellent sons, and they were the
solace of his latter years. His son George was his biogra-
pher, and a more interesting record of the struggles and
triumphs of genius in overcoming adverse circumstances
can nowhere be met with. Mr. Crabbe had evidently as
much pleasure as I had in the recollection of our first
acquaintance, and came whenever he had an hour to spare
for a quiet talk about old times. He honoured us with
his company at dinner several times, and one day met at
our table the celebrated Mrs. Somerville, whose unaffected
154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
simplicity of manners was as remarkable as her uncommon
attainments in science. My much-loved friend, Mrs. Wolfe
Tone Wilson, and her son, William Wolfe Tone, were also
of the party that day. They were for some time in
Edinburgh that summer on a visit from America. I still
found in Mrs. Wolfe Tone the same vigour and originality
of mind, with as much warmth and tenderness of heart, as
in my former intimacy with that delightful Avoman. She
was happier because her son, the idol of her heart, was with
her ; but they thought our good town had gone daft about
George the Fourth.
[One of the diverting incidents of this period occurred during
a forenoon visit when Mr. Crabbe and young Tone met at our
house. Tone was sitting with us when the old poet was
announced, and he had scarcely taken his seat in his quiet
composed manner when Tone rushed towards him, went down
on one knee, took his hand, kissed it, and, without saying a
word, resumed his chair. When he went away we explained
to Mr. Crabbe who he was, and that his Irish blood and
French education accounted for this departure from ordinary
manners. It seemed a relief to the gentle old man to find
" that the young gentleman was not out of his mind."
Note from George Crabbe to Mrs. Fletcher in August 1822.
" MY DEAR LADY, I have now more time to reply to your
obliging note, and yet know not what more I can say. I
deferred my answer because I was uncertain with respect to my
engagements, and would not write till the last minute, in the
hope that I might indulge myself and accept the invitation
which you so obligingly placed in my way, but not entirely in
my power.
" We cannot always, my dear madam, as you are well assured,
do that which we would. I meet with nothing but kindness
in Edinburgh, but how often does it happen that even kindness
prevents us the doing as we would!
" I am convinced that I make very awkward apologies ; nay,
LETTER TO MRS. STARK. 155
apologies they are not, and I am quite sure that I am writing
to a lady who comprehends all that I would say.
" It would have been highly pleasing to me if I could have
heard Mr. Alison preach, and to have been introduced to a
gentleman of whom I know so much, and of whom so much
remains to be known. I will not dwell upon my disappoint-
ment.
" Let me at least take this occasion of giving you my best
thanks for the kind attention which you have shown to me.
I am very sure that while I remember anything I shall
remember that I remain, my dear lady, your old friend,
" GEORGE OR ABBE.
" 39 NORTH CASTLE ST."
This note from the poet Crabbe, written from the celebrated
"poor 39 Castle Street," where Walter Scott lived so long, is
curious from showing the distraction produced in the mind of
a " quiet lion " when introduced suddenly into such a motley
scene as the time of the King's visit to Edinburgh presented.
It shows, too, such a complete difference in the style of note-
writing, having much of the stately stiffness of the dedications
of the days of Crabbe's youth, and not being able to depart
from that, even in the prevailing bustle which might have
excused a shorter apology.
To Mrs. Starlcfrom E. F.
"EDINBURGH, 1822.
"We grieve more than I can express for the alarming state
of our dear T. E. Currie. I have never known a loftier or
purer mind, or a warmer heart than his.
" We always admired and esteemed him highly when he was
a student here three years ago, but last autumn he stayed with
us at dear Miss Kennedy's, and the intimacy of domestic inter-
course made us feel towards him a much livelier interest than
we had done before. He is a noble creature, a most unworldly
one, and though his imagination and buoyancy of spirit imaged
out successful and bright prospects, the delicacy of his charac-
ter and the sensibility of his temperament would have dis-
qualified him for the rough conflicts of life. He is better
156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
fitted for the world to which he is going than for the one he
leaves ; but bright hopes go with him, and I am very sad for
those he leaves behind to mourn such a loss."]
In the winter of 1822 and 1823 I had prevailed upon
some friends to join me in an attempt to reform some young
delinquents in a House of Refuge. This had been a
favourite project of mine for many years, and I do not
remember any work of usefulness in which I ever engaged
with more heart and hope. It was my thought night and
day how these poor boys, the children of wicked parents,
themselves nurtured in crime, might be reclaimed from
their evil ways. It pleased God to prosper the under-
taking. For several years Lady Carnegie of Dairy House
was the main support and encourager of it. Circumstances
which neither she nor I could control led to its being
merged into a larger Institution, but during the seventeen
years our small experiment in Dairy Lane existed, 116
boys had been admitted from prison and Bridewell, of
whom the manager could give a most satisfactory account,
105 being reclaimed and having become useful members
of society. They were taught the trade of shoemaking,
and lived as one family under the kind rule of their master
and his wife.
In the spring of 1823 Maria Edge worth and her two
younger sisters spent some time in Edinburgh. We met
first at my dear friend and pastor's house, the Rev. Mr.
Alison. It was the first time I had been introduced to the
author of " Simple Susan," though we were not unknown
to each other, as she told me her brothers had often men-
tioned the agreeable society they met at our house when
they were students in Edinburgh. Miss Edgeworth's
personal appearance was not attractive ; but her vivacity,
good humour, and cleverness in conversation quite equalled
my expectations. I should say she was more sprightly
MARIA EDGEWOR7H. 157
and brilliant than refined. She excelled in the raciness
of Irish humour, but the great defect of her manner, as it
seemed to me, was an excess of compliment, or what in
Ireland is called " blarney ; " and in one who had moved in
the best circles, both as to manners and mind, it surprised
me not a little. She repelled all approach to intimacy on
my part by the excess of her complimentary reception of
me when we were first introduced to each other at Mr.
Alison's. I never felt confidence in the reality of what she
said afterwards. I do not know whether it was the absence
of good taste in her, or that she supposed I was silly and
vain enough to be flattered by such verbiage. It was the
first time in my life I had met with such over-acted civility;
but I was glad of an opportunity of meeting a person whose
genius and powers of mind had been exercised in benefit-
ing the world as hers have been. I feel sure from the
feeling of those friends who loved her, because they knew
her well, that had this been the case with me, I might
have been also one of her friends ; so that I only give my
impression as arising from that of society intercourse of a
very superficial kind. Miss Edgeworth and her two very
agreeable sisters were pleased to meet at our house Sir
Robert and Lady Liston. They accompanied us some
days after this to dine at Millburn Tower, the Listens'
country-house, near Edinburgh. Miss Edgeworth's varied
information and quick repartee appeared to great advantage
in conversation with the polished ex-ambassador of Con-
stantinople, who always reminded me of the couplet :
" Polite, as all his life in Courts had been ;
Yet good, as he the world had never seen."
In the month of June 1823 Mary accompanied her
friend Catherine Laycock to Yorkshire, where Margaret
had spent the winter, and soon after these dear sisters set
153 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
off with their great-aunt Mrs. Fretwell, the eldest daughter
of Mr. Hill, to pay a visit to our friends Mrs. Martin and
Mrs. Buckle, near Cheltenham.
My aunt, Mrs. Fretwell, was a singular character, highly
principled and highly prejudiced. She had an old-fashioned
notion of the authority to be exercised by age over youth,
and she set out by telling her young companions that she
must rule and they must obey. This was quite proper as
she franked them in her post-chaise ; and travelling only
two stages a day, and one of those before breakfast, they
had much time to explore the different towns they visited
in their progress. My daughters found her government a
very pleasant one ; in fact, she allowed them to have their
own way quite as much as they desired, and they parted
the best friends imaginable, at the house of her stepson, in
Worcestershire.
Mr. Fletcher's feverish attacks had been so frequent
during this winter, that soon after my daughters left us
we secured the best lodgings we could procure between
Dalkeith and Lasswade, and there my husband and I,
with Mrs. Taylor and her children, went for country air.
Mr. Fletcher's health soon improved, and we were kindly
attended to by our friends in the way of a supply of books
and morning visits. Our incommodious dwelling prevented
our enjoying any society otherwise; but I shall always feel
thankful to have been sent there, as it were, by the force
of circumstances, as it enabled me to be of some use to
three most deserving young people, the children of the
unprincipled market-gardener from whom we took our
house. We returned to town early in September, with
minds made up to take a more comfortable residence in
the country the following year.
LETTERS TO HER DAUGHTERS. 159
[From letters to her absent daughters relating to
the gardener 's family .
" CASTLE STREET, 1823.
" I had intended to write to you to-day from Almondale, but
have put it off till Monday, as your dear father had a slight
attack of fever, but is kindly desirous I should go to see Mrs.
Erskine. On the whole, he has been much better since we
came to our home comforts than he was the two wet, dismal
months we were at Viewfield, in which, however, we had some
gleams of sweet scenery and much repose, and our going there
I look upon as providential, since it has afforded us the oppor-
tunity of rescuing the two poor girls who were the victims of
their father's brutal tyranny. Through Miss Howell, I have got
one of them a situation as nursery-governess. Their brother's
gratitude to me is most touching, for coming between them
and their father's most unnatural cruelty. I think I gave
either you or Mrs. Martin a history of this interesting family,
where the virtues so peculiarly Scotch of self-denial, submis-
sion to severe hardship without repining, education and refine-
ment much beyond their condition, with considerable ambition
and aspiring thoughts on the brother's part form the con-
flicting elements of the character of this family. These are
also engrafted on deep piety, and such a sense of filial duty,
that although we have reason to think these young women
were often in danger of their lives from the drunken fury of
their father, they never once complained, or uttered a murmur
against him."
" ALMOXDALE, October 8, 1823.
" I came here on Monday, to enjoy, with dear Mrs. Erskine,
the last lingering days of autumn. They have been bright and
mild, and the colouring of the trees on the banks of this beau-
tiful river, 1 that rushes past the window where I am writing,
gives a richness and variety that belongs only to this season.
I left your father remarkably well ; he even proposed that I
should remain here till Friday; but I thought it best not to
try his patience too far, and am to return to-morrow.
1 The Almond.
160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
" Last night was the anniversary of the day Mr. Erskine
died, and my friend, who is a great observer of seasons, is
much depressed by the sad recollections of that event. She is
pious and amiable in no common degree ; but oh ! she is deso-
late. She has no children to expect home from Gloucester-
shire. I grieve for her want of objects on whom to dwell
with joy and thankfulness. Perhaps when the last hour comes
she will find it merciful to have so few ties to earth ; but
affections such as good children afford are not earthly they
are gifts of Heaven only bestowed to be fully enjoyed here-
after. God bless my two precious children, prays their affec-
tionate mother, E. FLETCHER."
Letters to her daughters absent in Gloucestershire.
"EDINBURGH, September llth, 1823.
" I received your very cheering letter last Saturday, the day
after I had despatched mine to Margaret ; and though I begin
my chat with you now, I think I shall not send it till after
Saturday's post, that I may leave room to reply to your next
letters. I can fully enter into your disappointment about
'The Fall of Jerusalem.' 1 It is impossible not to form
poetical expectations of a poet a beau-ideal which is, I believe,
less often realized on a slight acquaintance than any other il-
lusion of the imagination. I cherished it, forty years ago,
about Mason, and have not been cured after half a century's
experience of the fallacious nature of such expectations; but I
must hasten to tell you how highly and truly I have been
gratified by dining in company with Brougham and Denman.
It was last Monday this good fortune befell me. We had heard
they were at John Brougham's for a day or two, but had no
expectation of seeing them when Mrs. John Brougham called
early to ask your father and me to dinner that day, as they
wished Henry to see his old friends. I was at the meeting
of the Female Friendly Society at the time, with good Miss
Wilson, and deep in the accounts there, when Angus good-
naturedly came to tell me, as an answer was required. I came
home and wrote my acceptance, and your father's regrets in
1 By Mr. Milman, afterwards Dean of St. Paul's.
LETTERS TO HER DAUGHTERS. 161
not being able to go. Brougham met me most kindly and
cordially, but the party of twenty at dinner was too numerous
for general conversation, and I was not well set between Sir
John Beresford and Sir Alexander Keith, but Denman's face
opposite was a treat. I never -saw a more noble physiognomy,
morally and intellectually. He was silent. When the gentle-
men came up to the drawing-room, Brougham stationed him-
self beside me ; Dr. Thomson joined us; and I never heard a
more animated, pleasant, unforced conversation than that which
flowed on for more than an hour. One had but to touch the
string, and it always vibrated the very chord one wished. It
was not brilliant sayings or pointed bon-mots, it was informa-
tion given with frankness, energy, and good-nature. He said
he had met with Clarkson at Penrith, and bade him go and
tell Southey it was a shame that Negro Emancipation had never
once been advocated in the Quarterly Review; that Clarkson
told him he had got the promise of fifteen hundred petitions
from the principal towns in England in favour of that measure.
He said the friends of Emancipation were determined to debate
and divide the House upon every petition, so as to force Mini-
sters to adopt some efficient measure in the next session. He
said his Education Bill was rendered abortive by the prejudices
of the Dissenters in England, who refused to send their chil-
dren to schools where the parish minister had a veto on the
choice of the schoolmaster ; and the ministers of the Establish-
ment hated the Bill, because they were, generally speaking,
averse to educate the people at all, and were only driven to do
so by fear of the Methodists and other Dissenters. He said it
was proposed to bring forward individual cases and instances
of oppression and injustice exercised by magistrates and Orange-
men in Ireland, rather than argue any longer on general prin-
ciples of misgovernment in that country ; facts would produce
an effect upon the House when argument and reasoning were
disregarded. Brougham's manner of treating subjects of
interest is quite different from our Edinburgh Whigs. There
is no affected indifference on subjects of vital importance, no
contemptuous sneer at rational conversation. He speaks with
animation and deep interest on the subjects I have mentioned.
I met both Brougham and Denman next morning at breakfast
L
1 62 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
at Dr. Thomson's. Denman is the most graceful of human
beings ; admired Edinburgh extremely, but was still silent ;
looks deferentially at Brougham, and benevolently at every-
body. Brougham spoke with enthusiasm of Granville Sharp.
He said he had seen him dining on bread and cheese, while at
the same time he knew he was supporting many miserable
human beings. He (Granville Sharp) wrote some pamphlets
to prove that Melchisedek was Jesus Christ. His life was
divided between relieving the poor and oppressed, and expound-
ing the Revelations. Brougham seemed to have been greatly
amused with his simplicity. B. says the Opposition are never
so strong as when a Scotch job is brought before the House of
Commons. The English Tories are ashamed to defend them,
and generally slink away and leave the Minister to brave it
out as he best can, but (added he) Ireland is as much worse
than Scotland in political liberty as Scotland is worse than
England. He inquired after Miles in a tone and manner that
showed he liked him. Miles was much vexed he could not
attend the public dinner given this day at Glasgow to Brougham
and Denman, but his jury case of some importance was to come
on to-day at Inverary, and he could not leave it.
"Your delightful joint-letter arrived this morning. I sent
for it by eight o'clock, so impatient was I for it. It is truly
the food that feeds my spirits and sustains my cheerfulness.
I, too, have weary longings to have you both home again :
this increases upon me as the time approaches. Your father
keeps finely, and enjoys your letters as much as I do."
To her daughters Margaret and Mary } absent in
Gloucestershire.
"24th September 1823.
" While Bessie and I were sitting tete-a-tete on Sunday even-
ing, the children having just gone to bed, the door-bell rang,
and a gentleman, unannounced, was ushered into the drawing-
room. He walked close up to me, and it was not till his dark
countenance relaxed into a smile that I half screamed out
' Sinclair Cullen ! ' He had arrived in the mail that morning,
and was on his way to Kinfauns Castle. He sat with us an
LETTERS TO HER DAUGHTERS. 163
hour, and was much like what you saw of him in London, only
some shades less splenetic in his opinions of men and things.
He has, however, a hero, and I have therefore a hope he will
come right yet. His abstract of perfection is Sir Francis
Burdett. He says he is without a particle of selfishness ;
that it is a beautiful character calm, concentrated, benevolent,
and purely disinterested, entirely without vanity or personal
ambition ; that nothing disturbs the calmness of his temper
but acts of cruelty and injustice.
" Cullen called the next day, and met here accidentally the
Marquis and Marquise de Bossi. He is an expatriated Italian
patriot ; she, a Swiss lady, who has followed the fortunes of
the banished man, and came to marry him in England, for the
Holy Alliance, she said, would not permit him to marry in
Switzerland. They have established such a system of
espionage in that once free and happy country, that the
Marquis was obliged to change his name, and conceal himself
in a cottage near Geneva, and visit his betrothed bride by
stealth. She is the intimate friend of Sismondi, of whom she
speaks in terms of the warmest and most affectionate friend-
ship. Her broken English does not lessen the effect of her
eloquence. I never saw so engaging a foreigner. They like
Edinburgh so much, they talk of returning here for the
winter.
" Sinclair Cullen was to dine with us that day, and called to
say, if we would allow him, he would bring with him John
Cam Hobhouse, the M.P. for Westminster, whom he had met
accidentally in the street on his return from Lord Glenorchy's,
and being engaged to dine with us, Sinclair thought the addi-
tion of this ultra-Whig would be agreeable ; and so it proved.
Mr. Hobhouse is remarkably entertaining quick, lively, com-
municative ; not interesting (he is too much a man of the
world for that), not nearly so commanding and impressive as
Brougham, or so dignified as Denman. He remembered dining
here and meeting young Betty the actor in 1804. He told us
many diverting stories, the most tragi-comic of which was the
narrative of Shelley's death, which he had heard from Lord
Byron. [As this is now so well known, it is omitted here.
The letter goes on :] Mr. Hobhouse had a letter the other day
164 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
from Lord Byron, saying that ten thousand pounds would save
the liberties of Greece. Mr. Hobhouse said it was wonderful
how circumstances formed character. Lord Byron and he
were in Greece in 1810, long before any revolutionary move-
ments. They had an Athenian servant named Demetrius,
whose excessive timidity and cowardice furnished them with
amusement They used to set him on a spirited horse, that ran
away with him, and Demetrius shrieked and screamed with
terror. The barking of a dog made him cry out with fear ;
and yet, some years after, this very man led the assault at
Athens, and, after prodigies of valour, took that city from the
Turks."]
In April 1824 we all went to live at Aucliindinny
House, an old and odd-looking chateau on the banks of the
North Esk, nine miles from Edinburgh, and within a
walk of Penicuik Mr. Mackenzie (the " Man of Feeling ")
and his family had lived there many years before; and
although it had nothing of the neatness and order of an
English villa, it suited our taste, and the walks about it
were a never-ending pleasure to my daughters and to my
grandchildren ; while in the enjoyment of a large garden
and a small pony gig, my desires, as to the means of
amusement, were completely gratified. We all enjoyed the
repose and freedom of a country life, and Mr. Fletcher's
health and happiness were greatly promoted by it. I
found my early taste for country occupations return upon
me. We had several poor neighbours who interested us
much, and our nearest neighbours (the Hills of Firth)
were truly kind and pleasant associates. Then our more
intimate friends from Edinburgh and elsewhere visited us
frequently, not in a formal or ceremonious manner, but in a
friendly fashion. Mr. Fletcher delighted in the quietness
and freedom of our life there ; he was able to read for
hours, and to be read to ; he bore the infirmities of age
with uncomplaining submission, and his interest in public
AUCBINDJNNY AXD ITS PLEASURES. 1G5
events was undiminished. The frequent visits of our
grandchildren, Miles's three boys, were a great delight to
us both, and Mrs. Taylor and her two children formed
an interesting addition to our family circle. We had no
hankerings after what were called the gaieties of an
Edinburgh life. If I the most gaily disposed member
of the family had felt any yearnings of that kind, I
should have been ashamed to have yielded to them before
the better regulated habits and tastes of my daughters ;
but in fact, though naturally a lover of the pleasures of
society, and somewhat spoiled, perhaps, by the place which
an indulgent circle of friends had given me in the society
of Edinburgh, it had been at times difficult to keep up the
expenditure such circles involve, so that it was a cheap
purchase of repose to give up evening parties and their
confectionary horrors.
In October 1824 Mrs. Taylor, her sweet Elizabeth,
Angus, and I, went to Yorkshire, to pay dear aunty a visit
before winter set in. Angus was on his way to London to
commence his studies as a sculptor. He had never been
able to fix his mind on law and its unpleasant details, since
his visit to Italy, and as his father and I had little hope of
his ever doing so, we thought it better that he should begin
at once the occupation he desired, than waste time as he
was then doing. It was decided that he should board and
lodge in Allan Cunningham's comfortable house for a year,
that by working in Chantrey's studio he might learn under
Allan the rudiments of the art before going to study at
Eome.
In the summer of IS 25 we saw a good deal of some
agreeable Italian exiles, who had been attracted to Edin-
burgh by our friends the De Bossis. To Madame de Bossi
we were indebted for the honour of a visit from Sismondi.
I remember it was a long bright summer day they came.
166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
The Jeffreys met them, and \ve had a wander, after dinner,
in the glen and old quarry of Auchindinny, which all
enjoyed. We were all struck by the union of power and
simplicity in the conversation of Sismondi, and, above all,
by his remarkable benevolence and hopefulness of nature.
He was a believer in the good faith of such as truly loved
the welfare of mankind. He had come on a mission of
love and liberty, from the friends of Greece in Switzerland
to the friends of Greece in England ; but he was grievously
disappointed by the coldness of English feeling on the sub-
ject. He told us he doubted whether there was a single
citizen of Geneva who had not contributed his mite to this
great cause, but that he had not been able to make any
impression on the Greek Committee in London correspond-
ing to his hopes and expectations.
It was not without deep emotion, though regret made a
small part of it, that I learned from Miss Aikin that dear
Mrs. Barbauld had been taken from us. She died on the
9th of March 1825, without much suffering, and retained
her faculties to the very last. She was a woman of much
deeper feeling than the world imagined ; but the great
peculiarity of her mind, together with the extent of its
powers, both when we consider the brilliancy of her im-
agination and the depth of her understanding, was the
remarkable diffidence of her character. This arose from an
exquisite sensibility, which never was displayed, but con-
stantly escaped. I consider it one of the greatest privileges
of my life to have been in . habits of intimacy with this
incomparable woman, and never felt so humble as in her
society. Her own modesty of character inspired this
feeling in others ; and as reverence is only a modification
of the devotional feelings, it was impossible to be with
Mrs. Barbauld without feeling the better for it.
LETTER TO MRS. LAYCOCK. 167
\To Mrs. Lay cock.
" AUCHIKBINNT, April }&th, 1825.
" The severe blow you met with so lately, although it will
have made all other sorrows light in comparison, and chastened
even the happiness that may be in reserve for you, will make
you feel the sentiment of thankfulness more sensibly than you
ever did before. I speak from experience. It is eight years
this day since we lost our precious Grace. It was a stroke
that gave a reality to every succeeding event. It made every
other sorrow sink to its proper level. It made every remain-
ing blessing more than ever valued. It taught that most
important truth a constant dependence on the providence of
God, and a thankfulness, never before properly understood,
for His merciful support in the hour of bitterest trial. It
took away much of the fear of death, and made life a thing so
very precarious and uncertain as to be valued only for the use
that was made of it in reference to another state of existence.
You and I, my dear friend, have met with similar trials in our
family, and we know better than ever how to feel for each
other. But oh ! how many mercies are spared to us, and how
sinful would be our unthankfulness ! "]
"We took the variety of a three months' stay in Edin-
burgh in the winter of 1826-27, which, from my husband's
improved health, he was also able to enjoy in a quiet way,
seeing his old friends in the morning, and we doing so in
the evening. It was during one of these small evening
parties, when I remember Sydney Smith happened to be
in Edinburgh, and spent that evening at our house, that
my son Miles, returning from the Theatrical Fund dinner,
joined our party and announced that "The Great Un-
known " had, on Sir Walter Scott's health being drunk,
risen and acknowledged himself to be the author of
"Waverley," "Guy Mannering," etc. Though the fact
was as well known, as if he had proclaimed it at the
market cross, ten years before, this public and unexpected
168 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
acknowledgment produced a great sensation not only on
the people present, but throughout every circle in Edin-
burgh. The secret had been extracted from him by the
unfortunate state of his affairs, involved as he was in
Constable's bankruptcy. Sir Walter was one of those
great men who had an undue estimate of the " pride of
life." He did not care for money, but he cared much for
baronial towers and aristocratical distinction ; and yet this
taste was unaccompanied with haughtiness of disposition
or manners. It was rather the romance of his character
that had led him to add acre to acre, and to found the
family of Scott of Abbotsford ; for there was nothing sor-
did in his nature ; he was frank and kind-hearted, as much
beloved by his poor neighbours as he was admired and
courted by the great. It must always be regretted that
the labours of his busy life failed to secure him an honour-
able independence in his advanced years ; and yet he was
never more truly great than when he said, on declaring
himself insolvent, " But this right hand shall work me out
of my difficulties;" and so it would, had his life been
prolonged. There can be little doubt, however, that the
painful excitement of the difficulties, which he met so
bravely, broke down his constitution and shortened his life.
We spent an agreeable three months in Edinburgh, and
returned to Auchindinny in the month of April 1827.
We had not long returned there when we had very dis-
tressing accounts of Angus being taken ill at Rome in May
1827. We sent our kind relation, Lieut. M'Nicol, to
travel home with him, and the following winter he spent
with us in complete retirement, and gradually recovered
his health of body and mind in the spring of 1828. At
this time we were not without much anxiety about Miles's
health, which began to decline, and Mr. Fletcher became
visibly more feeble and less cheerful. I remember his
MR. FLETCHER'S DECLINING HEALTH. 169
saying that he thought he had now lived as long as life
was desirable, on which I reminded him that not many
years ago he had said that he should like to live his life
over again. He smiled, and said, "Yes, my dear, my
married life." His tenderness of expression seemed to
increase towards all connected with him, and he often spoke
of me to his children, and of them to me with the fondest
affection. That summer, the last of his life, several old
friends came to pay their respects to him ; among others
Mrs. Ker, Miss Forster, Mrs. Spiers, and her daughter
Mary. He continued to take the warmest interest in
public events, and at this time the Greek Eevolution occu-
pied his thoughts, and his daughters used to read to him
and write for him whenever he desired it. He never used
spectacles, and was able to read easily till within five or
six weeks of his death. Towards the middle or end of
November of that sad year our dear Mrs. Taylor took his
loved grandchild Elizabeth to stay, as we thought, some
months with my aunt at Tadcaster. I still think I see
our precious Elizabeth with her brother in the little pony-
carriage, attended by Lunnan, the gardener's wife, leading
the pony through the avenue at Auchindinny, she taking
her last look of a place she had loved so dearly. Her
mother went the day before, and they both stayed some
days with Miles in Edinburgh before they set out for
Yorkshire. They had not been gone a week before we
heard that the dear aunt to whom they were going had
been seized with apoplexy, which had very much affected
her mind. The next letter from Mrs. Taylor told us that
her Elizabeth was ill, very feverish, and she was uneasy
about her. Next day, Mary, who had been staying in
Edinburgh for a few days, unexpectedly appeared at Auchin-
dinny late at night, and with a countenance of deep distress
told us that Elizabeth's complaint was typhus fever, and
1 70 A U TO BIO GRA PHY.
that she was in great danger. Margaret returned to
Edinburgh in the carriage that brought Mary home, and
she and Angus set off without delay to Tadcaster. The
dear child knew her aunt Margaret, to whom she was
warmly attached. She watched by her constantly, sharing
with her mother the office of a nurse. But it pleased God
to take her from them, and never did a purer or holier
spirit return to Him who gave it. She had lived with us
eleven years, and we could not remember when we lost her
that she had ever said or done a thing to grieve us. She
died on the 15th of December 1828, at the age of thirteen
years and seven months, and was buried in a vault adjoining
to that of the Hill family in the north aisle of Tadcaster
church.
When Mary and I received accounts of her death we
were watching by the deathbed of her grandfather. Mr.
Fletcher's mind was so acute that we did not tell him of
her death, he would have felt it so severely. Not many
days before his death Mr. Turner, our family surgeon, came
from Edinburgh to pay him a friendly visit. I happened
to be out of the room when he arrived, but I found him
giving Mr. Fletcher an account of the successful struggle
the Greeks were making against their Turkish oppressors.
I never saw Mr. Fletcher look more animated, and turning
to me he said, "My dear, Mr. Turner says I must take
some port wine, and you must take a glass with us, to wish
success to the Greeks." I mention this as an instance of
the public passion being strong in death. After that day
he spoke little, but was in a placid, thankful, happy state
of mind. He had always said he hoped he should die in
the midst of his family. On the 19th of December I had
a letter from Miles, expressing great distress in not being
allowed by his medical men to come and see him, on
account of his severe cough and the medical treatment
DEATH OF MR. FLETCHER. 171
thought necessary for it. His father said, in a strong and
cheerful tone, " By no means ; write and tell him I entreat
him not to come." Late that evening Angus arrived from
Yorkshire ; he had set off from the funeral of his niece,
and only reached Auchindinny a few hours before his
father died. Dear Mary and I had been the only members
of his family that were about his bed, owing to the variety
of our family afflictions at the time ; but when I told him
Angus had come, though too weak to speak audibly, an
expression of pleasure passed over his countenance. As he
seemed disposed to sleep, Mary and I left him for a few-
hours in the charge of my son Angus, and an excellent maid
of mine of the name of Brown, whom he liked much as a
nurse, and who frequently read to him. Our good medical
attendant from Penicuik, Mr. Renton, remained with us
that night, and was in a room which opened into his.
About two o'clock in the morning Angus came to tell us
that all was over.
Thus closed a union of thirty-seven years of as much hap-
piness as is commonly the portion of human life. During
all that time I never experienced an unkind word or deed,
from my husband; I never knew him do a thing that was
not strictly honourable and high-principled. Considering
the great disparity of our years, there was unusual sym-
pathy between us. He had none of that narrow and paltry
feeling which belongs to men of little minds, a desire of exer-
cising power and authority in small matters. His indulgence
towards me knew no bounds, and he secured my respect and
affection by the virtues of his character, the soundness of
his understanding, and the tenderness of his heart. It was
my happiness to be able to sympathize completely in all his
public feelings and opinions. If I had not done so, our
union would have been far less happy ; for he lived in
times when private interests were sacrificed to public princi-
172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
pies by all who truly loved truth and justice, and had minds
sufficiently enlightened and honesty sufficiently steadfast to
prefer the public good to private and personal advancement.
\Miles A. Fletcher's letter to his mother, from bed, on the day
of his father's funeral.
" 24th December 1828.
" MY DEAREST MOTHEB, It was very kind of you to write
to me. Be assured my ailment is yielding to Dr. Thomson's
vigorous practice and great care. I cannot attempt to say how
much the necessity of confinement to bed on this day distresses
me, yet I know it is the course which would be most accept-
able to the affectionate spirit now at rest. We have much of
the purest pleasure in store in recalling recollections of the
virtues which ennobled my father's character. They make me
feel proud ; and although I cannot hope to adorn his name, yet
I trust it will be transmitted by me without dishonour. I
trust George is impressed, by some conversations we have had,
in a way you would wish ; but I have not strength now to
enlarge on a subject which at this solemn hour so fully engrosses
me. My wife joins with me in warmly affectionate sympathy.
I am always your grateful and loving son,
" MILES A. FLETCHER."
It was during the first winter we spent at Auchindinny
that we persuaded my mother to print her "Dramatic Sketches,"
which had been written at Callander a few years before. A
selection from the many letters she received from true and
loving friends about the Dramatic Sketches is here inserted :
From Mrs. Grant of Laggan.
" Now I must tell you of the impression your dramas have
left on my mind, though I cannot yet be said to have read
them critically. I fear you will scarce consider it a compli-
ment when I tell you that they far exceeded my expectations
not that I expected less, in some respects, than I found. I
looked for exalted moral feeling, purity of sentiment, and the
utmost purity of style, but truth to say I did not expect
LETTERS ON "DRAMATIC SKETCHES." 173
you to be so poetical, or to understand what one might call
the technical part the management of the drama so well.
The whole performance bears evident marks of being a tran-
script from your own mind, an abstract of those feelings and
principles on which you have thought, spoken, and acted. I
should think it a kind and friendly thing to point out any
blemish that I might observe in your work, not with the view
of altering or amending, but to prove my sincerity and try
your patience. Now, I really can find nothing in the knguage
or sentiments but what appears to me to be admirable as a
composition. There is no prominence of striking or glowing
passages, but the whole is finely and consistently sustained.
There is a masculine strength in the language, yet the purity
and delicacy of the thoughts expressed seem to belong to
woman's softer breast. The characters are well sustained and
sufficiently discriminated. ' Elidure,' I think, will please more
generally. It is delightful to think such a character really
existed ; to add life and colouring to such a portrait sketched
by Milton must have been a delightful task ; and I could well
suppose you to have luxuriated in it. Not seldom the practised
and the professed and shameless selfishness of worldly characters
has so wearied and disquieted me, that I feel a kind of triumph
when I have any character, living or dead, to hold up for the
honour of human nature as consistently actuated by noble
motives. You have yourself, my dear friend, done me good
sendee in this respect."
The Rev. Archibald Alison, her valued friend and pastor for
very many years, wrote thus on the same subject :
" I hav.e waited until I heard of your return to Scotland
to offer you my grateful thanks for the honour you have con-
ferred upon me by the copy of your dramas, and for the
delight you have given to me and mine by the perusal of them.
We expected much, and even more than our expectations has
been fulfilled. We have found in them everywhere the con-
ceptions of a noble and exalted mind, in many passages much
vigour, and in many others much felicity of poetic expression,
and in all a facility in the management of tragic verse which
would do honour to any dramatic author. I have found,
174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
however (for here I must speak in my own name, being
happily the only critic in the family), a great unacquaintance
with the craft of the drama, some negligence of the value of
your own materials, and an ignorance, perhaps a disdain, of
the art of setting them off by the common tricks of the stage.
All this, however, if you wish to adapt them for representation,
might be easily supplied. You have provided the gems, and a
very inferior hand might set them, so as to give to their own
natural brilliancy the advantages of artificial position. If you
have no wish of this kind, you have at least the satisfaction
of leaving to your grandchildren a domestic memorial which,
in their eyes and in the eyes of those that follow them, will,
I doubt not, be more valuable ' than all Bokhara's vaunted
gold, than all the gems of Samarcand.' "
Joanna Baillie writes in August 1825 :
" I have just risen from the second reading of your very
pleasing dramas, and will no longer delay my immediate thanks
to yourself, though I have written to your son on the subject,
and begged of him to convey to you my grateful acknowledg-
ments. I owe them for being kindly included amongst the
friends to whom you give this token of regard, and I owe them
for the pleasure I have received in perusing works of so much
generous feeling and noble sentiment and principles clothed in
such beautiful and harmonious verse. There cannot be a more
perfect character as a mother and a queen than you have
portrayed in ' Eowena ; ' and the entire rectitude and nobleness
of it are so simply, naturally, and forcibly expressed, that it
gives an originality which one does not often meet with in
these days in dramatic subjects.
' What ! ask a noble nation to be slaves,
To crouch and fawn beneath a tyrant's feet,
Because he was my son ? '
are noble and forcible lines, the spirit of which is sustained
through the whole play, joined to great tenderness and affec-
tion. The flowers of poetry, too, which adorn both dramas,
are pleasingly and happily introduced. If I were a play-going
person I should probably prefer the second piece, which has
LE TTERS ON ' ' DRAMA TIC SKE TCHES. " 1 75
more of dramatic effect ; but the first is my favourite, and I
believe I shall have a good proportion of your readers to agree
with me. I read the first aloud to Mrs. Baillie and my sister
as soon as I received the book, and they were both very much
pleased, and beg me to offer you their thanks for that gratifica-
tion. I congratulate you very heartily on your success, and I
congratulate those who will feel it more than you do, Mr.
Fletcher and your daughters."
From Lucy Aikin to Angus Fletcher, August 13, 1825.
" It is with real satisfaction, my dear sir, that I prepare to
give you my sentiments on the 'Dramatic Sketches.' Had
they been sent to me anonymously I am certain that I should
have discovered in them the spirit of my friend, that spirit
which magnanimity and tenderness share between them so
equally that neither of them encroaches on the other, but both
blend into one noble and touching whole. When I find in any
work such evidence of a high soul, I really cannot descend to
the minuteness of technical criticism. I am satisfied with
language which clearly and energetically conveys the thought,
and I do not examine by rules of art the construction of the
fable. Your recommendation of reading the last first implies
that it is your favourite, but here I differ from you ; the noble
mother of ' Elidure ' is my friend's own self, and interests me
more than all ; besides, the subject appears to me more inter-
esting and more satisfactory, for I confess I have not so
disciplined rebel nature as to have lost all pleasure in poetical
justice. I would in fiction at least take vengeance of the
wicked first, and pity and forgive them after. Besides, I can
scarcely reconcile myself to the ruffian ' Dunstan ' converted
into a philosophic sage, and the grovelling superstition which
he made the instrument of his pride and ambition changed into
a benignant and beautiful faith, which has no temples through-
out the world, even in this age, but the hearts of the purest and
the most enlightened followers of a Divine philosophy. But
this affects not the intrinsic beauty of the characters, which is
very striking. I hope your dear mother will be encouraged to
embody more of those high and lovely conceptions in verse. "
176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
To E. F., on reading lier u Dramatic Sketches."
WHOSE dreams are these ? and art thou still the same
As erst when I beheld thee, lofty dame,
Some twenty years now past, when fancies high
And fire-fed thoughts illumed thy noble eye,
And patriot aims which seem for man designed,
With poesy and gentle heart combined,
And womanly romance, to make the sheen
Of thy discourse as beauteous as thy mien ?
Why do thy mind and spirit show no trace
Of Time's dominion 1 Has it spared thy face ?
Come, show it me ! What wild delight to see
That aught of noble beauteous good can be
Immortal here. I have not found them yet
Survive an hour, although I oft have set
My watch to measure them. Oh! where are they,
The young enthusiasts, the spirits gay,
The brows unwritten on, the lips unstung
By grief, or not remembered? tell me where
Is he, the rhapsodist once welcome there?
All, all are in the tomb they are no more,
Who are not what they were, doth time restore?
No ! though he comes with smiles, dispensing joys,
Alike his advent and his flight destroys,
And hope, and harmony, and bliss devour
Their favourites, victims, I have felt their power
And sorrows too, and but a wreck is left
Of hopes and fears, of peace and joy bereft.
Where are the happy beings I have known
Around thee? infant-blooms and blisses, flown.
Thy children now are matrons; a new race
Their children, hope and revel in their place.
But thou art still the same; thy spirit's youth
Remains unbowed, enamoured still of truth ;
Thy heart of dreams unchangeable, thine age
Not less romantic, nor thy youth less sage.
And worldly wisdom leaves untainted still
Thy pious mind, and innocence of will ;
LETTER FROM MRS. FLETCHER. 177
All this thy dramas show, and yet I deem
Thee less for poet formed, than poet's theme.
SINCLAIR CULLEN, 1826.
A characteristic letter from our Mother, and a fatherly P.S.
"December 1825.
" I must begin by scolding you for not sending your letter
in time for the post-bag. Yesterday's post-bag was a blank to
me. Then I will not scold dear aunty for wishing to keep you
longer, but we must have you home before Christmas. Good
Miss P. has agreed to come to aunt when you leave her. It
will be four months since I parted from you, and indeed, indeed
I cannot let you stay longer from home.
" This has been a barren week with us as well as with you,
the snow, sleet, drizzling rain, and mist, so bad that Missy and
I have had no walks together to the village. A letter from
Miss Wesley about the Dramas has been the only gratifying
circumstance. Truly, dear child, I begin to fear these gratify-
ing letters are not for my soul's good ; they please me more
than they ought to please one who has lived more than half a
century. If Margaret and you had allowed me to get a good
trimming from some practised executioner, in the character of
a scornful, contemptuous reviewer, it might have done me more
good than all the flattering unction that I have taken to my soul.
The way that I discover it has done me no good is from a
feeling of disappointment, when no notice is taken of my little
book by those to whom I have sent it. All who know me
agree with Mrs. Grant, that the book is a metrical transcript
of the author's mind. Still, like all other worldly gratifications,
this has its dangers, if it makes me less distrustful of myself,
less lowly-minded. I pray fervently against this temptation.
On the whole, the plays have certainly met with much more
praise than I or any of you expected ; and if I know myself at
all, much of the gratification their approval has afforded is the
pleasure your father and all our children have had in it."
To this our father adds :
" Tell our very kind aunt that we are very sorry to deprive
M
178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
her of your society, but we have an unconquerable longing for
your coming home after so long an absence. I hope you do
not think of going to Ripon. If I thought you could bestow
time to go there, I would not agree to your leaving aunt so
soon. If you cannot get a companion in a post-chaise, my wish
would certainly be that you should travel by yourselves in a
chaise, and not go a mile in the dark. If you cannot think of
this, the mail is certainly the safest. A. F."
The following part of a letter from T. Campbell at this time
shows how much he valued my mother's friendship, and also
the tyranny exercised by the two leading Reviews of the day,
as well as the pain their verdict inflicted on sensitive minds,
even in this case, on one of such established fame as the
author of " Gertrude of Wyoming " and " Hohenliuden :"
Thomas Campbell to Mrs. Fletcher.
" SEYMOUR ST., LONDON, March 1825.
" Is it very unmanly in me, my dear friend, to feel cut and
sore at the hard injustice, as I think, which has been dealt to
me in the Quarterly Review of Theodoric ? Read the article,
and either your opinion must have been converted, or I imagine
you 1 will be indignant at the assertion that Theodoric is but a
bold dragoon, and Julia and Constance are but so-and-so. I
received your favourable opinion of the poem, my dear Mrs.
Fletcher, with a degree of pride which has perhaps made my
mind more sensitive than it would otherwise have been to this
affront. It makes me feel the injustice of it to be the grosser.
What ! has it touched your intellectual heart, and is a heartless
reviewer to say uncontradicted that the work is uninteresting ?
But I must say that I address you now as the being who best
understood, and who I foresaw would best understand, all the
moral beauty of my characters. Forgive this if it look like
either vanity or flattery. It is certainly not meant to be the
latter. Theodoric. was the production of what I may call the
maturity of my moral feelings. All my life I have speculatively
seen that the calm of mind produced by our cherishing the
pure and kindly affections, and dismissing as far as it is possible
LETTER FROM THOMAS CAMPBELL. 179
all personal hatreds, is the only balm of this otherwise wretched
existence. I believe a rebuke from yourself on the score of my
being satirical was the first cause of my beginning to practise
this truth. Imperfectly, I confess to you, I have practised it.
I think I ought to say nothing for myself, but I ask your advice
if anything can be said for me. It is no answer to say that
Jeffrey's high praise is all set down to the score of .his partiality
for me. In fact, between ourselves, he does not understand
the poem. Any one who can say that Constance is the same
as Gertrude is obtuse on the subject. Constance is meant for
a great moral character, with whom it was requisite to have
been long acquainted
' Before the mind completely understood
That mighty truth how happy are the good.'
"These lines I knew would find an echo of sympathy in your
mind. I have drawn the tears of approbation from your eyes,
and from those of other women something resembling you in
character. The only difficulty in the way of the office at which
I hint is the repugnance which I can well imagine you will
feel at giving publicity to your literary opinion ; but an expres-
sion of sincere approbation from some intellectual mind and
heart is, I humbly think, due though still I shall not be
offended with you if you tell me the contrary.
" God bless you. I am already better for this confession of
my feelings. Yours, T. C."
PART IV.
ABOUT a month after my husband's death Mary and I
left Auchindinny with many tears. It had been a blessed
home to us for five years, and we left it uncertain as to
our future plans, and with that feeling of desolateness which
the breaking up of such a home involves. We had enjoyed
much and we had suffered much there. We had formed
several warm friendships among our poor neighbours, and
we had enjoyed the visits of many valued friends, from far
and near. Dear Mrs. Erskine, the widow of Henry Erskine
and the sister of Sir Thomas Monro, was a frequent guest,
a delightful companion to old and young. Mr. Fletcher
delighted in her society, and so did my daughters. She
cheered the latter years of her distinguished husband as no
one else could have done, for she understood all his wit and
wisdom, and supported him under many family trials by
her unfailing sweetness and genuine piety. We had fre-
quent visits from that delightful thinker, writer, and con-
verser, Thomas Erskine of Linlathen, to whom we were so
deeply indebted for the kind interest he took in my son
Angus during the dangerous illness he had at Rome in 1827.
T. Erskine and my old friend Mr. Clowes were more of
kindred spirits than any men of spiritual natures I have
met with in life. Dear Mrs. Grant of Laggan, and her
daughter Mary, who had all her genius and more refinement,
were often with us. We there first became acquainted with
LETTER TO DR. FRANCIS BOOTT. 181
Professor Sedgwick and Dr. Whewell, who came together
to Auchindinny; and we used to benefit by the neighbour-
hood of the excellent family of Cowan at Penicuik, whose
intimacy with Dr. Chalmers often brought him there, both
to preach and shed the genial influence of his conversational
powers among their friends and neighbours.
After spending a week with my son Miles in Edinburgh
we joined Mrs. Taylor and Margaret at Tadcaster, taking
my grandson, Archibald Taylor, with us. His mother had
no wish to return to Edinburgh, and I felt it to be my first
duty now to devote myself for the present to alleviate, if
possible, the sufferings of the aunt who had taken a mother's
care of me in my infancy.
I took lodgings at Thorp Arch, a pleasant village four
miles from Tadcaster, where there was a good day-school
at which my grandson could go on with his education, near
his mother's lodgings. One of her sisters remained with
her, and one with me by turns in my aunt's house, so that
we were all within an easy reach of each other, and had the
variety of frequent meetings.
[To Dr. Francis Boott.
"TADCASTER, April 1829.
" MY DEAR FKIEND, I can no longer withhold my congratu-
lations to you on the grand event the Catholic Relief Bill.
Who would have supposed that the Clare Election and the
Irish Association would have opened the eyes of the blind and
made the dumb to speak? The conquest of prejudice and the
sacrifice of consistency to public good are honourable indeed to
the present leaders in both Houses of Parliament. Truer
patriotism than Wellington's and Peel's I do not remember,
unless it is 0' Council's, who has nobly sacrificed popularity in
declining to insist on his right to sit in Parliament in virtue
of his late election rather than throw any impediment in the
way of the great measure.
182 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
" But while we laud the public virtue of the champions of
this Bill, what shall we say of the base artifices used to stir up
the people against it? If the Church is in danger, it is her
own sons who have by their unchristian spirit created that
danger. A friend just returned from Ireland assures me he
never saw that country so tranquil and contented. It is a
generous people, and surely a grateful people. You would see
a meeting has been held in Dublin to vote an estate to O'Con-
nell as a reward for his public services, that he may be an
independent Member of Parliament. The resolutions were
moved alternately by Catholics and Protestants.
" Let us hear of yourself, of dear Mrs. Boott and your pre-
cious children. We are all recovering health and spirits after
our great sorrows. We love each other so dearly that for each
other's sake we do not dare to indulge in grief. Those we
mourn are best honoured by our endeavouring best to discharge
our remaining duties.
" You will be glad to hear your friend Angus is making
good progress in his profession. He has been living happily
and quietly for the last six weeks with our kind old friend Sir
Eobert Listen, who has fitted up a studio for him at Millburu
Tower, and finds much interest in watching his progress. Sir
Kobert is now a lonely man ; his wife and he both loved Angus,
and Angus venerates him, and they are good companions for
each other."]
Three months thus passed on, and my aunt was soothed
by my presence near her. Although unable to enjoy life
any longer, she became less unhappy. Any immediate
danger passed away, and we began to form some plans for
the future. I was very desirous that my grandson should
have the advantage of the best education that could be
had, and where his mother could be near him. Dr. Arnold
had been appointed head- master of Rugby School not long
before, and after I read his pamphlet on " The Christian
Duty of Conceding the Eoman Catholic Claims," which
was published about that time, I decided this was the
school for us. Our cousin and friend, T. Shann, an old
THE COTTA GE AT BIL TON, NEAR R UGB Y. 1 83
Rugbeau who knew the neighbourhood, undertook to find
a cottage for us within the school limits, where the boy
could have the advantages of the education of Rugby and
live at home with his mother.
I went to Rugby with my daughters Margaret and Mary,
early iu May, to make arrangements for the future, and we
took possession of the cottage secured for us at Bilton the
following day.
We found our cottage dwelling a peaceful and refreshing
change to our. wearied spirits. We knew no one there ;
but " earth and sky " were blessings to us after a small
country town street, and we soon experienced the greatest
comfort and happiness in the society of Dr. and Mrs.
Arnold, who came to see us shortly after we were settled
at Bilton, she on her pony and he walking beside her.
I believe we were more than a week at Bilton before
any one called on us, and my daughters began to amuse
themselves by fearing that this new experience would not
agree with my sociable tastes. Meantime, I cultivated the
friendship of our good old landlord, Mr. Daniell, our sub-
ject of common interest being birds' nests, which he loved
as much as I did, and kept carefully protected from the
ruthless hands of village boys ; but he pointed them out
to me when I went out before breakfast into the little
garden on the fine May mornings. He was a widower,
and had no daughter, but he had a homely old housekeeper,
who made him most comfortable, in the adjoining cottage
to ours, and who paid him respectful attention. We did
not know, for some time, that he had suffered a grief like
that of " Old Michael." His only son, also the child of
his age, had gone astray like Luke. My old friend, Mr.
Daniell, belonged to the same class as the statesmen of
Westmoreland ; with greater kindness than they gener-
ally show, " He also had found a comfort in the strength
1 84 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
of love." I am often reminded of him by our favourite
neighbour, James Fleming of Grasmere.
An agreeable family, of the name of Boddington, lived
very near our cottage, at Bilton Hall, formerly the resi-
dence of Joseph Addison after his marriage to Lady
Warwick. These five sisters, all unmarried, lived together
in great comfort. Their habits and modes of life were
very different from ours, much more formal and precise.
When we saw their fine powdered footman open their pew-
door and arrange their Prayer-books in exact order, and
the five ladies walk into church, we said to each other,
" These ladies will not approve of us." It soon, however,
proved otherwise. They called the following day. We
returned it, were invited to the Hall, and, from being civil,
they became kind and sociable. We found them amiable,
intelligent, and well bred, with a good deal of individua-
lity. To the poor they were exceedingly kind and
judiciously helpful; and we always look back on their
kindness to us, as strangers, with gratitude. When they
first called on us, these ladies had a favourite niece stay-
ing with them, along with her father, Mr. Boddington.
They went to their own home, in Shropshire, in a few
days, before we had time to know what a treasure this
niece was ; but the impression had been made at first sight
on my daughter Mary's imagination, and the aunts en-
couraged the friendship by bringing Gracilla Boddington
to visit us, both at Keen Ground and afterwards in Kent,
and a warm friendship was formed, not only between the
young, but the old also, for I can truly say that we have
both found a blessing in Gracilla's affection and society.
She always reminded me of Milton's glorious sonnet " To
a Virtuous Young Lady," beginning
" Lady that, in the prime of earliest youth,
Wisely has shunned the broad way and the green."
LETTER TO MRS. CRAIG. 185
It has been a great pleasure to me through life to make
friends of the friends of my children, especially as time
takes away my own, and thus make " relays of friendship "
(as dear Benger used to say), and try to keep the heart
young by adopting the interests of the present ; and it
has been a joy to me to know how many of my friends
my children have loved, and been loved by.
It was during this pleasant mouth of June that Margaret,
Mary, and I made a sort of poetical pilgrimage to Olney
and Westoii, to trace the haunts of our beloved Cowper
and his Mary.
[Letter to Mrs. Craig.
" BILTON, June 14, 1829.
" It is now almost six weeks since we came here, and it is not
possible to imagine a place more suited to our purpose, or unit-
ing more agremens to our taste, than we have found here.
Our cottage, indeed, is small ; but you know how happy even
a large family can be in a small space. We have a sweet
parlour, opening with a glass door into a grass plat and flower-
garden, shut in from, but not excluding, a sight of one of the
prettiest of English villages. Our landlord (who has had a
history) does everything possible to make us comfortable ;
there never was so obliging a person. The Hall house,
formerly the residence of Joseph Addison, is now inhabited by
five maiden sisters of the name of Boddington. They are
judiciously kind to the poor, especially in regard to education,
and are very civil and attentive to us ; but our great delights
in the way of society are Dr. and Mrs. Arnold. They are
truly a charming couple. She reminds us continually of
Madame de Bossi in her frankness, vivacity, and quickness of
observation. She has the same sweetness of nature, and is not
unlike her in personal appearance, but on a larger scale. Dr.
Arnold is quite first-rate in talents, worth, and agreeableness.
He published, three months ago, the best pamphlet that has
appeared on the Christian duty of granting Catholic Emancipa-
tion, and is now at intervals of leisure writing notes for a new
186 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
edition of Thucydides, a work he had undertaken before he
was chosen head-master of Rugby. With all this learned and
literary labour he is most diligent in his calling. In his owu
family he is delightful, always ready for conversation, liberal
in politics, and high-toned in morals. He has published a
volume of sermons, which we admire extremely, and we heard
him preach in the School chapel a most excellent and impres-
sive sermon to the boys. It is not, perhaps, the least of the
merits of this agreeable couple that they have taken to us in
the most cordial manner possible. We feel as if we had known
them as many years as we have actually done weeks. Our
next agreeable neighbours are the Moultries. He is the rector
of Rugby, and married a niece of my dear friend Miss Fergus-
son, of Monkwood. They have also been most kind to us.
Mr. Moultrie is a very able man, and an accomplished scholar
and poet. We have made some pleasant excursions in the
neighbourhood, for we have hired a double gig and a quiet
horse for two months, that Mrs. Taylor when she comes may
see a little farther than her feet would carry her. Our first
expedition was one of thirty miles, to Olney in Buckingham-
shire, to see the haunts of the poet Cowper. We traced him
from his residence in the Market Place of that dull little town,
one of the most uiipoetical situations you can imagine, to the
beautiful village of Weston, about two miles distant, where, in
going to look for a house for Lady Hesketh, he found one
which suited him and Mrs. Unwin."]
Before I returned to my post of duty at Tadcaster, the
end of July, we spent a few days at the School House at
Rugby, and partook of the home life of happiness enjoyed
there by our new but already dear friends, Dr. and Mrs.
Arnold.
It was a family custom retained from the Penrose house-
hold (Mrs. Arnold's old home) for each member of the
family to repeat or read a favourite hymn before the chil-
dren went to bed, and we were delighted to hear the
hymns from " The Christian Year " repeated by little Jane
Arnold and her brothers.
DR. J. DAVY'S VISIT. 187
My daughters had become great admirers of " The
Christian Year " before this time, and we then heard all
about the college friendship and intimacy between Mr.
Keble and Dr. Arnold, who always called him " dear old
Keble," and they both spoke of him with peculiar love and
admiration. Mr. Keble came as one of the Oxford Ex-
aminers of the school that summer to the Arnolds, and my
daughters had the gratification of meeting him at the
School House, as they remained a few weeks at Bilton
after I left it. We still retained the cottage for the year
we had taken it, although our family plans had been
changed by Mrs. Taylor having decided to rejoin her
husband, then employed in Ireland ; her son was therefore
placed at one of the master's houses in the town of
Rugby.
In October 1829 I had a letter from our old friend Dr.
John Davy, who had gone from Malta, where he was then
stationed, to attend Sir H. Davy during a long illness he
had at Rome, and was travelling home with his brother
when Sir Humphry was seized by a severe attack of
illness at Geneva, and died there on their homeward
journey.
Dr. Davy offered me a visit, which I gladly accepted,
having been in the habit of corresponding with him from
the time he graduated at Edinburgh in 1814.
I had returned to Bilton for a few weeks to refresh my
spirits before winter, Mary having taken my place at Tad-
caster during my absence. Dr. Davy said he wished to
read to me a MS. his brother had left to him for publica-
tion which he greatly admired. My dear old friend Miss
Fergusson had joined my daughter Margaret and me at
Bilton Cottage, and as we happened to be snowed up for
some days early in the winter, we had full time to listen
to and admire " The Consolations in Travel," read to us
183 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
by the brother of the distinguished philosopher, and read
with a degree of emotion at times which excited a new
interest in the man who felt as he did the loss of his friend
and brother. Dr. Davy went to London from Bilton to
publish the volume, and asked permission to visit us again
in Yorkshire on his way to Edinburgh, before his return
to Malta.
On our way back to Tadcaster in December, Margaret
and I paid a very interesting visit at the Parsonage at
Bracebridge to Mr. and Mrs. Penrose. 1 She was my
friend Mr. Cartwright's second daughter. She was at the
time I speak of a happy wife, and the mother of three
promising sons, a most delightful woman, with a lively,
active, accomplished mind, and the most engaging sweet-
ness and simplicity of manners. She had married Mrs.
Arnold's eldest brother, a learned and estimable man.
This renewal of intercourse was a great pleasure to me.
[Extract from Mrs. John Penrose' s Diary, after a visit from
her Father's old friend.
"BRACEBRIDGE, December IQth, 1829.
" We had the great gratification of a visit of two days from
Mrs. Fletcher. Her appearance is so engaging, that the mere
looking at her is itself a pleasure. In her youth she was
brilliantly beautiful (she is about sixty) ; she retains so much
symmetry of feature, so much fine expression of countenance,
and so much grace of deportment, such a gentlewomanliness of
manner, with such an expression of goodness, as make her
absolutely lovely. She is rather fat than thin, and her beauty
is matured more than faded. Her conversation is delightful,
full of variety and anecdote. She is an enthusiast in politics,
and on what is called the Liberal side, but there is such a
feminineness in all she says and does, that even her politics
could not alloy the charm of her agreeableness. She has a
1 The "Mrs. Markham, author of School Histories."
RETURN TO TADCASTER. 189
most extensive acquaintance with literary persons, and her
conversation is a stream of lively anecdote continually flow-
ing."]
When we arrived at Tadcaster we were soon followed
by Dr. Davy, whose correspondence and persuasion had
overcome Margaret's hesitation to commit her happiness to
his keeping. As he wished to see his friends in Edinburgh,
and to settle some matters of business with my son Miles,
Mary, who was going to visit her brother, accompanied Dr.
Davy there. We had heard from Miles and his wife of his
increased illness, but I had taken no serious alarm till Dr.
Davy's return, when, in answer to my inquiries about him
I saw by the expression of his countenance that there was
great danger in his case, and he confessed he thought so.
This was a terrible blow to me. Miles's life was infinitely
precious and valuable to us all ; he was in the prime of life,
then thirty-seven. My hopeful temper forbade despair
of his recovery, and Mary's letters from Edinburgh were
encouraging.
Dr. Davy left us for London in a few days, as his leave
of absence from his professional duties at Malta was very
limited. The marriage was fixed to take place on the 8th
of March. A strange state of conflicting feelings takes
place in a mother's heart in the approaching marriage of
a beloved daughter. Her own loss is certain, the gain of
happiness to her child must always be uncertain; but
where there is soundness of principle and understanding,
and great affectionateness of heart, marriage (always a
lottery) seems the best chance of happiness for a woman
who, when she has lost her parents and near domestic ties
and duties in the paternal home, too often experiences
" that hunger of the heart," that want of object in life,
which nothing but a kind husband and affectionate chil-
dren can supply. Hence it is that a mother sacrifices her
1 90 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
own present to her daughter's prospective happiness, and
with a sad but trusting hope gives up the first place in her
child's affections to another.
Some weeks passed on in marriage preparations. Miles
and Mary, and then Angus, arrived. If Miles's altered
looks the year before had struck and pained me, this was
much more the case when I saw him now. My hopes of
his recovery were fainter, but in sympathy with the occa-
sion that brought him he was in good spirits, and never
complained of illness or pain. He gave his sister in
marriage to Dr. Davy on the 8th of March 1830, in the
same church where her parents had been united.
The wedded pair set off immediately after the ceremony,
and Miles, Mary, and I posted the following day en route
for London, while Angus went to Sir Robert Liston's
kind home. We paid a short visit to our dear friends at
Rugby on our way, and also at Oxford, which Miles much
enjoyed. He had never been in London until now, and I
was very desirous he should have the advice of Dr. Marshall
Hall, who besides his great reputation at the time, was one
of those who, I felt sure, would take a deep and friendly
interest in the case. A successful London career had never
weakened Dr. Hall's recollection of his student life in
Edinburgh, where he thought I had been of some use to
him, and he never failed to show his sense of this, by the
most friendly attention and able professional aid on many
occasions to different members of my family.
I took lodgings at Haike's Hotel, Duke Street, in the
hope that dear Miles might have enjoyed seeing something
of London in a quiet way, but he was quite unable for it,
and was confined to his room by a sore throat when the
Davys joined us. This however was an accidental ailment,
not connected with his malady. He submitted with the
most patient unselfishness to the disappointment of not
VISIT TO LONDON AND PARIS. 191
seeing London when in it at last. With the most generous
consideration for the indulgence of others, he habitually,
exercised self-restraint, and was singularly inexpensive in
his habits ; while he had the greatest pleasure in making
kind presents and in relieving the poor, he was as free
from ostentation as he was from selfishness.
It was with the utmost reluctance that I could make up
my mind to leave Miles ill and alone in London, and I
proposed to remain with him and let Mary accompany the
Davys to Paris, and return with our cousin, Mr. T. Shann,
who was to be of our party. I remember the earnest way
in which he begged me not to give up the plan of going to
Paris, saying he especially wished me to go, as I might
never again have an opportunity of seeing General Lafa-
yette, and he knew we had good introductions to that
great man ; besides, he added, " My wife is only too anxious
to come, and I promise you to summon her, if I am not
better, to-morrow." This decided me to go, and I heard
of his wife having joined him when we arrived in Paris :
she had, indeed, set off the day we left London.
I felt in a strange dream when I got to Paris, the scene,
in my early married life, of such high hopes and bitter dis-
appointments. "\Ve all felt more disposed to turn to the
living actors left of those times than to see sights ; and, to
assist my memory, I have recourse to our journal at the
time. Owing to Chevalier Masclet's kindness, we paid a
most interesting visit to the Abbe" Gregoire, and were not
disappointed in the deportment and conversation of this
venerable member of the Constituent Assembly, and known
by them as L'Ami des Noirs. He seemed to be holding a
sort of lev^e, and soon after our arrival a free African from
Hayti was announced, a youth who was attending the
University of Paris. The Abbe" spoke of our Clarkson
with great admiration and pleasure, and we felt it to be a
192 A UTOBIOGRAPm '.
real gain to have seen so beautiful an example of serene old
age. He was, as Thomas Erskine told us, very much one's
idea of Fenelon, courteous, polished, full of benevolence and
kind feeling for good men of all countries and colours.
The Misses Garnet, some American ladies to whom we
had brought letters of introduction, called to say General
Lafayette would call on me at four o'clock. He came
at that hour, and conversed most agreeably till six. We
were all delighted with the mildness, benevolence, and ease
with which this great and good man entered into conversa-
tion, expressing, without the least egotism, the most liberal
and extensive views. He spoke of a new colony for the
reception of liberated Negroes on the coast of Africa, called
it " his daughter Liberia," and expressed the deepest in-
terest in its success. We all went the same evening to a
soiree at General Lafayette's, between nine and ten P.M.
The suite of rooms, four of which were open, were much
crowded, and the noise greater than at an English recep-
tion. Chairs were placed round the second room, close to
the wall, where the ladies sat. The middle of the room
was filled by men, vociferating with great energy to each
other ; many of these were distinguished members of the
Chamber of Deputies. We were introduced to Benjamin
Constant, very intellectual-looking, but in feeble health.
He had a sickly, melancholy appearance, like one weary of
the world and no wonder.
We continued to receive the kindest attention from the
family of General Lafayette while we remained in Paris.
His daughter, Madame De Lasteyrie, sometimes came to
our hotel in the evening for an hour or two, and delighted
to speak of her father. She said he enjoyed his retirement
at La Grange extremely ; and there, surrounded by his
grandchildren, and occupied with the cultivation of his
estate, he passed a happy and serene old age.
GENERAL LAFAYETTE AND MIGNET. 193
There was something morally sublime in the contempla-
tion of a character so pure and devoted as Lafayette's,
so clear of party feeling, so free from egotism, so unspoiled
by popularity, so unsoured by adversity and ingratitude.
We were at that time (April 1830) little aware that
General Lafayette was again so soon to be placed at the
head of the National Guards on the memorable three days
of July in that year, when the destinies of France in the
choice of an Executive Government were committed to
those over whom he presided.
When we saw him he expressed his entire confidence
and satisfaction at the enlightened state of public opinion
in France ; he said the people were now too well informed
to admit of the Government taking measures subversive of
their liberties ; and that Frenchmen had paid too dearly
for their rights not to know how to cherish them. The
tone of General Lafayette's conversation was more re-
markable for mildness, moderation, and good sense, than
for eloquence or brilliancy, but it gave me the impression of
earnestness, and honesty, and a hopefulness wonderful even
to me after all he had seen and suffered. The opinions of
Mignetthe historian, whom we met, with several other dis-
tinguished literary men, at the evening receptions of Miss
Clarke (now Madame Mohl) were more in accordance with
the events which have since taken place at Paris than with
the hopes of the sanguine general and patriot. Our journal
records on Saturday, 9th April " We met at Miss Clarke's,
in the Rue Petite, St. Augustin, Mignet, the historian of
the French Revolution." He is a man of about five-and-
thirty, of a noble countenance, and very simple engaging
manners. He has no other profession than that of litera-
ture. His society is much sought, but he prefers retire-
ment, and he is indeed not a man of the world, but he is
singularly animated and eloquent in conversation, not for
H
194 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the sake of display, but from the interest he takes in the
subject of which he speaks. He contended that nations,
no more than individuals, have been ever known to profit
by experience from the misfortunes of others. He thought
the granting Catholic emancipation to Ireland was the only
exception. The English Government had profited by the
experience of the Irish Rebellion of 1790. Mignet is now
engaged in writing the History of Henry IV., and the
religious feuds of that period. It is creditable to the
present state of society and manners in Paris to hear of
the high estimation in which men of real literary merit
are held. Literature gives a man the first rank in society,
and wealth is not essential to him. Bookmaking as a trade
meets with no encouragement. The honour of a seat in
the National Institute, and a distinguished place in the
best scientific and literary circles, are the rewards of in-
tellectual eminence in Paris. Authorship in France seems
to be a more honourable than gainful profession. The
copyright of books is much cheaper than works of the same
merit would be in England. I was told that the law
which divides the property of families into equal shares is
gradually effecting a degree of equality which is not known
in the other countries of Europe. So far as we could learn,
this division of property by the law of inheritance does not
relax industry nor lead to prodigality ; on the contrary, it
leads to moderation.
We saw a number of the so-called charitable institutions
of Paris supported by the State. Many, such as the deaf
and dumb, and blind, were evidently beneficent and well
conducted ; but one did fill me with horror, and did more
to make me hopeless of the future of Paris, if not of France,
than anything I heard or saw there. The first we went to
see was that known by the name of Les Enfans Trouv^s.
Nothing could exceed the neatness of the apartments. It
PARIS AND ITS INSTITUTIONS. 195
was truly a "whited sepulchre." Each infant was in a
separate crib, and the curtains were white and clean, but
there is no describing the effect of the little wailing cries
of the poor deserted babes : the low faint sound of distress
from all sides was most appalling. One of the sceurs de la
charitd was in the apartment ; we involuntarily drew aside
the curtains of one poor infant, whose low deep moanings
were peculiarly affecting. The sister of charity lifted it up,
and said, smiling, "It is dying." I besought her earnestly
to give it some natural food, that of the breast, for the
mouth of the child moved in search of it. She said, with
much sweetness and composure, " It has a sore mouth, and
would infect the nurse ; it is dying." It was long before
I could think of anything but the famished look of that
miserable infant, and I left the institution with a firm per-
suasion that many children are suffered to perish there from
inanition. I was powerless to do anything but write a
letter to Madame De Pastoret, who gave us the order of
admission. Count Philip Ugoni promised to translate and
read my letter to her, as she had requested to have my
opinion of that and the institution for young delinquents.
The demoralizing effect of this institution is perhaps more
to be reprobated than the indifference to human life which
we observed within its walls. That there should be in
Christian Europe, and in a city famed above all others for
its civilisation and refinement, little less than seven thou-
sand mothers every year capable of abandoning their infants
at the moment of their birth, is a melancholy fact. It is
not to be supposed that many of these mothers could bring
themselves to put their children to a violent death with
their own hands. This cruel institution, therefore, furnishes
them with an apology for licentiousness. They send their
superfluous offspring to an early grave within the precincts
of this hospital, or to a life of sorrow and abandonment if
1 96 A UTOBIO GRAPIIY.
they are strong enough to live. We were told by one of
the managers of this institution that from twenty to thirty
infants were received every twenty-four hours ; there were
eighty-seven when we visited the place, all of whom had
been received within the last three days. Every third day
these deserted babes are placed in hammocks, swung up
inside a large caravan, and sent into the country to be
nursed. Four hundred francs a year is given to the foster-
parent till they are twelve years old, and then the allow-
ance from the hospital ceases. We were told that one-third
die within the third day of their reception there. Many
of these mothers were supposed from the dress in which
the children came not to be in distressed circumstances,
but prefer this to the incumbrance and expense of a large
family.
[To Mrs. Thomson.
" LONDON, May 4th, 1S30.
" I must leave Mary to give you the sequel of our adven-
tures in Paris; she alleges I did not enjoy it sufficiently. The
fact is, it excited me too much. I never felt myself old till I
went to Paris. I wanted to find people to talk to me about
the Federation in the Champs de Mars about the fall of the
Bastile the scenes that took place at the Hotel de Ville ;
but" I could find no one that knew or cared about them, and in
vain we searched through many a shop and book-stall for ' Les
Jours de la Revolution,' the little book you recommended to
us. We had great enjoyment, however, in various ways, and
I shall enjoy it more at Bilton than I did in Paris. You will
be glad to hear that General De Lafayette entirely approves
of Fanny Wright's conduct in taking her Negroes to Hayti.
He gave her a letter of introduction to the President Boyer, of
whom he has a good opinion ; and he hopes by her energy and
the influence of her talents she will establish a good under-
standing between the Government of Hayti and that of the
United States, so as to facilitate the settlement of the Negroes
MILES 'S INCREASED ILLNESS. 197
in that country. He lamented her connexion with the Owens,
but spoke of her with great respect and interest."]
Some weeks after our return to Yorkshire, in the sum-
mer of 1830, Mary went to pay a visit to Mrs. Taylor, in
Ireland, and in September I set off for Scotland, having
heard from Mrs. Miles Fletcher that Miles had been strongly
advised by Dr. Marshall Hall to spend the winter in a
milder climate, but that he would not consent to leave his
boys, and that thus the hope of his health benefiting by
the change recommended could not be accomplished. This
decided me at once to offer to take charge of the boys in
their absence. No time was to be lost, as the days were
shortening, and I at once sent Angus to bring his sister
Mary from Ireland to meet me in Edinburgh ; and my offer
being gladly accepted by Miles and his wife, I set off at
once.
I had not seen dear Miles from the time we had parted
in London, and I was greatly shocked at the change in his
appearance, though he was not uncheerful. He was rejoiced
to see me, and spoke hopefully of the benefit he expected
to derive from going to Jersey.
On the 1st October 1830 I accompanied my dear Miles
to enter his son Henry at the New Academy. He was a
cheerful little fellow, not quite eight years old ; and I well
remember his father's glistening eye as he saw him receive
his ticket of admission and take the place his number gave
him in the class. Mary soon joined us from Ireland, and
we entered on our unexpected duties. It was a very
mournful time for both of us ; but we felt it was all we
could do for one we dearly loved ; and although we declined
all invitations, we received much kind attention from old
friends of all degrees, and had the pleasure of becoming
intimate with Susan Ferrier, the good and agreeable author
of "Marriage" and "Inheritance," novels of much humour
193 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
and ability, and greatly admired at the time. Miss Ferrier
took a most friendly interest in my grandsons for their
mother's sake, whose intimate friend she had been from her
early days.
Three months thus passed. My son's health did not
improve ; and, besides his desire to be at home, he wished
to relieve me from the charge I had undertaken ; and this
was rendered more easy, as, from the change of Ministry,
the Duke of Argyll had been appointed Keeper of the Great
Seal for Scotland, and, without solicitation, he appointed
Miles his Deputy Keeper. This was a very desirable event,
as sickness had destroyed his prospects at the Bar. He
wrote me a cheerful letter on reaching London, on his way
home, and said that " his satisfaction on his appointment
would be complete when he received my congratulations
upon it," He and his wife paid a short visit to the dear
old aunt who always delighted in him, on their way home,
but he gave us so bad an account of her state that he did
not urge my remaining many days, but asked me to leave
Mary with him, which I did, she being at the time not able
to travel from illness. My spirits were supported by feel-
ing equal to the work God had appointed me to do to
watch over the kindest of friends to me and mine ; and, as
usual, she revived on my return to her, from the comfort
of knowing I was near her.
[To her daughter Mary, in Edinburgh.
"TADCASTER, May 1th, 1831.
" I was indebted to Mrs. Dundas for procuring me a ticket
for the High Sheriff's box on the hustings yesterday, for a
most glorious day at York. Before I set out with Archy I
had the very great satisfaction to receive the letter you sent
me from Malta ; mine has never appeared yet. Thank you,
dearest Mary, for the relief your kind attention gave me,
GENERAL ELECTION AT YORK. 199
but we have three long weeks to wait before we can hear of
her safety. We must pray, and trust in unfailing mercy.
Well, I have had many adventures since I wrote to you first,
a call from Mr. Strickland, on his way to canvass the West
Riding he was very agreeable, and full of kindly recollections
of us in early days at Edinburgh ; then, last Saturday, a
most friendly visit from Mrs. Dundas 1 after her husband's
election, offering me a seat on the hustings if she could get
tickets ; then, on' Sunday, a long visit again from Mr. Strickland
on his return from his triumphal progress through the West
Riding, with divers amusing anecdotes and incidents that
occurred on his canvass. He took luncheon here, and left
me about five o'clock. Then the last fortnight has been full of
amusing episodes, stirring up a Reform committee in Noodle-
dumf the sub-committee in the blue parlour of aunty's house.
The full committee held their meetings at Backhouse's Inn.
They actually raised subscriptions large enough to send such
of the seventy freeholders from Tadcaster as could not afford
to pay their own expenses if a poll had been demanded ; but
Mr. Duncombe, the Tory candidate, happily thought fit to quit
the field on Thursday, so that the immense tide of human
existence which rolled past this house from the West Riding
on Thursday afternoon, all Thursday night and yesterday
morning, were carried there by the impulse of enthusiastic
feeling in favour of the Reform Bill ; every one of that
immense multitude, five or six thousand at least, paying
their own expenses. Every wheeled carriage in Leeds was put
in requisition, and the number of carriages of every description
surpassed belief. Then the operatives on foot lined the road
and filled the streets of this town with their bands of music
and their shouts of triumph. On Thursday evening, as they
were passing, a heavy shower came on. All who had money
in their pockets took shelter in public-houses. Archy and I
observed two boys sheltering themselves under the gateway
opposite my aunt's house, with Reform colours an orange card
in their hats. The rain fell in torrents. We had just
finished our comfortable tea, and I sent Hannah to invite them
to tea in the kitchen. They were two young operatives,
i Afterwards Countess of Zetland. * The family name for Tadcaster.
200 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
croppers, out of work, but well-dressed lads, who had set oft'
to walk twenty-three miles without a shilling in their pockets.
They enjoyed their repast much, and when the rain was over
proceeded on their way to York. We reached York yesterday,
soon after nine o'clock. Mrs. Dundas, Mrs. Lane (one of Lord
Dundas's married daughters), Alexander Spiers of Elderslie,
and I, proceeded straight to the hustings. The Castle Yard
presented a noble sight ; not less than thirty thousand people,
I was told, all of one mind. You will read the proceedings in
the Leeds Mercury better than I can give them. Lord Morpeth
is a most graceful and finished speaker. Sir J. Johnston
gentlemanly, but rather feeble. Mr. Ramsden sensible and
earnest, but not fluent. George Strickland manly, eloquent,
and fearless. He was the most popular with the West Riding
men. Good speeches were made by the proposers and
seconders of the nominations, but the most touching of all was
the anthem of ' God save the King,' sung by that assembled
multitude uncovered, and with a religious fervency I never
heard equalled in any place of worship. This was done simul-
taneously on the motion of Mr. Fawkes of Farnley, who is a
most eloquent and impassioned speaker. The streets were so
crowded it was not safe to return after the chairing of the
members in a carriage, so we all walked from the hustings to
Parsons' lodgings, where the Dundases are lodging, and then
took leave of them. What strange doings at the Edinburgh elec-
tion ! You want a safety-valve in Scotland. Oh how tranquil
are popular elections even under the old system in England in
comparison of the close system in Scotland ! I am in daily
expectation of a visit from Sir Robert Listen, on his way down.
I see a letter from Angus addressed to him here. God bless
you, dearest Mary; I hope you are warmer than we are. We
had a snowstorm yesterday. I am quite well, spite of all this
excitement ; indeed, enjoying it greatly, as a Yorkshire free-
holder ought to do."]
Mary joined me at Tadcaster in June, having left her
brother and his wife at a beautifully-situated house they
had taken in Fife for a year, within an easy distance of
Edinburgh by steam. "We remained with aunty, and enjoyed
DEATH OF MILES A. FLETCHER. 201
many walks to Oxton and Wighill together. In the middle
of August I was persuaded to pay a visit at Mr. Brooke's of
Armitage Bridge, while Mary remained at the post of duty.
I was sitting in the drawing-room there, looking over a
large volume of Grose's Antiquities, when Catherine
Laycock was called out of the room ; she returned, looking
very sorrowful, and said, " Your Mary has come with bad
news." I said, "Is poor aunty dead 1 ?" Mary, who had
followed, replied, " No, dear mother, but Miles is worse,
and wishes to see us." I did not sink, but instantly
prepared for our journey. It was Saturday, the 20th
August 1831. In half an hour we were on our way to
Edinburgh, posting day and night. We reached Borough
Bridge about midnight. I was so exhausted with sorrow
and fatigue that Mary persuaded me to throw myself on a
bed for an hour or two ; and we both felt strengthened by
it. About two A.M. we proceeded on our journey. That
day Sunday the 21st at three in the afternoon we
reached Percy's Cross, on the road between the vale of
Whittingham and Wooler, that very relic of antiquity
which at that precise hour the day before we had been
looking at and talking about while turning over Grose's
Antiquities. I mention this as a curious coincidence.
We travelled all Sunday night, and reached Edinburgh
soon after sunrise on Monday morning. On arriving at
I 1 Queen Street, Mary rang the bell, which was answered
by Angus, who had come there from Hillside to wait our
arrival. Our dearest Miles died on Saturday evening, the
20th August 1831. Though faint and exhausted, we
could not rest till we proceeded by the first steamboat to
Aberdour and Hillside. Charlotte Fletcher was perfectly
calm ; the relief of tears had not come, and she was
miserably worn out. Once, only once, I saw the remains
of my dear, excellent, and beautiful Miles, but so unlike
202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
what he had been that I could scarcely have recognised a
trace of resemblance. The funeral took place on the
Thursday following. He was laid by his father and
Grace, and a baby of his own, in the cemetery of the Calton
HilL
In the darkest hour of sorrow some human comfort is
often sent beyond that of the immediate family circle ; and
such we felt was the presence of Mary Campbell, an intim-
ate friend of the poor widow, and also of ours, as her father
had been one of my husband's earliest Edinburgh friends,
and I was greatly attached to his eldest daughter, Mary,
at the time I entered on my Edinburgh life. When Miles
felt his last hours approaching, he sent for this Sister of
Charity, " Santa Maria," as we always called her, to be with
his wife, before our arrival ; and she remained with us, and
was of the greatest benefit to all, by the depth of her
human sympathy and her divine love.
Letter on her son Miles' ' Death to Mrs. Davy at Malta,
from E. F.
"HILLSIDE, August 1831.
[After giving an account of our journey from Yorkshire,
travelling day and night, but arriving too late to see him alive,
our mother says :
"Dearest M., I could fill volumes with what is at the
bottom of my heart about our dear, dear Miles, but I cannot
now. I will send you a little memorial of him when time has
mellowed my grief. It will then be soothing to me to remember
him in the freshness and beauty of his youth, but he improved
in character in real life every year he lived ; sickness and dis-
appointment in his hopes of worldly prosperity most certainly
fixed his heart on God. He read his Bible much, and there
was a glowing light over his wasted features which showed the
peace within."
LETTERS ON MI LESS DEATH. 203
James Wilson writes to Angus :
" I had fondly hoped that his malady, though partaking
of the nature of a mortal ailment, might have been so far
subdued or prevented from increasing, as that he might have
been spared even for years to gladden that circle in which, if
I may judge from my own feelings, he never appeared without
spreading joy and comfort. To me during many years in which
I had but few consolations, his presence was as sunshine to
the earth, and I cannot help feeling, notwithstanding the
blessings with which I am now surrounded, ' that my heart-
strings are broken.'
" When we arrived here at seven in the morning on the
22d of August we found Charlotte up, and more composed
than we could possibly have expected ; she continued so all
that day, and Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday, the
funeral day, she became very ill ; her sensations were a light-
ness of the brain, which she thought indicated inflammation.
She desired Dr. P from Kirkcaldy to Le sent for. I was
not present when he came, but Mary says she said to him with
great composure, ' Now, doctor, I believe I am going to lose
my senses ; I think inflammation of the brain is coming on. If
it is so, I entreat you to tell me honestly, for I have some
directions to give and arrangements to make.' He assured
her the sensations she complained of were simply the effect of
sleeplessness, grief, and fatigue, and that perfect repose would
restore her. Dr. Christison agreed with this opinion when he
came, but she was in such a state of exhaustion that both
her doctors were alarmed about her. When her eyes were
closed I never saw any living thing so deadly so pale,
emaciated, and unearthly. Our anxiety and care of her made
us in some measure forget our own deep affliction. She is now
able to be moved to a sofa while her bed is made ; she can
converse a little, and is quite composed. She reads her Bible
much. She is very sweet in her manners towards Mary and
me. I must leave M. with her, Charlotte clings to her so
much."
204 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
M. F. says in the same letter :
" Poor Charlotte is very unselfish in her sorrow, so willing
to talk of all that is on her mind, and so soothed and gratified
by the sympathy and the feeling of Miles's friends. She
dwells constantly on the parts of his character which were
indeed most striking: 'His truth in the inward parts,' his
extreme delicacy of mind, his entire disinterestedness, and his
love of promoting the happiness of others and finding his own
in so doing. We are very thankful that he had the enjoyment
of this place, and that the last objects his eyes rested upon
were such scenes of beauty as can scarcely be surpassed in
heaven. The last night he was up, he stood at the window
to look at the moonlight on the sea ; and after he was in bed
he said to Charlotte, ' I never saw a night that made such an
impression on me as this.' We have often remarked his simple
enjoyment in nature, and it seemed to have increased latterly
in strength. I am now very, very glad I was with him so
much last winter, although it has increased tenfold the sense
of his loss personally to myself, yet it also increased in the
same measure my appreciation of his character and my gratitude
for his kindness and sympathy in all that concerns us. I felt,
too, I was of use to him, as Charlotte was obliged to be absent
for some weeks, owing to Rawdon's state of health, at her
mother's house. I had not seen so much of dear Miles since
his marriage, and it was impossible to be with him and watch
his state of mind with regard to others, and himself, and not
feel he was ripening for Heaven. His deep love for and
gratitude to our mother quite satisfied me, as it would have
done you.
" Dear Mary Campbell is with us still, and is an unspeak-
able comfort to the house in general. She has so much
knowledge of human infirmity as never to be surprised at it,
or impatient with it. She is most valuable to the boys just
now, and also to Angus, and I am so glad our dearest mother
has her near ; they can go back together in the family history
farther than you or I, and they walk together about these
lovely grounds. I am almost constantly in Charlotte's room,
as Stewart, her maid, needs rest during the day-time."
LETTER TO MISS AIKIN.. 205
To Jfiss Ail: in, from J/rs. Fletcher.
" 1832.
" You know me too well to believe that I could either be un-
mindful of you, or ungrateful for the kind expression of your
sympathy which I received some weeks after it was written.
I was then both ill and so sorrowful that I did not wish to
distress my friends by my mournful communications, of various
kinds. You knew my dear Miles in the freshness and beauty
of his youth, and you were one of those who saw through the
apparent carelessness and gaiety of his character, saw that
there was a fund of manly principle and good sense which
would one day lead to valuable results. You were right. A
higher and purer spirit never existed, and if he had laboured
more in the acquirement of professional knowledge I should
have had nothing to regret, but that he was taken away just
when brighter prospects of professional success were opening
before him. Latterly, for the last four years, the declining
state of his health incapacitated him for continued application.
He was a most beloved husband and father, son and brother,
a most trusted and constant friend, a friend of the poor in the
best sense, by taking trouble for them, and respected by all
who knew him for the purity and integrity of his life. I have
much comfort in the reflection that he lived to see better pro-
spects opening on his country, and that no action of his public
or private life was unworthy of his father's son."]
I remained with my aunt all winter : letters from Malta
and from Mary in Edinburgh were my only pleasures ; but
my duty at this time was a real pleasure to me, nor would
I have exchanged my life at Tadcaster then for any other.
The more I saw of my aunt Mary Hill at this time, the
more I revered the self-denial she practised, and the activity
and extent of her benevolence. My visits at the Grange
and to the poorhouse, early in the day, were my only visits.
I discovered some abuses there, and got them remedied.
In the spring of 1832 Mary returned to me. Her
203 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
health was shattered ; but between her severe attacks of
headache she recovered both her looks and vigour, and we
went in May to pay a promised visit to our dear friend
Mrs. Smith of Tent Lodge, Coniston.
It was at the time the Whigs, who had been striving
hard for the first Reform Bill, Avere, by the vacillation of
William the Fourth, compelled to resign, and they were
for some weeks out of office. At this unexpected occur-
rence our Tory hostess rejoiced exceedingly, and then,
when Lord Brougham left the Woolsack with his party, I
offered a visit to my old and revered friend Mrs. Brougham,
telling Mrs. Smith I was not so much afraid of her making
an ungenerous use of her party triumph as I was of my own
temper at her exultation. She replied, " By all means, my
dear friend, go to Mrs. Brougham and condole with her,
but make haste to come back again."
We stayed a few days with Mrs. Brougham and her
agreeable daughter, both of whom received us with the
most frank and hospitable kindness. Newspapers and
letters from her sons came daily, and on the day we had
fixed to leave her, news came that the tide had turned.
The Whigs were again sent for, and the discussions on the
clauses of the Reform Bill were resumed. We were much
urged by Mrs. Brougham to remain another day, to see
her receive a procession of Whigs and Reformers from
Penrith, who had fixed on that day to come, with bands of
music and colours flying, to hail the triumph of the good
cause, and to sympathize with her in the share her gifted
son had taken in the noble struggle. It was a strong
temptation to both of us, but we felt we ought not to
yield to our inclination to witness this demonstration
at Brougham, but returned to our kind Tory lady at
Coniston, in better spirits than when we left her, on public
grounds.
LETTER TO MRS. THOMSON. 207
\To Mrs. Thomson, from Mrs. Fletcher.
" TENT LODGE, CONISTON, May 2lst, 1832.
M On our return from Brougham Hall on Saturday evening I
had the satisfaction to find your kind letter. The very day we
read in the newspaper that the Whig Ministry had resigned I
wrote to offer Mrs. Brougham a visit. There was no one with-
in my reach that could so fully and entirely enter into the
grief and indignation I felt, not so much at Lord Grey's resig-
nation, as at the monstrous audacity of the Duke of Wellington
undertaking to form an administration to carry the Bill against
which he had a few days before so strongly protested. Well,
Mary and I said to each other, if the country, if the House of
Commons, submit to this, England is not a country for an
honest man to live in. Under these impressions we set for-
ward last Thursday to Brougham, but at Keswick we met the
welcome news that the Duke could not form an administration.
That burst of honest and high feeling which prevailed in the
House of Commons when John Wood brought in the Manches-
ter petition, signed in three hours by twenty-five thousand
persons, praying the House to refuse supplies till the Reform
Bill was passed when even the honest Tories scouted the idea
of the Duke taking charge of the Reform Bill that night's
debate and the state of feeling in the country, as expressed
universally at public meetings all over England and Scotland,
set our hearts at rest, and we proceeded next day to Brougham,
not to condole with, but to congratulate the Chancellor's
mother on the proud position in which her son and his excellent
compeers stood from the moment of their resignation. That
was their point of glory, as Lord Brougham expressed it on
taking leave of the Chancery Bar, ' To relinquish power at the
call of public duty is not a misfortune but a glory.' The old
lady was as happy as the noble-minded mother of so noble-
minded a son deserves to be. We had heartfelt rejoicings to-
gether, and much pleasant chat about all our Edinburgh friends,
and about what you would all be thinking and saying. Mrs.
Brougham pressed us most kindly to prolong our visit, but we
had promised to return here. The recall of the Grey Ministry
was not absolutely secure when we left Brougham, but the
203 A UTOBIO GRAPH Y.
people had willed it, and we felt secure. We found your letter
and the report of the Edinburgh meeting on our return to our
good Tory friend. The spirit and intelligence of the Edinburgh
meeting is delightful Reform in Scotland and all the feeling
connected with it is, as you may believe, nearer my heart than
anything else connected with public affairs."]
In October of this year, 1832, I became very uneasy
about the state of Mary's health, from Dr. Thomson's
report of it, and, with my aunt's entire approval, I left her
under the care of a kind friend and her own excellent maid,
and joined Mary in Edinburgh when she returned there,
with her sister-in-law, from Fife, where she had been for
the last month for sea-air and quietness.
I had the good fortune to travel north with one of the
most remarkable men of his time The Honourable Mount-
Stuart Elphinstone. We had been some minutes in the
mail before we recognised each other, and then there was
a most animated and delightful discourse carried on for
eight hours, during which an infinite variety of subjects
were discussed. He gave me much information quite new
to me about India. His acquaintance with men and books
seemed equally extensive, liberal, and unprejudiced, and
we parted at Durham with an impression on my mind that
he was one of the most intelligent men it had ever been
my good fortune to meet, and beyond comparison, uniting
with this, the most engaging and prepossessing manners.
Bishop Heber, who was so well able to judge of the attain-
ments of other men by the extent of his own, mentions
Mount-Stuart Elphinstone in his delightful Indian Jour-
nal as altogether the most accomplished man he had
ever known. W T e saw him frequently after this, both
in Edinburgh and London, and always with renewed
pleasure.
We established ourselves in pleasant lodgings in Forres
VISIT TO EDINBURGH. 209
Street, near Moray Place, where Angus joined us for the
winter.
"We received constant and tender attention from our old
friends in Edinburgh, especially from all the Thomson
family. Mrs. Thomson's loving sympathy much helped to
cheer Mary's winter, as she was obliged to keep almost
entirely in the recumbent position for several months.
It was during that winter, 1832-3, that the hustings
were erected for the first time at the Cross of Edinburgh
for the popular election of the members for the city, under
the new Reform Bill I often took my three grandsons,
and explained to them how their grandfather and father
would have rejoiced to see that day, for the sake of the im-
provement of their country and the security of its future
freedom.
At length, in December 1832, came the day of election,
and we were kindly invited by the Lord Advocate and
Mrs. Jeffrey to their house in Moray ^Place, to see the
members brought home in triumph. The citizens of
Edinburgh did themselves honour in choosing two such
representatives as James Abercromby, the Speaker of the
House of Commons, and Francis Jeffrey, then Lord
Advocate, men not less eminent for their talents than for
their public spirit and courage in supporting the cause of
civil and religious liberty, both in and out of Parliament.
I scarcely felt equal to go, leaving Mary alone on that day
in our lodgings. Our kind Mrs. Thomson secretly con-
sulted her husband, and came with a cheery face early in
the day to say Dr. Thomson allowed his patient to go with
me to the chair or sofa offered her near the window by
Mrs. Jeffrey. It was a glorious sight for us to see these
truly honest men borne home amidst the acclamations of
tens of thousands of their grateful and emancipated
countrymen. We stood by them on the balcony of Mr.
o
210 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
Jeffrey's house while they shortly returned thanks to the
people. Few events ever excited me more than those
which took place in Edinburgh at that time. Mary, in
the true spirit of a reformer's daughter, rose from the sofa
to which she had been condemned for five months, to
witness the joyful scene, and she did not in the least suffer
from it. Nay, from that day she continued to be allowed
more freedom of action and exercise, and about the middle
of April was able to return with me to Tad caster.
[Lord Cockburn's interesting " Memorials of his Own
Time " close before this election of his friend Jeffrey, " his
love for whom was passing the love of woman." He was more
excited by joy on that day even than we were ; and I
well remember his way of rushing into the drawing-room, and
looking round the crowd of Whig ladies and girls who were
present, and calling out, " Where 's Mrs. Fletcher ? she's the
woman that I want," and when my mother came from the
window to meet him, they clasped each other's hands and had
a good " greet " together ; and not many words were said be-
fore there was a call for "Cockburn" from the crowd without,
and he went to the balcony to respond to the call, and made
a short speech of deep feeling which was cheered long and
loudly. M. R.
From Thomas Campbell to Mrs. Fletcher.
" LONDON, May 18, 1833.
" I know that your interest in dear, yet glorious, though
fallen Poland, will be a sufficient recommendation to her most
illustrious poet, Niemskewitz, without a word from me ; but
as the venerable patriot and friend of Kosciusko also honours
Thomas Campbell with his friendship, I cannot help giving
myself the gratification of writing to you by him.
" I declare I can scarcely trust my thoughts with the
melancholy subject of Poland. It has at different periods
over-agitated me, even to the loss of health ; and yet there
are some of the Polish patriot exiles the sight and friendship
LETTER FROM THOMAS CAMPBELL. 211
of whom are a consolatory balm to my spirits. Among these,
the most valued are my brother poets Kiemskewitz and the
Prince Czartorysky. It is some happiness to me to think that
the chosen spirits of Scotland, and amongst them yourself, will
testify your regard for a sacred cause, and for human worth,
by attention to my venerable friend.
" I trust, my dear madam, that this will find you in good
health. I am this day returning thanks to Providence for
fairly feeling the return of that greatest of blessings. . . .
" I shall now resume the life of Mrs. Siddons, and shortly
begin to print, so as to have it out for certainty in October.
I am not sorry for the delay. It is no later than yesterday
that I discovered a probability almost near a certainty that
Shakespeare visited friends in the very town (Brecon in Wales)
where Mrs. Siddons was born, and that he there found in a
neighbouring glen, called ' The Valley of Fairy Puck,' the
principal machinery of his 'Midsummer Night's Dream.'
" It would give me pleasure to hear from and to see your
handwriting. I beg my best regards to all your family, and
remain, after thirty years' friendship, your sincerely attached,
" THOS. CAMPBELL."
To Mrs. Davy, Malta.
" TADCASTER, 3d May 1833.
" We found good aunty shrunk into the least possible
dimensions, but in a less suffering state than she was when I
left her last October. Miss Hill is much bent in figure, but
as much erect in mind as ever, and rejoicing in the effects she
perceives of the Reform Bill in elevating the condition of the
lower orders. She thought it was the first step towards the
millennium ! ! ! What would your Conservatives say of that
opinion from a woman of eighty-one ? They would say she was
in her dotage ; but I never saw her mind more entire, though
the faculty of memory is somewhat impaired. I have been
alarmed since I came here with the tone of the public press,
the coalition that seems to have taken place between the Con-
servative and Radical papers ; they vie with each other in foul
and scurrilous abuse of Ministers. The Conservatives are
212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
playing a dangerous game. They are making use of the
Radicals to turn out the Whigs, not perceiving that by
strengthening that party (the Radicals) they are destroying all
those aristocratic associations in the minds of the people by
means of which they calculate upon their own return to power.
The fears of our Lord Advocate, 1 which his friends in Edinburgh
imputed to his nervous timidity, had but too much foundation.
He said the country had nothing now to fear from the Tory
party, but very much to dread from popular and physical force,
and he feared it would be impossible for any honest administra-
tion to satisfy the people, who had learned from the foolish
conduct of the House of Peers last year to calculate upon their
own strength, and to hold all other strength at defiance. He
feared that spoliation, or, as he called it, levelling downward,
would be the will of the great mass of operatives. This was
in a conversation I had with him last November at Mr. John
Cunningham's. I did not then think the people so unreason-
able, but the speeches of O'Connell, Cobbett, Hume, etc., are
of so inflammatory a character that I do fear Reform has come
too late to prevent revolution. I am thankful however that
it has come. It has organized a national guard in all the ten-
pound voters, and I still hope that the selfish principle, if no
better one, will influence the thinking and rational of all parties
to rally round them."]
We found dear aunty quite as well as when I had left
her five months before, and, as usual, delighted to see us
again ; but Dr. Thomson told me that Mary's nerves had
been so much affected by the complaint in her spine, and
the reducing system necessary to subdue the inflammation,
that she ought not to remain long in so melancholy a scene
as my aunt's sick-room, that good air was essential to
her recovery. So in June our friend Mr. Harden took
lodgings for us, for three months, at Thorney How, near
Grasmere, to be near our dear friends the Arnolds, who
were living that summer at Allan Bank, while their future
home at Fox How was building. Our lodgings were in a
Francis Jeffrey.
THORNEY HOW. 213
simple farm-house, at that time furnished in the most
homely manner; Ave were the first ladies who had in-
habited it, as it was before Easedale was much known,
except to such lovers of beauty as Wordsworth and De
Quincey. We were greatly pleased with our quarters, and
saw several of our friends there, for we never attached
much importance to the size or appearance of our dwelling,
so that it allowed us to exercise the pleasures of hospitality
and enabled us to give a kindly welcome to our friends.
Dear Mrs. Taylor and her little Mary joined us there, and
added much to our happiness. Henry Fletcher paid us a
long visit, and we had frequent intercourse with Words-
worth and his excellent wife, with Mr. Hamilton, who then
lived at Kothay Cottage, at Eydal, and with our old friends
the Hardens at Brathay Hall, and, above all, the Arnolds,
who were our great attraction to Grasmere and Easedale.
We did not then foresee that so many happy years were in
store for us at the little mountain farm called Lancrigg,
which adjoined Thorney How, and which, from its sunny
aspect and birch and oak copses, under Helm Craig, had
for many years of Wordsworth's Grasmere life been a
favourite summer haunt of the simple household of the
bard, who then lived at Town End. Wordsworth and
Dr. Arnold also were great admirers of the views from the
Rock at Thorney How, and the poet, if depressed on first
coming in, was often revived by a visit to the Eock, which
his wife kindly suggested when she saw this was the case.
It was that summer that the illness of his sister began ;
and those who know what they had always been to each
other can well understand what it must have been to him
to see that soul of life and light obscured. He was also
cast clown at this time by the state of public affairs, of
which he took a very dark view ; and what was the opening
of new hope for the evils of the country to Dr. Arnold, and
214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
to us, was, to Wordsworth and his family, the end of
England's glory. I have now lived to feel that we were
both more in the right than our great poet at Eydal, and
also the excellent and desponding Southey at Keswick,
with whom I renewed an acquaintance formed long before,
when we thought more alike on public matters.
[To Mrs. Davy, Malta.
"THORNEY How, 26th July 1833.
" On Wednesday afternoon we set forth to Keswick. Miss
Southey followed us to the side of the lake with an invitation
to drink tea with them. We all went. Southey is sadly
altered since I saw him last ; his hair was quite white, but
that was the least part of the alteration I never
saw any one whose mind was in so morbid a state as that of
this excellent poet and amiable man on the subject of the
present political aspect of affairs in England. He is utterly
desponding. He believes the downfall of the Church and the
subversion of all law and government is at hand ; for in spite
of all our endeavours to steer clear of politics, he slid uncon-
sciously into the subject, and proclaimed his belief that the
ruin of all that was sacred and venerable was impending. His
state of mind presents a striking and curious contrast to General
De Lafayette, in a letter I had from him, dated La Grange,
July 16th, 1833. I think I told you that last winter I sent
him a curious little book written by a Mr. Leonard, surgeon of
a vessel employed by England on the coast of Africa for the
prevention of the slave-trade. The ship or frigate was com-
manded by Captain Eamsay, who was in Edinburgh last winter,
and he told Lady Grey that ' it was true to the very letter.'
Mr. Leonard gives a most fearful picture of the enormities
practised by the slave-ships to Spain, Portugal, and Brazil,
under the tricolor flag of France, because they had not sub-
mitted to be searched by English vessels. On receiving this
book the General put the question to the Minister of Marine,
why France suffered such abominable cruelties to be perpetrated
under her flag? The Minister of Marine assured him that
LETTER TO MRS. DAVY. 215
within the last six months a treaty had been signed between
France and England in which the right of search was recipro-
cally agreed to ; and De Lafayette expresses the earnest hope
that the example set by England in slave emancipation will
ere long be followed by the United States and by all civilized
nations. Miss Garnett says the General is rejoicing in the
capture of the Miguelite fleet (his grandson had been for
eighteen months in Don Pedro's army, a volunteer in the
liberal cause of Portugal), and that he is now reposing after
the fatigues of a long session of the Chamber of Deputies
amid his family at La Grange."
"TADCASTER, October 23, 1833.
" Three days after we arrived here, Mary, Catherine Lay-
cock, and I went to attend a county meeting at York, held to
consider of some lasting tribute of respect for the memory of
Mr. Wilberforce. The Archbishop presided, and opened the
meeting in an elegant and short eulogium on the character of
Wilberforce, especially his sincerely religious character, which
manifested itself not in sectarian zeal or intolerant bigotry,
but by soundness of principle and practical Christianity. He
was followed by Lord Fitzwilliam, who declared he considered
it one of the greatest blessings of his life to have been associated
with Mr. Wilberforce in the representation of the county when
he arrived at manhood, for that no man could live in habits of
intimacy with him without being the better for it. People,
his Lordship said, supposed that because Mr. Wilberforce was
eminently pious he would be morose and severe towards others.
The very contrary was the case ; and were he asked who was
the happiest and most cheerful man he had ever known, he
would say Mr. Wilberforce. Lord Morpeth followed in a very
eloquent speech, on the part Wilberforce had taken in the slave
trade, and on the happiness he expressed on his death-bed for
having lived to see that great measure accomplished. He
concluded this touching observation with these words, very
emphatically uttered : ' Let me die the death of the righteous,
and let my last end be like his.' Then spoke the Lord Chan-
cellor. He had come all the way from Brougham to attend
the meeting. He made a strong appeal to Mr. Wilberforce's
216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
native county, which he had so ably represented in six successive
Parliaments, to erect a suitable tribute to the memory of that
. great and good man, not merely an inscription in brass or
marble, but some institution which should have the instruction
of the ignorant or the relief of the afflicted for its object,
some such monument to his name as Wilberforce himself would
have chosen. ' It is true,' he said, ' we have not the evil of
slavery in this country, but we have the monstrous evil of
ignorance to a frightful extent, and ignorance is the fruitful
parent of discord, intolerance, and vice.' It was one of the
most interesting public meetings I ever attended. It was in
the Music Hall at York, and the place was crowded up to the
very door. Lord B. looked in good health. His speech was
earnest, grave, and impressive. He seemed deeply impressed
with the evils arising from the ignorance of the people ; indeed,
from Sir W. Hamilton's article in the July number of the
Edinburgh Review, on education in Germany, it would appear
that France and England are the worst educated nations in
Europe."]
We returned to Tadcaster in September, and found our
poor sufferer in much, the same state ; but so kind and
touching was her reception of us, that I made a resolve
then that nothing short of the most imperious duty, such
as that which the care of Mary's health required, should
tempt me to leave her again. Thank God, it was not neces-
sary to do so, and we remained with her to the last. An
increase of weakness and weariness came on, on the 24th
of December, when I was sitting beside her, and she died
on the morning of the 26th, 1833. I was standing by
her bedside; her eyes were closed, and I said, " Dear aunt,
I am beside you ; do you know 'your Bessy '?" She did
not speak, but she pressed my hand, gave one short breath,
and all was over. Thus passed away one of the purest
spirits and kindest-hearted beings that ever lived. She
had not a particle of selfishness in her nature, had great
tenderness of heart, and strict integrity of life ; her temper
DEA TH OF A UNT DA WSON. 217
was excellent. She was the most dutiful of daughters,
the kindest of sisters, the warmest and most constant of
friends, and towards me personally, from the time I was
six days old, when I lost my mother, she acted, with
uniform affection, a mother's part. It was consoling to me
to think that, after my marriage, the time she spent with
us in Edinburgh was perhaps the most cheerful and ani-
mated of her life. She extended her affection towards all
my children, and Mr. Fletcher always treated her with the
most grateful love and respect. My daughters took by
turns the office of cheering her old age ; and though the
sacrifice they made in leaving a home they dearly loved,
and the attractions of Edinburgh society, was great, they
never complained ; they felt they were paying the large
debt of gratitude their mother owed her, and the four last
years of her life were cheered by my remaining with her
whenever my duty to my children did not make a temporary
absence indispensable. She was the kindest of neighbours;
there was no gossip at her table; people who met nowhere
else met there, and seemed to forget their small grievances
towards each other in her presence, and it was truly
observed by her nephew, Mr. Dawson of Wighill, on the
day of her funeral, " that he never heard her speak ill of
anybody." Her remains were laid in the north aisle of
Wighill Church, by the side of those of her brother
William. She was buried on the 31st of December 1833.
Early in February 1834, following dear aunty's death,
Mary and I set off for London, in the hope of meeting Dr.
and Mrs. Davy there in April.
We gave up the house at Tadcaster, and made our one-
horse carriage our moveable home for some months, not
wishing to fix on a new residence until the return of our
Malta friends.
I had a strong desire to visit the last resting-place of
218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
my dear friend Mrs. Brudenell, and to close the chapter of
my early life by erecting a tablet to her memory in the
parish church of Hougham, where she was interred near
her children.
We paid a little visit to Mr. and Mrs. Penrose on our
way. She was then ill of the malady which ended her
sweet, intelligent, simple life. I remember her telling me
it was worth while being ill to be so kindly nursed as she
was by her husband. In the very small parsonage of
Bracebridge this accomplished pair enjoyed the pleasures
of refined and literary tastes and pursuits at home, although
much cut off from congenial society.
Mrs. Penrose lent us the " Life of Crabbe," by his son
George, then newly published, and we read it with great
delight at Coleby, where we went next to pay a visit to
the Miss Penroses, the amiable sisters of our dear Mrs.
Arnold. On our way from their house to Grantham, we
went through most singular by-ways and sandy lanes to
find out the grave of my kind old friend Mrs. Brudenell.
It was in the chancel of Hougham Church, where her
unworthy husband had been rector. She was buried
between her two boys, who died very young. It was
more than sixty years since she had lived in Hougham
Rectory, and I could not find a single villager living who
remembered her. At Grantham, which we reached that
evening, I ordered a marble tablet to be put up in
Hougham Church to her memory. Hers were virtues
that deserve to be commemorated. She had a generous
heart and a deep sense of gratitude for benefits disinter-
estedly conferred upon her. This visit to her last resting-
place was to me full of tender and melancholy recollections.
She had gone to Hougham on her marriage, full of
generous affection, hope, and confidence ; she was requited
by neglect and heartless cruelty; and there, after a life
VISIT TO LONDON. 219
of much disquietude, she was laid at rest. "We proceeded,
by short journeys, suited to our mode of travelling, to
London, which we reached on the 25th of March, and
established ourselves in the lodgings which had been taken
for us in Baker Street, Eegent's Park, where we remained
a month, and where we had the disappointment to learn
that Dr. Davy had been obliged to remain at Malta for
another year.
The month we spent in London was full of interest.
Many of our dear Scotch friends were there and in office.
Sir John A. Murray was then Lord Advocate, and we
frequently met people of note at his house. On hearing
from Sir John Murray that I was in London, Lord
Brougham expressed a desire to take me to the Temple
Church the following Sunday, and said he would call
for us at the right time, with his daughter, as he wished
to introduce her "to his early friend Mrs. Fletcher."
This he did ; and we made the best use of the drive in
listening to his interesting conversation. The Lord
Chancellor paid us much friendly attention, and proposed
that we should go the following day to the House of Lords,
where we might hear him speak on his favourite subject
the education of the working classes, which he did admirably.
Another evening we heard him speak on the admission of
Dissenters to Oxford and Cambridge without subscribing
the Thirty-nine Articles. He was opposed by the fluent
Bishop of Exeter (Phillpotts). Miss Brougham was of our
party, to hear her father speak for the first time. It was
interesting to watch her interest in what he said. She sat
next me, her half-sister, Miss Spalding, on the other side.
The young girl often said, " Oh, papa is too angry. Why
is he so angry 1 ?" It was quite true; the excessive
vehemence of the manner rather detracted from than added
to the force of the matter.
220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
We saw and heard at the same time the Great Duke,
also Lords Grey and Holland, but heard no speaking
either among Lords or Commons comparable to Lord
Brougham's.
I saw a good deal at this time of my old Edinburgh
early friend, John Allen, of Holland House notoriety, who
had continued to correspond with my husband, and he
repeated on this occasion of our meeting in London that
he always traced to his conversations as a youth with Mr.
Fletcher the opinions he had early formed and retained of
constitutional liberty.
We saw a great deal of the dear Dr. Boott and his
friendly happy circle in Gower Street ; had some pleasant
meetings and talks with Thomas Campbell and Allan
Cunningham, and spent a delightful evening at Captain
Gowan's with Mount-Stuart Elphinstone, certainly the most
agreeable of men.
We were not sorry after some weeks of excitement to
set off in our chaise-and-one for North Devon, where we
had promised to pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Buckle, near
Ilfracombe, and Mrs. Martin, who shared their home,
then at Watermouth Castle, a large modern Castle beauti-
fully situated near the Bristol Channel From this
agreeable resting-place we made excursions to Clovelly,
a place of wonderful charm and oddity. It is built on a
steep cliff. The one street rising from the bay forms a
steep stair cut in the rocks, which are of most varied form
and colouring, and beautifully clothed with rich vegeta-
tion as you advance up the stair street to the little village
inn.
From Watermouth we went for a week to Lynmouth,
the most perfectly beautiful place, we thought, we had ever
seen ; so much did we talk about it that we began to think
our friends did not believe in such a place, and we agreed
VISIT TO OXTON. 221
to abstain from its praises, except to each other, to avoid
being considered " bores."
We travelled north, stopping at Cheltenham to rest and
see our old friend Lady Williamson of Whitburn, and
after that I went to meet Mrs. Taylor at Oxton, at the
cottage I had furnished for Angus there, and Mary went
along with Catherine Lay cock to prepare a temporary home
which had been secured for us near Hawkshead for a year
by Mr. Harden, who with his family then lived also in
that locality. This house, called Keen Ground, was by
no means commodious or comfortable, but it was near the
quaint little town of Hawkshead, endeared to me by many
recollections of the first summer we spent in the lake
district at Belmont. It was within an easy distance of my
dear old friend Mrs. Smith, who, though now infirm in
health, retained her warm affections and grace of manner.
She made us acquainted with her favourite neighbours, the
Miss Beevers, who lived, and still live, near the village of
Coniston, and have continued the fast friends of our
family from that time. They are the best of neighbours
and most faithful of friends to all who come near them,
rich or poor, old or young.
We passed the winter of 1834-5 at Keen Ground, and
rejoiced in the return of the dear Arnolds to Fox How
that winter, when we paid them a week's delightful visit
aboui: Christmas. We always found ourselves the better,
as well as happier, for associating with them, there was so
much elevation of purpose in all they thought and did ;
and then the home life at Rydal Mount was a great
attraction to us, as well as the kindness we always received
there.
In the May following (the 25th of May 1835) we had
the great happiness of meeting our dear Margaret and her
three eldest children at Kendal, and of bringing them back
222 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
with us to Keen Ground. It is only those who have been
separated from a beloved child for five years without any
other intercourse but such as letters supply, who can know
the happiness of a personal reunion. The heat of Malta
had told on her constitution and looks, but she had the
same bright animated expression of countenance, and all
the tenderness of a mother had been added to the treasures
of her heart's affections. Mrs. Taylor and her little Mary
and my son Angus joined the family party. It was as
happy a summer as the reunion of affectionate friends
could make it, and so unwilling were Mary and I to lose
sight again of Margaret and her family that when they left
us in September we authorized Dr. Davy to take a cottage
for us within an hour's drive of Fort Pitt, where Dr. Davy
had been appointed the chief medical officer. We followed
them in October, Mary taking Rugby on her way to Chatham,
and I going to spend a month in the cottage at Oxton
formerly occupied by my aunt, Mrs. Fretwell, and where
I had established my aunt Dawson's faithful maid Hannah
as housekeeper for Angus, so that he might always have a
comfortable home to go to. She had married after her
old mistress's death a young Methodist farmer, and the
only sounds ever heard from their comfortable kitchen were
hymns sung by this good couple at their evening devotions.
It is strange that the month I spent at this time in my
native village did not strengthen in the least the reminis-
cences of my childhood and youth. I had lived so intensely
during the fifty years I had left that now almost ruinous
house where I was born, and had left at eighteen, that it
was more identified with my imagination as what it then
was, cheerful and neat, with its trim garden in front, gay
with flowers, and its well-trained fruit-trees on the walls,
and its abundant orchard behind, than now in its forlorn,
almost uninhabitable, state.
SETTLING AT DARLAND. 223
Mrs. Brudenell's cottage, where some of the gayest hours
of my childhood were spent, was now inhabited by two
peasants' families, hard- worked men. " Can this (I often
said to myself) really be the place where the joyous years
of my youth were spent 1 surely a blight has passed over
it, so that they who knew and loved it once shall ' know
it no more ! ' " It was mournful for me to feel that I
was the last survivor of that once cheerful village. All
its former inhabitants were gone, and they were replaced
by a depressed, uncheerful-looking set of labourers, with
slovenly wives and ragged children.
After spending our Christmas of 1835 at Fort Pitt, we
entered upon our cottage home at Darland, which Mary
and our Yorkshire maid had prepared for my reception.
It was a beautifully planted and arranged little domain, an
oasis in the desert ; for nothing could be more destitute of
beauty than the chalky hills all round the wooded enclosure
where Darland was situated.
In compliment to the Davys, we had several visitors, but
only made two friends Dr. and Mrs. Eichardson. He
was the Arctic traveller, and then held a staff appointment
at Melville Hospital at Chatham. She was a niece of Sir
John Franklin, a large-hearted, lively, and most interesting
woman. We got intimate at once ; and as her health was
very delicate, she used to come often in summer, with her
baby Josephine, to us, for change of air, and he walked
out in the evening, after the labours of the day were
over. Mary and I used to say that Dr. Richardson's
smile of recognition, when we drove through the ghastly
streets of Chatham, was the only redeeming point in
that dreary drive we took so often on our way to Fort
Pitt.
On Saturday evening, the 18th of March 1837, Mary
and I were sitting in our easy chairs at Darland, as far
224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
" into the fire " as the Scotch folk beg their friends to do,
talking of some episodes of our past lives, and expecting a
parcel of books from Chatham. The parcel came just at
the right time, and contained the first volume of Lockhart's
Life of our great townsman, Walter Scott. I believe it
would be necessary to have lived, as we had done for the
last year and a half, in cold and chalky Kent, to enjoy, as
we did that night, the devouring of the volume, the
names of all so familiar to us, and the persons of most, as
we used daily to meet them in the streets or the drawing-
rooms of our beloved Edinburgh. To us this volume had
all the interest of an old chronicle, so completely is our
present life changed in its daily animation and interest.
No doubt English readers will enjoy it, or think they do,
but a dash of Scotch is necessary thoroughly to enjoy its
charm.
\To Mrs. fiathbone, Green Bank, Liverpool.
" We have lately been reading the ' Life of "Walter Scott '
with deep interest ; for though in matters of public feeling
there was a great gulf between us, we always admired his
genius, and the sweetness and kindness of his nature. The
first sixty pages written by himself are quite refreshing, and
Mr. Lockhart has very ably and skilfully filled up the outline.
Never has a character formed by circumstances been more
strikingly exemplified. He would probably have been an
extraordinary man under any circumstances ; but do we not
owe his varied imagination to his early life at Sandy Knowe,
and his listening there to the ballads and fairy lore of the old
Tweedside shepherds 1
" You cannot conceive what a delight it was to Mary as well
as to me to read what is already published of these memoirs,
in this arid land of chalky hills and official understandings.
After lending the book to the Davys and Richardsons, no one
else among our acquaintances here cared to have it, having no
associations with either books or ballads."]
SWISS TOUR AND LA HARPE. 2'25
On the 1st of June 1836 we set off from Kent, accom-
panied by Angus, on a little tour to Switzerland. Having
kept a journal of our tour, I need not repeat the impres-
sion it made on us here. Late as it was in life for me to
set out on a Swiss tour (I was then sixty-six), I enjoyed it
greatly, and so did my companions. It realized, and more
than realized, all I had conceived of the grand and beauti-
ful in Nature. We saw no form of society that seemed
degraded by poverty or despotism, except that of Savoy,
under the dominion of the King of Sardinia.
[The following letter, returned to me, is worth inserting here,
relating to an interview which interested us all much with
General La Harpe :]
To Mrs. Boott.
" CHATHAM, August 1836.
" I know it will give you and Dr. Boott pleasure to hear
that we have got safely home after a most delightful excursion of
two months, during which we traversed fully two thousand
miles by land and water. By far the most interesting part of
our tour was the month we passed in Switzerland, and we
owed to Dr. Boott the highest gratification we could have had
there, in an hour's animated conversation with his venerable
and interesting friend, General La Harpe. We took the
steamboat from Vevay to Lausanne, and we found the excel-
lent old man in his dressing-gown in his library as serene and
cheerful as if the world without had neither evil nor sorrow in
it. As Dr. Boott's friends he received us not only with courtesy
but kindness, and he evidently delighted to dwell on his per-
sonal obligations to the friendship of Dr. Boott and on the interest
he took in him and you and all your children. We partook of a
collation of fruit, cakes, and wine. He regretted his wife was
from home. Every word he uttered impressed us with the live-
liest respect and affection for him. When he uncovered a bust
of the Emperor Alexander to show it to us, his voice faltered
as he spoke of his many gracious and noble qualities, and he
affirmed confidently that, had he lived, it was his full purpose
P
226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
to give to Poland as free a constitution as she was capable of
enjoying or making a right use of. While Mary and I were con-
versing, or rather listening to him, Angus asked his permission to
take the little sketch which accompanies this. It does not do
him justice, but it has a considerable resemblance, and Angus has
great pleasure in sending it to Dr. Boott. It happened to be the
week of the Tirage at Lausanne, when the best marksmen in
Switzerland meet annually in honour of William Tell and shoot at
a mark. We saw the sharpshooters of the Pays de Vaud arrive,
about five hundred marksmen : every canton sends its quota. It
is a voluntary service, but may be considered as the training of
an excellent militia for Helvetia. We were enchanted with the
grandeur and beauty of the valleys of Lauterbrunnen and Grin-
delwald, and regretted that neither our travelling purse nor the
time we could spare admitted of our remaining another mouth
in these Alpine valleys. We had a magnificent first sight of
Mont Blanc as we left Lausanne, on the clear bright evening of
the 29th of June. The setting sun threw its last rays on that
majestic mountain, and its summit was unclouded, so that at
the distance of sixty miles we distinctly saw its form reflected
on the surface of the Lake of Geneva. Lord Byron mentions
this fact in a note to one of his Cantos of ' Childe Harold,'
but I own that I thought it was a poetical licence till I saw
it with my own eyes.
" You will be glad, dear kind friends, to hear that Mary has
returned from her travels more robust in health than she has
been for six years. This is a great blessing, delightfully earned
by exertions accompanied with an enjoyment we neither of us
can ever forget. Angus enjoyed it too very highly, and the old
woman not less than any of the party. God bless you, dear
friends."
We returned to Dai-land from our tour the last day of
July 1836, and found Mrs. Taylor, her son, and little
daughter Mary there. In the autumn of that year we
made some pleasant excursions to the more picturesque
parts of Kent, and to places full of historical interest and
associations, Penshurst, Knole, and Seven Oaks. I was
WORDSWORTH'S VISIT. 227
disappointed not to find any monumental record of Algernon
Sidney in the beautiful churchyard of Penshurst, but his
epitaph is written in imperishable language in the annals
of his country. Our summer and autumn days were also
diversified by many family and friendly meetings in the
beautiful grounds and forests of Lord Darnley's place, near
Chatham.
We passed the winter of 1836-7 very quietly; but
found our habitation so cold in the severe winters of Kent
that we decided not to spend another winter there, but to
return to the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, where we had
still many interests and attractions which could never
pass away.
[From M. F's Note-look.
We had a most agreeable surprise on the 19th of August
1837. Mrs. Smith, of the dockyard, appeared at Darland
with Wordsworth and Dora. We did not even know the poet
had returned from his Italian tour. He looks somewhat
thinner and paler that when we left Lakeland, and, as he him-
self expresses it, ' is too home-sick to be comfortable,' but he
admired the arrangements of our little garden, and entered,
with his usual indulgence for Nature, into the merits of our
one large elm- tree. He confesses himself to have been too old
for a first visit to Italy, and that his visit with Crabbe
Robinson was too hurried for enjoyment ; that at Rome he
had not time to get over his disappointment at the old and
new being jumbled together ; and he thought the effect of the
Colosseum was lessened by the Popish ornaments being
obtruded into it. He mentioned the beauty of the flowers and
ferns that grew on its walls as its best attractions. He said
he knew too little to make Rome so enjoyable as it might have
been. He made the discovery, also, that he had no real taste
for sculpture, as he fell asleep before the Venus de Medici at
Florence. He was more impressed by the Apollo, because
there is mind there, but without mind he cannot be much
interested in mere form, torsos and other forms, which he
228 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
allows may be very interesting to students of Art. He spoke
with most interest of the ruin at Nismes, and said he saw
nothing in Italy equal to the combined effect of the situation
and edifice of the Pont du Gard at Nismes. Of the maritime
Alps route also, and of the Mediterranean generally, he spoke
with much delight. In Vaucluse he had been in no degree
disappointed ; the colour of the stream and the beauty of the
flowers delighted him much. He deplores the want of fine
timber in Italy, and the entire absence of gentlemen's country
houses and parks throughout the country of France. These
observations chiefly took place on the Sunday evening which
he spent with us. He remarked that he thought the French
peasant improved in a mere animal point of view ; that he
had formerly been much struck with the extreme feebleness of
frame among the French, but this was not the case now. He
mentioned a tree which he had reposed under forty-eight years
ago near Lie'ge as one of great size and beauty, and^while on
this subject he branched off with interest on the comparative
merits of trees. He admires the cypress of the south as a
beautiful spiral accompaniment to a landscape, but he holds
the yew higher as a 'fine creature.' His conversation did not
become truly Wordsworthian, however, till he entered on the
" Life of Scott," three volumes of which he had read. There
was so much feeling, wisdom, and elevation in all he said on
this subject, that, in his own words, we could truly say after
he left us,
" So did he speak,
The words he uttered shall not pass away,
For they sank into me."
And yet to attempt to note them down seems hopeless. He
said that it gave him pain to discover what sufferings Scott had
gone through from his connexion with printers, and the
unworthy shifts he had recourse to, to get rid of his quires of
unsold writings. " It is cruel so to expose a great man's
weaknesses." " Scott's sentiments (he said) sometimes shock
me ; and when I think of his free, frank manner, of what an open
creature he was, and then find that he was involved in all this
load of concealment and evasion, it gives me great pain, it
must do so to all his friends. The day before we parted he
WORDSWORTH'S CONVERSATION. 229
spoke to me much of his portion of happiness in life, which he
considered great ; but it appeared to me at the time that he
did not truly estimate his position as a man of genius. He
appeared to think that the condition of an official under
Government, or that of a country gentleman, was a higher one
than that of a man of genius." This, Wordsworth said, was
the more extraordinary from Scott having been born in the
rank of a gentleman, and, therefore, he ought more truly to
have estimated the real state of the case. Dr. Johnson had
powerfully stated the truth on this subject, and Scott would
have been a wiser and a happier man had he rested on his
genius rather than on his accumulating acres and living beyond
his means. Wordsworth then launched forth on the startling
opinion pronounced by Scott on Johnson's Poem " On the
Vanity of Human Wishes," being the finest poem in the
language. He repeated two or three lines, and dissected them
in the way he used to do some of Lord Byron's.]
In the spring of 1837 Mary and I spent a few weeks in
London, and met with several interesting people. The
first visit we paid was at the house of Mr. and Mrs.
William Gray, in Great George Street, Westminster. I
there met my dear school companion of other days, who
was the mother of Mrs. Gray and the youngest daughter
of Mr. Forster of Bolton. She was then the widow of
General Ker, one of the claimants of the Eoxburgh Duke-
dom and estates. The charm of her character and manners
combined would have graced the high position which the
Scottish Courts of Law gave to her husband, but which the
House of Lords reversed after a ruinous lawsuit of many
years. We renewed our youth together on this pleasant
meeting among her grandchildren, and the loss of what the
world most regards had in no degree lessened the sweetness
of her spirit or the gaiety of her " innocent mirth." She
returned with us to Kent at the end of our London visit.
It was during this visit at Mr. Gray's that I first saw
230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Giuseppe Mazzini. I can truly say that his character, and
the cause to which he devoted his blighted youth and noble
genius, gave, from the time I first formed his friendship, a
new and increasing interest to my declining years.
A letter was brought to me one forenoon, some time in
April, from Count Philip Ugoni, the friend of Madame
De Bossi, who had been so useful to us in Paris, introduc-
ing to my special regard a young Italian exile who at that
time was a friendless stranger in London. I was in Mary's
room at the time, who was ill of influenza, but hastened
down-stairs to receive the exile. I found in the drawing-
room a young, slim, dark Italian gentleman of very pre-
possessing appearance. He could not then speak English,
and I very imperfect French ; but it was impossible not to
be favourably impressed at once by his truth and his
sadness. He told me he was an exile, and without
endeavouring to excite my compassion, or dwelling at all
on his wrongs or his circumstances, by relating any
particulars of his past life, he said his present object was
to obtain admission to some public library, that he might
give himself to literary work. He looked so profoundly
unhappy, and spoke so despondingly of the condition of
his country, and of the genius of Chatterton with such high
admiration, that I foolishly took it into my head, after he
had left me, that he meditated suicide, and, under that
impression, took the privilege of age and experience to
write to him (when I sent him a letter that I thought
would be useful for his present pursuits in London) a
friendly exhortation against the weakness, as well as
wickedness, of yielding to despair, while youth and talents
and moral strength, which I felt he possessed, ought alone,
independently of higher motives, to enable him to meet
with fortitude his present adversity. The answer which I
received to this letter convinced me how much I had mis-
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF G. MAZZINI. 231
taken his meaning, and formed the basis of our future
friendship. It interested me much more than querulous
complaints ; and although we did not meet more than once
again at this time, I was able to be of some use to his
accomplished and excellent friend Ruffini, on our return to
Edinburgh the following winter, and on our next visit to
London we saw Mazzini frequently. We heard from Ruffini
that besides the literary and patriotic work he engaged in,
he devoted himself in the evening hours to the instruction
of fifty or sixty Italian boys, who were traversing the streets
of London all day, selling white mice, playing the hand-
organ, or carrying plaster casts about for sale. These poor
boys were sold for a certain number of years by their
worthless parents to people as worthless, who employed
without instructing them, and they were growing up both
profligate and ignorant. Mazzini could not bear to see his
countrymen thus degraded, not so much by poverty as by
vice, and he devoted two hours every evening to teaching
them to read and write, and imbuing them with some
knowledge of their country's history, aud what it ought to
be in future. All this I heard from Ruffini, as well as that
he had become known to several cultivated people in
London; but no inducements of pleasure or advantage
could tempt him to quit his little Italian school for a single
evening. Thus he became added to my list of heroes, and
I insert his first letter to me in this part of my family
history, that my great-grandchildren may learn from it the
reason of my interest in the prophet of the future unity of
Italy, Giuseppe Mazzini.
Mazzmfs first letter in answer to mine.
" April 1837.
" MADAME, You doubtless suppose that the frankness of
your language displeased me or gave me some pain. Far from
232 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
it ; I am grateful to you for it, as a mark of confidence and
esteem. Perhaps I explained myself ill, perhaps also some of
my expressions would require my life as a commentary to
explain them ; but I desire much, madame, to rectify the im-
pression which I have involuntarily given you. I am naturally
triste ; I am rendered more so by my position, by what I have
suffered not so much by what I have personally suffered, as
by what I have seen those I love and who love me suffer, by
the thousand causes which make exile bitter and life sterile in
these days to us. I am, however, neither abased nor discour-
aged ; I only compared myself to your Chatterton in Jierte, not in
despondency. I believe, historically speaking, that the memory
of Chatterton has been unjustly treated, but I also think that
his despair was a weakness, and a consequence, as you remark,
of an imperfect religious conception. I think also that his
death would have been different had he lived in our days.
" Despair, neutralizing activity, appears to me the highest
point of selfishness. He who despairs of things and of men,
and whom despair makes inactive or leads to quit life, is a man
who has wished only to enjoy, and has made that his chief
thought ; not being able to do that, he destroys his life, either
morally or materially, as the child does its plaything. Now,
I do not consider life a game, but a very serious thing : it is
an office to be fulfilled in the world ; it is a series of duties
to be accomplished in our own improvement or that of others ;
it is virtue, and not happiness, which ought to be the aim of
life. If in following the ways of virtue we find happiness, so
much the better ; but if we do not find it, it should make no
difference in our pursuit. This life, in short, I consider but as
the infancy of another, and when God placed us in the world
He said, ' Work and do good according to the measure of your
power and your knowledge ;' He did not say, 'Be happy.' For
my own part, I do not believe in the happiness of the individual
in my own perhaps less than in that of others, but I
should be the most cowardly and the most inconsistent of men
if, on that account, I should neglect to serve my country or
the cause of my faith. You see, madame, that I am far from
that state which may be called one of despair. I shall then
labour, and intend in some measure to follow your advice. I
LETTERS FROM MAZZINI. 233
think seriously of occupying myself with a work the aim of
which will be to make Italy known to your countrymen, such
as I conceive it to be in its present state, and what it is likely
to become. I shall write it in Italian, but I shall have it
translated. It will be a long and difficult labour ; but although
it is done through my imperfect means, some of the truths
which it will contain may perhaps contribute to sow the seeds
of sympathy between two nations, the one of which is already
great and free, and the other must become so. I now wait for
my books and papers to begin, and am at present engaged to
contribute to a Journal, Le Monde.
" I thank you much, madame, for your kind offer of recom-
mendation, should I wish for pupils. You judge rightly in
supposing that, did I require it, I should not hesitate to give
lessons in my native tongue ; there is nothing in that which
would in the least degree offend me, and I thank you most
cordially for your offers of assistance. Your kindness induces
me to ask your exertions in favour of a young Italian at present
in Edinburgh, whose name is Ruffini.
u GIUSEPPE MAZZINI."
[Second Letter to Mrs. Fletcher.
"April 1840.
" Permit me to write to you, and permit me to make use for
this time of a language which you know, and which is more
familiar to me than yours. I write under the impression of a
strong feeling of gratitude, and I feel a desire to let my pen go
freely, to write as I used to speak to you, without stopping
even for a moment to consider the form of my thoughts. I
am always doubtful when I write in your language, which
causes me a sort of painful feeling of restraint. Now, I wish
to have pleasure in writing to you. I have first to thank you
for the kindness with which you treat my friend Ruffini, 1 and
1 Agostino Ruffini (the brother of Giovanni Ruffini, the author of " Doctor
Antonio " and other works) passed eleven years of exile in Edinburgh ; and
it is a comfort to think that this period was rendered as little painful as
was possible in his circumstances by the respect and affection his virtues
and talents inspired among all the friends he had there. He accepted the
234 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
then the remembrance which you have kept of me ; and to me
it is delightful that it is through a tie of gratitude that I am
led to renew our acquaintance. I had a desire to do so, in
order to efface a painful feeling, not in you, who are too kind
to remember what is wrong in others, but in myself. It
reproaches me for having, during so long a period, neglected
the first person who took an interest in me in London. I was,
when I had the honour of knowing you there, in a moral state
quite peculiar, tormented by a thousand chagrins, and brought
by a course of real causes to believe that my friendship or my
acquaintance could not give the least pleasure to any one, and
might easily become a burthen. I did not wish that, and so I
found myself imperiously drawn towards a melancholy isolation.
It was more a punishment to myself than a wrong done to
others. Yet it was wrong. The happiness, or unhappiness,
of our individual life should not interfere with our duties ; it
is not upon them, but upon the higher good, that our conduct
should depend. I understood that very soon, and I wished to
see you again, but you were I believe not in London, and I did
not know your place of residence. I spoke of you to the few
people whom I knew, among others to a man I much esteem,
and who said he knew you, Mr. Thomas Carlyle, but he did
not know your address at the time. I did not expect to find
you again in Edinburgh, doing good to me in the person of my
friend. As for him, I need not recommend him to you any
more ; I will only assure you that he deserves all that you can
do for him, and he is one of those whose sincere and lasting
gratitude is assured to every mark of benevolence and sympathy.
The flower of the souls of us exiles is faded, but, thanks to
God, the perfume has remained. Ruffini tells me you are
about to spend some time at the Lakes of Westmoreland, but
that you will let me know when you visit London. Till then,
madame, think sometimes of me ; and believe in the gratitude
and esteem of GIUSEPPE MAZZINI." ]
We passed the summer of 1837 at Darland, unmarked
amnesty of 1848 and returned to Piedmont, filled an office at Turin with
great ability and benefit to his country, and died of a very painful illness
at Taggia in 1855, mourned and loved in no common measure.
RETURN TO EDINBURGH. 235
by any event, but in happy intercourse with our friends at
Fort Pitt, and in increased intimacy with the Richard-
sons.
We remained in Kent till after the birth of dear little
Humphry Davy, who was born on the 15th September
1837. We saw him christened and his mother recovered,
and then set off for Yorkshire, travelling in our slow
fashion, and taking Cambridge on our way.
It Avas towards the end of October when we reached
Oxton, where we intended to remain for some weeks with
Angus, to be near my aunt, Miss Hill. Angus, at his own
desire, had then embarked in a speculation in London, on
which he entered about that time; but we took possession
of the cottage he had occupied, and the winter set in so
early and so severely, one snowstorm after another, that
we were compelled to remain there till the beginning of
February 1838. Our trunks and books had been sent off
to Edinburgh, and we were detained three weeks before it
was possible to set off on our journey north. Our only
resource was to send for materials to clothe the poor of the
village, and we and our maidens set busily to work, and
this saved us from all fretfulness and impatience, as is well
observed by an anonymous writer in " Chambers's Journal"
"that impatience always springs from a bitterer root
than itself." Now, this wholesome occupation of working
for the poor counteracted the selfishness that would have
made us impatient at our detention at Oxton.
We had a somewhat adventurous journey through the
frozen piles of snow on each side of the roads by Wooler
and Cornhill. The roads became heavier and deeper as
we proceeded northward, and for many a weary mile we
travelled through almost untracked snow, except such
tracks as a few coal-carts made dreariness and desolation
on all sides of this Siberian landscape. Another day
23G AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
brought us to Lauder, and the following day we reached
Edinburgh.
We were most kindly welcomed by our good friends
Mr. and Mrs. Craig, in Great King Street, and their house
was our hospitable and most agreeable home for several
weeks, till we established ourselves at the pretty villa of
Duncliffe, about two miles west of Edinburgh.
Our return to Edinburgh as residents, after an interval
of ten years, could not fail to be attended with many
touching remembrances. Many of those whom we had
left aged were gone, the middle-aged had become grey-
headed, and children then in the nursery had reached
manhood. Many whom we had left hard- worked Advocates
were now raised to the Bench. Foremost among these old
friends were Lords Cockburn, Jeifrey, and Cuninghame.
The Whigs were still in office, and Edinburgh still retained,
in our eyes, its unrivalled beauty and unbounded hospital-
ity. We had no reason to regret returning to a place
where we still had many friends, and where we were
received with so kindly a welcome.
We were most pleasantly situated at Duncliffe as to
neighbours, about equal distances from Craigcrook and
Belmont, where Lord Mackenzie then lived with his de-
lightful wife and children a home of rare cultivation,
charm, and goodness combined. It was in September of
that year we had the great pleasure of meeting Mrs. Fry
at dinner at Lord Mackenzie's, and of attending a Friends'
meeting at which she spoke, as well as at a meeting for
constituting a female committee for visiting prisons. It was
a great privilege to meet and be acquainted with Elizabeth
Fry ; she was one of those rare spirits whom Milton
describes in words that cannot die :
" Thy love is fixed, and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light,
And hope that reaps not shame."
LETTER FROM MR. TICKXOR. 237
That winter of 1838-9 was passed most pleasantly at
Duncliffe, where old friends came sociably to cheer our
winter days, and Mary was actively engaged in visiting
Bridewell and the House of Eefuge.
On many snowy days, when no visitors were looked for,
Lord Jeffrey was good enough to include Duncliffe in his
Avalks after he left the Court of Session. His conversa-
tion, always full of intellectual variety and power, had
become as remarkable for gentleness and kindness of feel-
ing as it had always been for force. We met many agreeable
strangers both at Craigcrook and at his winter home in
Moray Place, and never failed to experience a large measure
of his kindness, in spite of our differences of creed on
Wordsworth and Joanna Baillie, subjects now mutually
avoided. This reminds me to say that my maternal vanity
was fed by receiving, about this time, a very pleasant letter
from Joanna Baillie, which I have put aside for the Family
Memorials, and one from Mr. George Ticknor of Boston,
along with two copies of the American edition of "Conceal-
ment," printed at Philadelphia. Mr. Ticknor says he had
no hand in it ; he had sent a copy to the press at Boston
from a conviction that it would be a very useful book for
his countrywomen to read. When he met with this edition
from the Philadelphia press, he stopped the New England
one. Speaking of America after their late visit to England,
in the same letter, Mr. Ticknor says :
" We are, as you know, established in our circle again in
our happy and prosperous country. I cannot tell you what a
pleasure this is. Whatever may be said of us by persons of
different views on the principles of government, it is fully
admitted that we are unlike any other people, I think grow-
ing more so by force of our free institutions, so that we who
have been born and bred here, and become attached to the
country, are not likely to become substantially and equally
238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
happy anywhere else. I am sure this is the case with me. I
have lived, at two different periods, eight years in Europe, and
yet could never for a moment have the proper feeling of home
or its true contentment while I was there."
This is a delightful testimony to the truth of country
and home affections in an American of cultivated taste and
real refinement.
[From Joanna Baillie to Mrs. Fletcher.
" 1838.
"Your friendly letter of the 21st of May was more than I
deserved. I have long wished to tell you that I think Mrs.
Davy's notices of Sir Walter's short abode at Malta are given
with great delicacy and truth of observation ; and there are no
notices in the whole seven volumes that I like better I ought
rather to say so well. How very touching it is to trace, as
she gives it, the fading away of his mind and memory in the
drive they took together in the country. After praising Miss
Austen and the other female authors, he says, ' And there is an
Irish lady too' (I cannot tell you how these words went to my
heart) Maria Edgeworth, whom he had lived with and tra-
velled with, and whose writings he would most undoubtedly
have prized far beyond others. The confusion of his ideas and
the sweetness of his disposition are in this portion of his life
more naturally marked perhaps than in any other. So much
was I pleased with your daughter's discriminating, modest
statement, that I had intended writing to you forthwith upon
the subject, when other things came in the way, and so my
intention became one of those with which, as Sir Walter says
in one of his letters, the ' pavement of hell ' is composed.
" Our neighbour, Mrs. Hoare, whose late excellent husband
was one of the original committee, along with Clarkson, for
the abolition of the slave-trade, is as little satisfied with the
biographers of Mr. Wilberforce as you are. Surely their father
had honour and credit enough fairly won without robbing others
to enrich him. How richly have the lovers of biography been
supplied of late in having two such men as Walter Scott and
Wilberforce brought before them more or less skilfully, indeed
Jlf/SS HILL'S ILLNESS. 239
with all the varied, extraordinary circumstances of their lives,
cheerfulness and activity being the natural temperament of
both."]
Early in the spring of 1839 we received alarming
accounts of my aunt Hill's health. I had written to her
some weeks before, mentioning our intention of visiting
Mrs. Davy in May ; and knowing she did not like to be
troubled Avith guests in her house, I proposed to take
lodgings at Thorp Arch, to be near her for a week or two.
To this proposal I received no answer till I heard of her
illness, and that she wished us to go to the Grange at once.
We found her much reduced in strength, but care and good
nursing brought her round, and before we set off for London
I had the comfort of leaving with her a most respectable
person as her companion and attendant. Miss Hill took
leave of us cheerfully, and wished us to visit her on our
return.
We had scarcely been a week in London and another
at Fort Pitt before we were recalled to Yorkshire, by hear-
ing that Miss Hill had fallen in her own drawing-room
and dislocated her hip, which at her age was very danger-
ous. We set off the following day by railroad to Manches-
ter (our first railway journey) and returned to the Grange
early in June. We found my aunt in a state of great
suffering, which she bore with wonderful patience. Her
interest in the poor never diminished. I told her one
morning I had no fewer than nineteen Irish haymakers
already arrived in her back court that morning at breakfast.
Her countenance brightened up as if I had told of a piece
of good fortune. She loved the poor more and more as
she approached nearer and nearer to God. She never was
a great talker about religion, but every action of her life
emanated from the pure love of God. She held the two
great commandments the love of God and her neighbour
240 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
as the light and guide of life. She had many natural
infirmities of temper to contend with, and she often men-
tioned with amusement an observation of a poor woman
about her life when she was contrasting her own troubles
with Miss Hill's freedom from them, " You have had a level
life ;" but (she added) I told her that did not always follow,
as she supposed ; that a " level " life had its trials and diffi-
culties as great perhaps as many she had to bear, of a differ-
ent kind " trials from within." She often said old age
was to her the happiest portion of life, because repose came
with it.
[Mrs. Fletcher to Mrs. Davy.
" THE GRANGE, 1st July 1839.
" Still poor Miss Hill lingers in a state of great feebleness and
suffering, but of much greater quietness and repose for herself
and those around her than last week. Yesterday our dear
Mary and I set off for Leeds, at seven in the morning, and I
saw her and Janet safe in and on the Kendal coach at ten. It
is quite a relief to me that this dear child is on the way to give
and receive gratification she could not have had here. She
was most unwilling to leave me. You once, dear Margaret,
reminded me that I was more desirous to consult my children's
pleasure than their performance of duty, and I did not venture
to gainsay your gentle rebuke ; but in this case Mary has
neglected no duty. I am well, and able to perform the task
that is before me. It is plainly my duty to be here, because
Miss Hill often asks for me, and if I am not by her bedside, I
am in the garden or the hay-field, and can be with her in a
moment.
" Among the treasures of old books Mary has found here, in
the room we were never before permitted to enter, not the least
valuable is an old black-letter Bible. There is a Prologue to
the Psalms (as it is called), by St. Basil the Great, worthy of
all admiration. I must give you a screed from it. He says
' Now whereas the Prophets have doctrines proper to them-
LETTER FROM MRS. FLETCHER. 241
selves, and the Books of the Divine Hystorys -written by them-
selves, and the Proverbial Books have their several kind of
exhortations, the Book of the Psalms comprehends in itself the
whole commodities of all their doctrines afore-said ; for it
prophecieth of things to come ; it recyteth the historys ; it
showeth laws for the government of life ; it teacheth what
ought to be done ; and, to be short, it is a common storehouse
of all good doctrine which doth aptly distribute matter to
every man peculiar to himself. .... The Psalme is the rest
of the soule, the rodde of peace ; it stilleth and pacifieth the
raging billows of the mind ; it doth assuage and mollefie the
raging power and passion of the soule ; it maketh amitie where
was discorde ; it knitteth friends together ; it returneth enemies
to an unity again ; for who can long repute him as an enemy
with whom he joineth himself in lifting up his voice to God in
prayer ] Oh ! wise and marvelous device of our Heavenly
School-master, who should invent that we should so pleasantly
sing, and therefore profitably learn, whereby wholesome doc-
trine might be the deeper printed in us.'
" Now, I think you will admire St. Basil as much as we do.
Don't vex yourself about my loneliness, dear M., for with
the Psalms and St. Basil I am not lonely. Then here is a
bright sunny day and a cheerful hay-field, for we began our
hay-harvest in the Crab Garth this morning."
Letter from Mrs. Fletcher to her daughter Mary at
Fox How.
" GRANGE, July 1839.
" I have just had your welcome letter of Tuesday. You seem
to be in Paradise, with none but happy spirits about you. I
can see you every minute at dear Fox How with our beloved
Mrs. Arnold, all her children about her except Jane ; but I can
scarcely imagine her without Dr. Arnold. When does he return 1
" Well, dear child, I wrote to you on the 10th, the day of our
good aunt's release from suffering. I desired Panuett to con-
vene eight of the poorest of Miss Hill's tenants to carry her
remains from the churchyard gate to the family vault in Tad-
caster Church on Saturday. They had their breakfast at Betty
Leed's cottage. Many of the most respectable inhabitants
Q
242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
followed the procession uninvited, and dressed in deep mourn-
ing. Crowds of children gathered round the procession, and I
truly believe there were many sincere and grateful mourners,
both old and young. Angus and I walked first, as mourners,
George Fletcher and the Shanns also.
"Our Vicar gave us really an excellent funeral sermon the next
day, from the words (14th Luke, 14th verse) ' For they can-
not recompense thee, but thou shalt be recompensed at the
resurrection of the just.' He dwelt with much truth and very
good taste on her devotion to the poor to their moral and
spiritual as well as their temporal interests ; on her calling
together the maimed, the poor, and the blind, and not the rich
neighbours. In short, I had no idea of our Vicar being able
to touch so many points of her character without exaggeration
or false taste. I shed many more tears at his sermon than at
her deathbed ; for solemn and awful as it was, thankfulness
for the mercy of God, in hearing her earnest prayers for deliver-
ance from suffering, was the strongest emotion I felt at the
moment, and tender respect and reverence for her memory have
been my abiding feelings ever since. Almost the only words
she uttered for the last few days of her life were ' My
Father's arms,' ' My Father's arms,' often repeated. I think
it was a mixed feeling of longing and reverence for her two
strongest affections her heavenly and her earthly Father.
She longed for both in no common measure.
" Do you know, dear Mary, I am sometimes uncomfortable at
the idea of this door being closed against the poor and miser-
able, to whom it has been opened for more than half a cen-
tury ? But I must compound with my conscience by making
G S my almoner here to a liberal extent ; none knows
better than he does who most need assistance, or will better
administer it."]
It was during Mary's visit at Fox How at this time that
she told me, in one of her letters, that the proprietor of the
little mountain farm of Lancrigg had come to her a week
before she left Fox How, to fulfil a promise he had made
her, some years before, not to part with Lancrigg without
EXTRACTS FROM M. f.'S NOTES. 243
letting us know. At that time he said, " I thought it never
could be ; but now it must be, for my sons have brought
me into trouble."
I have requested Mary to copy here the part of the
journal she kept for me at the time relating to this little
episode, which led to such happy results, and which came
to her, as to me, quite unsought ; and had she not been in
the neighbourhood at the time, we might not have heard
of this little possession again.
Mary had seen a great deal of the Wordsworths, both at
Fox How, their own Mount, and at Miss Fenwick's, who
then lived at Gale House, Ambleside. She was an old and
esteemed friend of mine during her Northumbrian life, and
Mary paid her a visit at this time.
[Extract from M. F.'s Notes.
Fox How, August 1839.
Last evening I went to meet the Rydal Mount party at Miss
Fenwick's. On consulting Mr. Wordsworth about the beauti-
ful little farm of Lancrigg (now for sale), in Easedale, he entered
into the subject most kindly, and offered to find out for us its
real value. He described the tangled copse and a natural ter-
race tinder the crag as a very favourite resort of bis and his
sisters in bygone days, and said of the little " Rocky Well,"
" I know it by heart." He then asked Mrs. Wordsworth to
look at his Miscellaneous Sonnets and read the one suggested
to him there by the likeness of a rock to a sepulchral stone in
that hazel copse. This she did with much expression. At this
time he wore a green shade, and his head was usually bent
down, his eyes being weak. He remembered two or three
lines of the Sonnet, not the whole. It begins
" Mark the concentred hazels that enclose
Yon old grey stone protected from the ray
Of noontide suns."
On Sunday, as we were going to Rydal Church, we met
Wordsworth with an Italian gentleman of the name of Miers,
whom he was going to put on the way to Grasmere. We
244 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
walked a little way with them ; and as the poet, on Italian
politics, is all we can desire, I asked him to inquire from Mr.
Miers, who was going to dine at Rydal Mount, if he knew any-
thing about Mazzini at Genoa. Last night Mrs. Arnold and I
sat with Mr. Wordsworth for above an hour, and he gave us
many interesting particulars which he had heard from this
Italian gentleman, with whom he had been much pleased. He
said he had asked him about Mazzini, and heard a very high
character of him in every respect. Mr. Miers said that shortly
before leaving Italy he had called on the mother of Mazzini to
ask her commands for her son. She was not well, but she
said, "Don't tell Giuseppe that you found me ill, but tell
him that not a day of my life passes that I do not thank God for
having given me such a son." Mr. Miers added that "it was
worthy of a Spartan mother ; but what made it so valuable
was, that it was uttered by a Christian one."
Wordsworth spoke with strong and deep feeling of the present
state of Italy and the crushing despotism of Austria, supported,
as it is in secret, by Russia and Prussia. There is no law of
copyright in Italy, so that the more excellent a book is the less
chance an author has of making anything of the fruits of his
mind. Wordsworth's discourse last night was varied, accurate,
moral in its tone, and admirably descriptive of some scenes at
Nismes especially, not a trace of age or forgetfulness, not a
link displaced in the chambers of imagery, or in the moral
bearings of the subjects he was discussing. I cannot think
that Milton himself could have talked more loftily against
despotism, or more excellently on truth and justice.]
Owing to Miss Hill's death it was not necessary for
Mary to return to me in Yorkshire ; and as soon as I had
settled all my affairs, consequent on the succession to my
aunt's property, I rejoined her at Duncliffe in September
1839.
We very soon entered on the possibility of the pro-
jected purchase of Lancrigg as a summer refreshment, and
as her future home at my death, and as I cordially entered
into the plan, we authorized Mr. Wordsworth to act as our
MR. WORDSWORTH, HIS DAUGHTER'S LETTER. 245
agent in the affair, which he was most kindly pleased to
undertake ; and as few people have ever been so favoured
as to have had such a poet as their man of business, or such
a clerk as his beloved daughter Dora, I here insert her
letter to my daughter on the final arrangements, received
in October 1839:
From Dora Wordsworth to Mary F.
" RYDAL MOUNT, October 2\st, 1839.
" My father, who is gone down to Calgarth, where he
remains all night, requested me to inform you that this
morning he had a long interview with old Rowlandson, which
ended in his agreeing to purchase the property of Under
Lancrigg for one thousand and thirty pounds, seventy pounds
less than Mr. R at first asked ; but my father particularly
desired that I might say the price ' was very handsome, and
more than he was likely to get from any other person, and yet,
duly weighing the interests of buyer and seller, his conscience
allowed him to take the land at that price.' My father named
to Mr. R. the time when it best suited Mrs. Fletcher to take
possession. His reply was, ' The custom of the country is to
pay down the purchase-money on the 1 4th February, when the
purchaser comes into possession of the ploughed land, of the
pasture land 26th April, of the houses 12th May; and it
would not be convenient for me, on account of my farmer, to
depart from this custom.' And my father ventured to say
that, under these circumstances, doubtless Mrs. Fletcher would
be willing to abide by the custom. My father desired me to
express his great satisfaction at your becoming possessors of
this little property, which has for so many years been so dear
to him and his, and where so many happy hours have been
passed by them ; and his earnest wish that many years of like
happy enjoyment may fall to your and Mrs. Fletcher's share, in
which wish I most cordially unite, as would my mother and
Miss Fenwick were they here, but they left Ambleside this
morning for a three weeks' absence in the county of Durham,
my mother to her relatives at Stockton-upon-Tees, Miss
Fenwick to hers at Whitton, where she is to meet Mr. Henry
246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Taylor and his bride, whom he is bringing down to introduce
to his father and mother. They were married at Hastings on
Thursday. Almost the last thing my mother said to me was,
' Be sure you write to me as soon as your father has completed
the bargain with Eowlandson, that I may tell the pleasant
news to Mrs. Arnold, and, indeed, we shall give pleasure to
many by this "bit of news.'" Mr. Allen Harden looked so
bright upon it to-day ; he is here on his return from Italy
only for a few days."
In May 1840 I took lodgings at Thorney How,
Grasmere, to enable us to superintend the alterations we
intended to make at Lancrigg, so as to fit it for our summer
quarters and Mary's future home. This furnished us with
occupation and interest of a varied kind, assisted as we
were by the advice and kindly interest taken in our
new possession by Mr. "Wordsworth and his ladies at the
Mount.
[The following extracts from a family note-book, written at
the time, may be worth inserting here as relating chiefly to
our intercourse with the inmates of Rydal Mount after we
became stateswomen in Easedale :
From M. F.'s Note-book.
We reached Thorney How on the 1st June 1840, from
Edinburgh. The day was bright and " beautiful exceedingly "
when we reached our old mountain lodging and took
possession of our bonny bit of earth adjoining to this
little farm, which looked its best to welcome us. Mrs. Taylor,
her Mary, and Angus had arrived some days before, and our
old landlady of the summer 1833 gave us a kindly welcome.
It is a goodly corner we have lighted on " to bigge our-
selves a bower in," and a dream of former days seems about
to be realized without much effort on our part. So far it is
safer than if it had been eagerly pursued. The beauty of
Easedale is even greater than we remembered it to be, and
Lancrigg so cheerful and innocent-looking, basking in the
WALK WITH WORDSWORTH OVER LANCRIGG. 247
sun. I hope we shall not spoil it. The Wordsworth party
were kind enough to call the day after we came, but we had
gone to Green Head Ghyll to get a supply of bread from the
chief baker of the place, and missed them.
On Thursday we called at the Mount, and the following
day, the 4th June, Wordsworth came to an early dinner here.
He was in a very happy mood, and threw himself into the
interests of our possession in a most engaging manner.
After dinner we all walked over the Intack part of
Lancrigg to our boundary wall, and to the point the poet
especially admires, as commanding the wild mountain view
into Far Easedale on one side, and the more cultivated peep
into the Vale of Grasmere on the other, with the church-
tower, the lake, and the end of Loughrigg as the boundary,
which is a kind of sun-dial from that point of view. We
went through the West Copse, which led us past Kitty Crag
to Far Easedale, and back to Thorney How by the flat part
of the valley which goes by the name of Boothwaite, a
favourite evening stroll of the poet.
After this we had many meetings of real business with
several neighbours Wordsworth consulted, because, as he
said, "They understand these things much better than I
do." When we attempted to thank him for the trouble he
was taking for us, he took leave, saying, " I always feel that
those who receive a benefit kindly also confer a favour."
July 31st we spent at Rydal Mount, a bright evening.
Mr. Henry Taylor 1 and his lovely wife came with Miss
Fenwick. He is still very handsome, with much of thought
and power in his countenance. Mr. Wordsworth told us of
a vioit they had a few days before from the Princes of
Ashantee, and added, " They were very good company ; "
and the ladies spoke of the pleasing expression of the
younger Prince. It is to be hoped they may escape being
eaten by their subjects when they return. What a contrast
a tea-party at Rydal Mount, perhaps the highest point in
man's civilized life in all its bearings, and a cannibal carousal
in the jungles of Ashantee ! It would be very interesting to
trace the progress of these two Princes, if one could really
1 Author of " Philip Van Artevelde."
248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
get near their minds. They are at present under the care of
a judicious tutor of the name of Pyne.
The following evening we went to drink tea with our
cousins the Williamsons, 1 at Mary Fisher's, where Mr. and
Mrs. Wordsworth joined us, walking from and back to Rydal
Mount over the fell way. Mary Fisher had been their
servant in their early days at the cottage at Town End.
After tea the conversation turned on Crabbe and his poetry.
Wordsworth considers him a dull man in conversation. He
said he did not either give information, nor did he enliven
any subject by discussion. He spoke highly of his writings
as admirable specimens of the kind, but he does not like the
misanthropic vein which runs through them. He was sur-
prised to hear from my mother that Crabbe's prose style was
so stiff and artificial in his letters. He said that generally
good writers of verse wrote good prose, especially good
letters. " Cowper's letters are everything that letters can be,
and many of Burns's are marvellous." His brother Gilbert,
too, was an excellent prose writer. I attribute this very
much to the method pursued by their father, and described by
their tutor, Mr. Murdoch, a youth engaged to teach them.
He details it in a letter in Dr. Currie's " Life of Burns."]
A few days after our return to Duncliffe we were
followed by dear Margaret and her five children, Dr. Davy
having been requested by Lord Palmerston to undertake
a special service at Constantinople with the view of effect-
ing some reform in the medical department of the Turkish
army, which had been agreed upon between the British and
Turkish Governments.
We spent a happy winter at Duncliffe with this addition
1 Mr. and Mrs. Williamson. He was the only child of my mother's early
friend and cousin, E. Dawson of Wighill, who married a Lincolnshire
clergyman and died in 1800. The second wife of her son and my mother
became intimate friends, and met frequently both at Lancrigg and at
their home, Headingly Parsonage near Leeds. They now live at
Fairstowe near Bath, doing good which will live after them in the
hearts of the many orphans her loving care has rescued from misery and
WESTMORELAND WORKMEN. 249
to our family, preferring to adopt the plan of joint house-
keeping to having separate establishments.
Mary and I returned to Thorn ey How in April 1841,
to expedite the proceedings of the dilatory workmen of the
valley, who were highly amused at my Yorkshire activity
in expecting them to be at work at seven A.M., and express-
ing surprise that the old men mounted the ladders and the
young stood in idleness below. Our chief carpenter and
man of affairs, old Edward W , was a fine example both
in look and manner of the Westmoreland artisan. He
told us that in our absence he discovered one morning that
the foundation of one of the walls of the old part of the
house had given way in the night, and that it was necessary
for the safety of the building that the wall should be taken
down and a new foundation made. The reply of the
builders was, " They 're nobbut women, they '11 niver find
it out." Our protector replied, " It mun come down. If
they are nobbut women, we munna be rogues."
Another of our Grasnaere wallers amused us by his opinion
of Mr. Wordsworth. My daughter, when enforcing her
desire to have the chimneys like those in Troutbeck, said,
" Mr. Wordsworth thinks they are the best for this country,
and we must do what he tells us." " Yes," said the man,
deliberately, " M'appen he has as much sense as most on
us."
On the 16th of July 1841, the anniversary of the fiftieth
year since my marriage, we took possession of our dear
little Lancrigg home.
We spent a very pleasant autumn seeing much of our
friends at Fox How and other kind neighbours ; Hartley
Coleridge, often coming in to share our early dinner, and
who, with his gentle oddity and large range of contempla-
tion over his own thoughts, always added something to our
stock of ideas by these wandering visits. We never made
250 A UTOBIO GRAPH Y.
out whether he liked us or not, but we always made him
welcome.
Our pleasant villa at Duncliffe had during our absence
been sold in a somewhat illegal manner, so that we were
obliged to move, and I authorized Mrs. Davy to take the
large old-fashioned house of Murrayfield, which was nearer
Edinburgh, and which accommodated our united families
comfortably for the winter.
Dr. Davy returned from Constantinople and joined us at
Murrayfield in January 1842. A very few nights after his
return I met with a bad accident by a fall down stairs.
There was a deep cut and bruise on one side of my fore-
head, and I was some hours, perhaps days, under the im-
pression that the injury might be of a serious nature, but
I bless God I never for a moment lost consciousness, and if
I were asked to mention three days of my active and
varied life I would wish to live over again, I think I should
say those three days that succeeded this accident, so intense
was the feeling of devout thankfulness that it had pleased
God to preserve my life and senses from sudden and afflict-
ing disorder. My recovery was wonderfully rapid at the
time.
We returned to Lancrigg the end of April 1842 to com-
plete the furnishing of the house and begin gardening
operations. Angus joined us soon after, and one day after
being overheated by a long walk as I was resting on the
sofa in the drawing-room and Angus was reading to me, I
was suddenly seized with a giddiness in the head, the room
and everything seemed whirling round me, and though I
never lost consciousness these attacks returned so frequently
as to alarm both myself and my family ; the seizures were
so sudden and my helplessness under them so great as to
threaten danger. Dr. Davy had the great kindness to
come from Edinburgh to attend me ; he remained with us
MRS. FLETCHER'S ILLA T ESS. 251
a month, and by his skill and attention, under the Divine
blessing, the remedies applied proved successful. While
this tendency to vertigo continued, I was not allowed
either to read or write much, nor could I converse without
feeling a heat of head which I had never experienced before
my accident. It was a summer of uncommon beauty. I
sat much under the oak-tree, and carriage exercise always
agreed with me.
[It was during this time, when our dear mother was laid
aside from her usually healthy and vigorous life for the first
tune in my recollection, that an event so mournful to our
locality, and indeed to all England, occurred Dr. Arnold's
sudden death. We experienced on that occasion a pleasing
mark of attention from one of our peasant neighbours, who
lived between Rydal and Grasmere. The intelligence of this
event reached the members of the Arnold family then at Fox
How very early on Monday morning ; and this neighbour,
knowing of my mother's illness, and of the great intimacy that
subsisted between us, and fearing she might hear it suddenly
in one of her daily drives, walked to Lancrigg and reached it
before 7 A.M. She asked to see me in my room. This enabled
me, in some degree, to break the suddenness of the shock to
my mother ; and it was a pleasing testimony of the interest
this neighbour took in both families. There was a long sus-
pension at this time, owing to her illness, of any continuation
in her family records of the sad events of that summer, for in
August of the same year the two youngest little boys of Dr. and
Mrs. Davy were cut off in one week by virulent scarlet fever,
and interred in one grave in the West Church Cemetery hi
Edinburgh. In writing of it afterwards, our mother says, in
1844] :
It was a sorrowful season; for not only had family
affliction, in the death of the two dear little grandchildren,
befallen us, but we had lost a neighbour and friend whom
we both loved and honoured. This was no other than that
great and good man, Dr. Arnold of Rugby. He died of
252 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
spasm of the heart, on the 1 2th June 1842, after a few hours
of acute suffering. He was taken away in the midst of his
great usefulness and wonderful happiness, leaving a wife
and nine children and such a wife ! sharing his every
thought and devoting herself to his happiness with un-
equalled tenderness. As I said in writing to her long be-
fore his death, and can now repeat, with more confirmed
conviction of their truth as applied to him than of any
man I have ever known, Milton's words he lived in their
large Christian import
" As ever in his Great Taskmaster's eye."
The sensation the death of this eminent scholar and truly
Christian philosopher produced in our valley was remark-
able. He had only spent a small part of the last eight
years of his life here, and yet, without popular manners,
his excellence, his gentle-heartedness, and genuine humility
of mind, had made the poor consider him their friend, and
the rich their genial and kind-hearted neighbour.
The return of his bereaved family to Fox How without
him, this sad, sad summer, was an affecting circumstance
to all of us. Their light had indeed become dim, but was
not extinguished ; for his works and his life, written by a
faithful chronicler, will guide and comfort the lovers of
Christ and goodness so long as the English language
endures.
My friend Lord Jeffrey writes to me in a letter lately
received :
[" What you say of Arnold, and what I have been reading
of his correspondence, will make the neighbourhood still dearer
and more interesting to me when we make out our visit to you.
It is long since I have met with anything at once so loveable
and so exalted. He was truly a noble creature ; with the
firmness of a hero, he had the softness of a woman, the devot-
edness and zeal of an apostle or a martyr, and the gentleness
LAST EDINBURGH WINTER. 253
and lowliness of a bashful child. I do not now wonder at
what I used to think the exaggeration with which Mary used
to speak of his character and the charm of his home life. It
is sad to think that such an example and such a teacher should
have been so early lost to the world.
" I feel, I believe, as you do as to poor T. Campbell ; and if
I had not always all your indulgence for his faults, I am sure
I am now disposed to remember nothing but his genius and his
virtues, for I am quite aware that he had many virtues and
endearing qualities, though they were more apt to give them-
selves out to such gentle natures as yours than to those on
whose ' pigeon livers ' he could not so well rely. I am glad
to see they mean to give him a monument in Westminster
Abbey. I am now agitating for one at Glasgow also. God
bless you. FRANCIS JEFFREY."
We spent the winter of 1842-43 at Murrayfield very
quietly, as prudence was strongly enforced on me since
my late illness.
Lord Jeffrey and Mrs. Mackenzie were among our kindest
and most frequent visitors, and we could scarcely have had
any society more to our taste. Lord Cockburn also looked
in upon us often, with his clear eyes and grand forehead
still untouched by age or wrinkles.
We returned in April 1843 to Lancrigg, and as age was
beginning to make me feel frequent journeys and the care
of two houses somewhat irksome, we resolved henceforth to
make Lancrigg our permanent summer and winter home.
We were decided to make this arrangement by Dr. and
Mrs. Davy having resolved to sell their house in Edinburgh,
where they had suffered so much, and to establish them-
selves for the future in the Lake district. They bought a
few acres of land a short distance from Ambleside, on the
way to Rydal, and built an excellent house there, which was
just finished and inhabited before Dr. Davy accepted an
appointment offered to him in his own department in the
254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
West Indies. His mind was too active to be happy at his
age without useful employment.
Thus, much to my contentment, it came to pass that we
formed a little family colony in a district early endeared
to us by frequent visits, by many enduring friendships,
and, besides the abiding charm of the " everlasting hills,"
possessing a circle of people singularly free from the frivo-
lities of fashionable life, while it combined still "plain living
and high thinking " at the fountain-head 1 of that glorious
Sonnet. There was also more than ordinary cultivation
among the gentlefolks, who were chiefly ladies, and much
of honesty and independence among the working classes,
with very little poverty and distress, except what intem-
perance produced.
The winter of 1843-44 was the first we spent in Ease-
dale, and we found it by no means too sombre or solitary.
There was a frequent intercourse between our friends of the
Rydal valley, and Mrs. Davy and her children spent the
Christmas week with us. My grandson, Henry Fletcher,
too was with us, and left us on the 22d January 1844,
for his first term at Oxford.
We had the gratification in October 1844 of a visit from
Dr. and Mrs. Alison. Dr. Alison's is a character that
deserves to be loved and honoured. He has devoted his
life to the health and comfort of the poor, and his means
also, and the excellent pamphlet he published in 1840, on
the destitution of the poor in Scotland, awakened all classes
in that country to a sense of shame, and a desire to inquire
into and remedy the abuses he was the first to disclose and
make public. In consequence of his book, associations
were formed in Edinburgh, and in all the great towns in
Scotland, to inquire into the statements he had made, and
to apply to Parliament for a Poor Law for Scotland more
5 Rydal Mount.
CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES. 255
suited to the condition of the people, and to the increased
wealth and ability of the higher classes. Dr. Alison will
in after times be considered one of the greatest benefactors
of his country, as he is now looked up to as the man most
distinguished for personal and active exertions in the cause
of humanity. We considered it a great honour to have
such a man under our roof, and Mrs. Alison's talents, prin-
ciples, and most agreeable manners, make her worthy to
be his wife. It is one of the true pleasures of age to be
able to continue the early friendship I had for their accom-
plished father in the persons of two of his children, Dr.
Alison and dear Mrs. Burge.
After the Alisons left us, the days shortened, and winter
set in early, with more than usual severity. Henry Fletcher
came from Oxford to spend his Christmas, and his cheerful
temper cheered our winter fireside. My sailor grandson
Archibald, who had just been promoted to the rank of
lieutenant, joined his brother here on his way to Edin-
burgh. The brothers were delighted to meet again. Archi-
bald's promotion was a joyful event, and his coming a great
pleasure to us all.
We had some pleasant neighbourly gatherings at Christ-
mas, and to keep my birthday in January, when games and
charades were performed by young and old with great
effect. Our pleasant neighbours, Mrs. Cookson and her
daughters, assisted and enjoyed the fun, and I was glad to
feel a growing intimacy and regard between Mrs. Cookson
and myself. It is not often warm friendships are formed so
late in life ; but she commanded my respect and affection
from the first by her dignified submission to altered circum-
stances, her active benevolence, and her motherly heart.
The Rev. Eobert Graves, at that time and for several
years the curate at Bowness, was a favourite guest at the
family gatherings which took place on the 15th January to
256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
keep my birthday, and he was playfully designated my
"poet laureate." He is a man much beloved, of wide
sympathies and varied cultivation.
We never for a moment repented of our resolution " to
marry the Lakes after flirting " with them so long.
[To Mrs. Fletcher.
ON THE SEVENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF HER BIRTHDAY.
"Far to mine inward sense a solemn toll
That word, thy birthday, Friend revered, conveys ;
Yet when upon thy stately form I gaze,
And drink thy glance, bright efflux of a soul
Whose charity still flows from pole to pole,
Whose fire of youth still burns with kindling rays,
Scarce can my wondering rnind believe thy days
Five years have pass'd man's limitary goal.
Time's Favourite art thou ; to thee we turn
For memories of the great his depths conceal,
Thine honouring friends ; nor these alqne we learn,
But fresh enthusiasm quaff and holy zeal.
Then live, live on ; Heaven leave thee still below,
To warm our old hearts with thy vernal glow.
"R. P. G.
"January 15, 1845."]
In April 1845 we made a railway expedition to London.
At seventy-five I travelled from Lancaster to Euston station
without fatigue. We spent three agreeable weeks with
my dear old friend Mrs. Chapman at Blackheath Park. I
went purposely to visit her ; and it was delightful to see
how happily and tranquilly she passes the evening of her
days in the midst of her affectionate family, two sons and
three daughters. It is instructive to see that, with much
difference of opinion on religious points, they agree to differ
without any abatement of love or respect towards each other.
We spent a pleasant hour or two with the Jeffreys at
MAZZINI A T BLA CKHRA TH. 257
their hotel in Brook Street, and met there the good old
Whig Lord Lansdowne, who was very courteous and kind
to an old Edinburgh Whig lady who could go back as far
in her recollection of public events as he could himself.
We saw Mazzini frequently during this period, as my
eood friend was not afraid of him, and he was invited to
O '
join us more than once at Blackheath at luncheon, where
his eloquence and the power he then had of expressing
himself in good English was appreciated by all. He is a
noble-minded creature, a man of great ability and elevated
spirit, ready to undergo martyrdom for the deliverance of
his country from the different tyrannies which crush it
north and south, east and west. He is not loud, but deep
in the expression of patriotic feeling, and righteous in his
hatred of oppression and injustice.
There is still a deep melancholy about the habitual ex-
pression of his fine countenance, but it is very different
from what it was when I first saw him in 1837. He is
evidently working for his country with more of hope than
he then had. He gave us a little account of his Italian
school, which still goes on, and spoke with deep feeling of
the brothers Bandieri. When we told him how much we
had liked Thomas Carlyle's letter about him at the tune the
opening of his letters was brought before Parliament, his
face lighted up with pleasure, and he said, " Yes, and you
do not know why it was so good of Carlyle to write it, for
we had before that some differences of opinion which had
led to some coolness between us, but when he saw I needed
a friend he came to my support ; that I call noble." He
spoke of Sir James Graham's attack upon him in the House
of Commons with perfect composure, saying that he felt it
more for his friends than for himself.
We reached our dear home the end of May 1845, after
this little peep into the busy world, and enjoyed a pleasant
K
253 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
summer seeing several old friends, with the usual variety
that summer brings with it at the Lakes of agreeable
strangers from distant lands.
We accepted the pressing invitation of our kind friends,
the Miss Campbells, 35 Heriot Row, to go to Edinburgh in
the spring of 1846, taking my granddaughter Grace Davy
with us, that she might have the advantage of Edinburgh
masters for a time. We reached Edinburgh on the 28th of
February. We had no cause to complain of our wintry
journey, and were most lovingly received by our warm-
hearted friends.
On the morrow. Sunday, I was too tired to go to church,
but after morning service we had several visitors, Lord
Jeffrey, Mrs. Thomson, Dr. Allen Thomson, and others.
If I had ever doubted the warmth and kindness of the
Scottish character, this visit to Edinburgh would have
convinced me of it.
The hospitalities and cordial welcomes of a whole winter
were crowded into the two very agreeable months we spent
under the roof of our hospitable friends. We scarcely made
a single new acquaintance, nor did we wish it. We went to
no public places of any sort, or to any fashionable parties,
but our time was occupied from seven in the morning till
ten at night, when I was glad to retire to bed. From seven
till nine I wrote letters in bed by candle-light. We break-
fasted at ten ; after that till twelve I had a leve"e of humble
friends, old servants, and pensioners, those who wished to
tell me their family history and hear mine, without being
objects of charity. After luncheon, the world, as it may be
called, flocked in upon us, and none of those whom we had
known ever so slightly failed to pay us this mark of personal
regard on our return to Edinburgh. We dined out three or
four times a week, attending Lord Jeffrey's most pleasant
soirees to which he gave us the entire, and also Lady
DR. CHALMERS. 259
Murray's, at both of which we met many I had known in
the nursery, now eminent barristers.
One of our highest gratifications during this visit to
Edinburgh was to hear Dr. Chalmers address his humble
congregation in the Tanners' Warehouse in the "West Port,
where he has assembled a ragged school for week-day
teaching, and it is used as a place of worship on Sundays.
It is near the scene of the Burke murders. The persons,
old and young, who are gathered together there, never
probably before heard the word of God, or were taught to
feel their relation to Him as immortal beings.
We breakfasted with Dr. and Mrs. Chalmers at Morning-
side the day after he completed his sixty-sixth birthday.
His morning prayer was beautiful, one of its petitions I
remember, " Give us, Lord, such holy dispositions on
this side of death as may fit us for the blessedness Thou
hast prepared on the other side of death for those who love
and do Thy truth here, in lowliness of mind."
Dr. Chalmers spoke with great interest of the Lakes and
of Wordsworth, asking many questions about him, and
returning to it when other subjects were introduced. He
said he took a walk from Fife to Westmoreland in 1797,
and he afterwards visited Eydal Mount in 1817. He said,
" I always felt attracted to Wordsworth by his love for the
common people." In speaking of Grasmere he said, with
a sweet glow of countenance for a man of sixty-six, " There
is an intense loveliness about that place." He spoke very
warmly of Dr. Arnold's sermons, and said they contained
Evangelical doctrine without the phraseology which often
weakens the effect of the most important truths.
We saw for the last time our faithful friend of many, many
years, Dr. Thomson of Morland. His mind in his eightieth
year was in full vigour, and it was a mind of great strength
and energy, with much warmth and generosity of feeling.
260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
We spent a most agreeable day at Belmont. Lord
Mackenzie's conversation has increased in richness and
flow, and in a quiet humour peculiarly his own ; his wife
as charming as ever, and all the intercourse we had with
Lord Cuninghame and his wife, and many other dear
friends of " auld lang syne," made us rejoice we had under-
taken this journey once more to experience afresh the
feelings of gratitude towards those with whom we lived,
and all who received us so lovingly.
In the autumn of 1846 we had several agreeable visitors,
one American lady, Margaret Fuller, and two friends with
her, spent some hours here. She struck us as very original,
with great powers of expression and genuine enthusiasm for
what is good and beautiful, which always attracts me much.
She is neither English, Scotch, nor Irish, but it is pleasant to
be able to communicate in our own tongue so freely as one
can do with an agreeable American woman of genius.
In September, Sir John Richardson paid us a week's
visit on his way to see his venerable mother at Dumfries.
We had not met since the death of his excellent wife
a year and a half before this time. He spoke much
about the different characters of his children, and we felt
that besides his many fine qualities, he united in a
remarkable degree the tenderness of a mother's feelings
towards them, with a father's anxiety for their good
and happiness.
After passing a pleasant and peaceful winter at Lancrigg,
Mary and I joined Mrs. Davy and her daughters at Leam-
ington, in February 1847, almost a new scene to all of us;
but good masters for the girls were to be had there, the
object of our going.
After paying several short visits on the south coast, and
also in Yorkshire, Mary and I reached our beloved Lanc-
rigg on May 17th, 1847.
LETTER TO MRS. CHAPMAN. 261
Easedale was in the perfection of its early beauty, and
Ave never felt it so much as on this occasion, or enjoyed the
blessing of its repose more thankfully.
The preparations for Marj^'s marriage so occupied the
time that intervened before that event was to take place
the 4th of August that we saw less company than usual,
and I have little to relate except the calm anticipation of
a marriage, that was for a time to separate me from my
affectionate and constant companion ; but I felt we should
be little apart in the body, and not at all in spirit, and
that in her union with so amiable a companion as Sir John
Richardson I confided her to one who would greatly add to
her happiness as well as to my own.
[To Mrs. Cliapman, from Mrs. Fletcher.
"June 26th, 1847.
" I ought to have thanked you before this for the affectionate
congratulations I received from you on the happy prospects that
are opening for my dear Mary. Hers, as Joanna Baillie writes
in her congratulatory letter, is ' both a reasonable and romantic
marriage ;' and this description of it accords with Mary's
character, which is at once reasonable and romantic reasonable
in her estimate of the value of things, and romantic in her
standard of what is requisite in character to interest her affec-
tions ; hence she has always been a fastidious person, and,
fortunately, Sir J. Richardson happens to possess the qualities
to which she has always attached most importance. You, my
dear friend, who know what we are to each other, will feel for
me, as many do ; but I am more delivered from self on this
occasion than I ever expected to be, and I can assure your
motherly heart that Sir John does not wish us to be separated
at all, but that in winter at least I should make my home at
Haslar for the future. Mrs. Davy claims me for the alternate
winters, and the summer months I shall spend at Lancrigg as
usual, if God so wills it ; but it is presumptuous to look for-
ward at seventy-seven.
" I ought to tell you, my dear old friend, that Sir John
262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Richardson frankly told us that in case no intelligence con-
cerning the fate of the Franklin Expedition reached England
by the return of the whale-ships this autumn, or by their own
return, which he fully expects, he had promised to conduct a
searching boat expedition to set forth in the spring of 1848.
This is the only cloud in the distance ; but if Mary is willing
to undertake the charge that would then devolve upon her, it
is not for me to gainsay so generous a resolution."
Letter from Lord Jeffrey.
" E. I. COLLEGE, Tuesday, llth May 1847.
" MY EVER DEAR MRS. FLETCHER, It always makes me
happier and better to get a letter from you, for it makes me think
more favourably of our common nature, and of myself also, both
as belonging to it and as capable of being gratified by finding it
BO loveable. Generally, too, it lets me see that the most truly
loveable are the most surely happy, and this, I need scarcely
say, is peculiarly the case with your last most kind, most pleas-
ing, and most amiable communication. You have told me
everything go frankly, so reasonably, so gently, and so naturally,
that I enter at once into all your feelings, and rejoice in your
joy, as cordially as if I had always had the same interests and
anxieties as to the objects to which they relate.
" Do assure my dear Mary of the entire sympathy I have
in her prospects of happiness, and of my confidence in their
being realized. I always thought her rather too difficult and
disdainful of our poor rough sex, and am very glad that she
has at last found one to reconcile her to it, and much obliged
to Sir John Richardson for having procured us that indulgence.
" I hope to see both her and you once more before I die ;
but it cannot, unfortunately, be now. . . . With all love,
and respect, and good wishes, and blessings, believe me always,
my dear Mrs. Fletcher, very affectionately yours,
" F. JEFFREY."]
After the marriage took place (on the 4th of August),
and the wedding guests had dispersed, I courted repose, and
Margaret, with her usual attention to my wishes and com-
fort, invited the whole party to spend the evening at
LETTER TO LADY RICHARDSOX. 263
Lesketh How, leaving dear Mrs. Taylor to stay quietly
with me at Lancrigg. Days and weeks passed on, en-
livened by letters from the married pair on their tour
through Holland and on the Rhine, where they paid an
interesting visit at Pastor Fliedner's Institution at Kaisers-
werth, Sir John having a hope of getting some change
made in the nursing arrangements at Haslar Hospital.
Mrs. Taylor, her daughter, and Angus, formed my home
circle. Some very agreeable neighbours, of the name of
Broadley, took lodgings at Thorney How that autumn.
We found them a great acquisition, and met frequently in
a pleasant way. Our autumn passed pleasantly, and every
exertion was made by those with me to lessen my feelings
of regret, or rather of want, in the loss of her who, as Words-
worth used to observe, was my " inseparable companion."
[From Mrs. Fletcher, to her daughter Mary.
"September 1847.
" I have been reading with great interest Mr. Brooks'
successful action against a fleet of pirates off Borneo. I see
that great and good man is coming home to have his Governor-
ship of Labuan ratified. If he is at Portsmouth I hope Sir
John and he may meet ; he is a noble specimen of what dis-
interested courage and humanity can achieve. I think your
husband and he are kindred spirits.
" I took a turn before breakfast this morning, and stood at
your favourite point at the gate looking into Easedale. I also
took leave of poor Wifie, 1 but hope to see her again at Haslar
and you on her back. I gave Joseph strict charges to see her
safe in her box at Oxenholme. Mrs. Arnold came with the
Lesketh How party yesterday to dinner. I see how much she
misses you when she comes here, dear Mary. To me you are
so constantly present that I think I miss you less when i ain
in company than when I am alone, and could have a quiet chat
with you ; but in or out of company I bless God for having
1 A favourite grey pony.
264 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
provided you with objects of affection and opportunities of use-
fulness which will be of such value to you after my death.
This hope and belief cheers and supports me continually, and
prevents my complaining of our temporary separation."]
At the end of October, when my other children left me,
I went to Lesketh How. It was a cheerful, pleasant winter.
Mrs. Davy and her dear girls did all that affection and
sympathy can do to cheer the occasional languor of age,
and I bless God for having given me such a child as
Margaret, fulfilling as she does the duties of a Christian
daughter, wife, and mother.
[From letter to her daughter Mary.
" November 24th, 1S47.
" We went this evening to drink tea at Rydal Mount, and
found the dear old couple tete-ct-tete. Mrs. Arnold went with
us. Mr. Wordsworth was more like his former self than I
have seen him since Dora's death. He showed us two letters
he had had this week from ladies he had never seen or heard
of, one in prose, the other in verse. The former said she was
the wife of a hard-worked London solicitor with five children.
She found her greatest solace for all her cares and troubles in
his ' Excursion.' She compared herself to a wearied traveller
seated by a dusty roadside, tired and thirsty, when lo ! a
fountain of fresh water sprang up by her side ; she drank of it
freely, was refreshed and strengthened to pursue her journey.
This was the effect ' The Excursion ' produced on her mind
and feelings. The other letter was from a solitary single woman,
who describes herself as one who has survived all her kindred
and the friends of her youth, and, seated on the sandy beach
at Southport, she can forget all her sorrows when she has a
volume of Wordsworth in her hand. Some of the lines are
very good, and reminded us of Crabbe. Mrs. Arnold told him
a gentleman at Oxford had made Susy read to him Words-
worth's Poem of ' Lycoris,' and we begged him to read it to
us. He said it was suggested to him one day at Ullswater,
in the year 1817, by seeing two white sunny clouds reflected
VISIT TO LIVERPOOL. 265
in the lake. ' They looked (he said) like two swans.' He
read the poem twice over, in his most beautiful and impressive
manner. It describes a feeling quite familiar to me, the pre-
ference the young have for autumn and the old for spring."]
Lesketli How, 15th January 1848. I bless God for
having permitted me to see this seventy-eighth birthday in
the possession of all my mental faculties, and in bodily
health less infirm than is common to persons of my age.
I have through this long life experienced so many mercies,
that my heart is full, but not full enough, of thankfulness
and love towards that Being who created and redeemed
me. Blessed be His name. From infancy I have been an
object of tender love to all my family and relations that
watched over me. I had the kindest and tenderest of
husbands, and now r , in my seventy-ninth year, I am blessed
with most dutiful and affectionate children and grand-
children, and many most attached friends. This day I
received testimonies of this love and respect from dear
Margaret and her three children, from Mrs. Taylor and her
Mary, from my own Mary and her excellent husband Sir
John Richardson (whose letter I shall keep while I live), and
from my son Angus, who never forgets his mother's birthday.
On the 19th of February 1848, Mrs. Davy and I and
her two daughters set off in the train from Birthwaite to
Liverpool, "VVe were most kindly welcomed by Mrs.
Rathbone and her excellent husband at Green Bank, and
spent three days most agreeably with them. They are
people whose whole lives have left a track-life to those who
follow them, both of them being constantly occupied in
seeking and finding opportunities of doing good. They
unite with all the most active principles of the Christian
character, the most liberal opinions, and a spirit of charity
and good-will to those who differ from, them in religious
opinions.
266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Mrs. Rathbone introduced me to a most remarkable
character, " Catherine of Liverpool," the well-known washer-
woman, Avho, after helping all her poor neighbours to keep
themselves clean, while she herself was toiling for her
daily bread and supporting her aged mother, and making
her house a refuge for many an orphan child, is now,
through the influence of Mrs. Rathbone, placed at the
head of a great washing establishment for the poor.
Catherine is an Irishwoman, and a Methodist, and has all
the fluency and cheerfulness of her countrywomen, with all
the Christian love of God and her neighbour which John
Wesley taught his followers as the main evidence and test
of their religion. It did one's heart good to hear Catherine
pour out her gratitude to Mrs. Rathbone when that lady
was not within hearing.
From Green Bank we went the first day to Rugby to
see Archy Davy, and the following day (the 23d) reached
the Euston Square station, where Angus met us; and we
found waiting for us, in the lodgings taken in Weymouth
Street, dear Mrs. Taylor and her daughter, Sir John
Richardson, and my own Mary, who were on a visit to
Lady Franklin. A gladder heart than mine was not that
day in London, to have my four surviving children and my
excellent son-in-law, Sir John Richardson, and three dear
great-grandchildren all about me, in health and comfort,
and all making merry at my expense when I insisted, after
my journey, on setting forth before dinner to make my-
self " braw " by buying a cap and bonnet in Regent
Street.
I had not seen my dear Mary since I had parted with
her on her marriage-day, the 4th of August. We were so
glad to meet again, that the traces of anxiety on the near
prospect of parting with her husband were that day not
predominant in her speaking countenance.
LETTER TO MRS. STARK. 267
[Part of letter to Jfrs. Stark, from Mrs. Fletcher.
"HASLAB, March 26t!t, 1848.
" The public and private events that have filled the last five
weeks since we left Lesketh How and reached this place leave
me at a loss how to write to you at this the first leisure hour
I have been able to command. ... I remained with our
assembled family party a week in London, dining out nowhere
but at Lady Franklin's, where the Richardsons were on a visit.
On the evening of the 24th, at Lady Franklin's soire'e, Dr.
Boott came in and gave us the first news of the French revolu-
tion that is, the news of the tocsin sounding in the streets
of Paris, the tricolor waving as of old, the fraternization of the
people, and the military helmets (not heads) carried on poles
through the streets, and the people rushing into the Chamber
of Deputies, crying ' Vive la Jtepublique.' We were struck
dumb with this astounding intelligence. Mr. Carlyle was sit-
ting by me at the time. I looked at him, hoping he would
speak. He said not a word, but broke out into a loud laugh,
and rose and left the house, to devour the journals, which that
night were filled with news from Paris.
" I had engaged Mazzini to breakfast with us the following
morning, and he came ; by that time the flight of the King
and of Guizot was known, and the excitement had become
excessive. It was beautiful to hear Mazzini's eloquent and
simple lamentation over the moral degradation of Guizat. ' It
was from his lectures,' he said, ' I first learned to love civil
and religious liberty ; and that such a man should truckle to
the base measures of Louis Philippe is deplorable.' I asked
Mazzini what effect this would produce in Italy. ' The most
glorious effect,' he answered ; ' the fall of the French monarchy
is the restoration and union of Italy.
"We heard a few days after this Mazziui had left London
for Paris ; and he is one of those master spirits destined, I
trust, not only to serve but to save his country. He is a
determined aud uncompromising republican, but so true a lover
of justice and humanity that he will take no part with those
who do not make these their principles of action. . . .
" As to French affairs, I cannot pretend to see or understand
268 A U TO BIO GRAPH 'Y.
how the financial difficulties are to be got over. Lamartine
immortalized himself at first by abolishing the punishment of
death for all political offences ; but my great hope is in the
ascendency of Odillon Barrot over the National Guard and the
middle classes. His extraordinary freedom from selfishness and
party spirit in yielding to and even supporting the Provisional
Government till the elections are over, when they resign their
power to the will of the National Assembly, is above all praise.
If all this can be accomplished without anarchy and bloodshed,
it will be owing to the moderation of Odillon Barrot and his
friends, who stand in the position the Gironde held in 1792.
"What a beautiful manifestation does this contrast of 1848
to 1792 make as to the improvement and progress of Europe
in the last sixty years ! Tell Mrs. Bannatyne, with my kind
love, that I rejoice she has lived to make this glorious com-
parison. It is a comfort to us both to know that the smallest
services those we loved best rendered to the good cause in those
days of cowardly oppression, when they, and honest men like
them, never shrank from the maintenance of high principles,
that such service then, tells now in the different reception that
England and Scotland gave to this over that state of things in
France in 1792. But I must quit this most engrossing subject,
and come down from my hobby to private matters.
" Sir John Richardson left us last Monday, and was to sail
yesterday from Liverpool to New York. He gave me a short
sketch of his route, which I sent to my granddaughter, desir-
ing her to make a copy to send to you.
" As Sir Edward Parry told me yesterday, ' I think no man
ever set out in a truer missionary spirit, or made a more gener-
ous sacrifice of private happiness than he has done,' and I am
thankful to say his wife fully participates in the unselfish-
ness of his conduct. The separation has been and is a very
great trial to her. I thought her looking very ill and anxious
when I came, but she is cairn, subdued, and not uncheerful.
She is devoted to the children, and they cling round her with
confiding affection. She and I have the heart-intercourse we
always had, and I am thankful. I think I told you Sir John
had kindly proposed to take Thorney How for the governess
and children during the time of his absence, so that we might
SE VENTY-NINTH BIR THDA Y. 239
be as little separated as possible. Lancrigg would not hold us
all with niy other summer guests.
" I return with Margaret in April, and Mary joins me in May
with her little flock. The Admiralty allow Sir John the use
of the house here should Westmoreland not agree with the
children. I have not written so long a letter for many months,
so, dear friend, you must take the quantity instead of the
quality. God bless you all. E. F."]
Lancrigg, 14th January 1849. To-morrow, if it please
God to spare me till then, I shall have completed my seventy-
ninth birthday, and entered upon the eightieth year of my
life. This is a solemn thought, and ought to excite in me
the deepest thankfulness to God for having been permitted
to enjoy so much health of body and mind at so advanced
a period. I have not been without my share of trials and
disappointments, or deep sorrows, but they have been ac-
companied with many alleviations. I have loved much,
and have had the happiness to be much beloved, as a
daughter, wife, and mother. These are the crowning
mercies of God in my pilgrimage hitherto, but my soul
longs for a more intimate communion with. God. I delight
to do His will, and rejoice in the spirit of thankfulness
for " the goodness and mercy " which " have followed me
all the days of my life," but I deplore the sinfulness of my
nature : I am too apt to be disturbed by trifles, am too
impatient, and not sufficiently attentive to the feelings of
others. I have too much self-love, and am not so humble-
minded as I would desire to be. Oh my God, Thou who
knowest my infirmities, have mercy upon me ; pardon my
transgressions in thought, word, and deed ; make me to
feel habitually that " I am poor and needy, but that Thou
carest for me ; " and in the trial that awaits me, the parting
with my dear and dutiful child Mary, who has been my
affectionate companion from her childhood, grant that I
270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
may submit without repining to a separation that she feels
not less than I do, but which it is plainly her duty to do,
and mine to suffer. It is a more grievous separation than
that occasioned by her marriage, because she then had a
cheerful and happy home to go to, and the companionship
of her husband to cheer and support her. Now her anxie-
ties about his safety are aggravated by her sorrow for poor
Josephine Richardson's illness and her concern for me ;
but God, who knows the singleness of her heart and the
integrity of her purpose to do her duty, will support and
bless her.
Lancrigg, April 21, 1849. Towards the end of Decem-
ber 1848 a joyful event occurred : Dr. Davy returned
safely and in good health from Barbadoes, and the thank-
fulness and gladness of heart thus afforded to my dear
Margaret was visible in her countenance and the improve-
ment of her health and spirits.
Another event conducive to my tranquillity of mind
and domestic happiness occurred. Angus had been invited
by the Colonization Society in London to accompany some
deputies from their committee to visit the large manufactur-
ing towns of Yorkshire for the purpose of promoting emi-
gration to Australia for the unemployed operatives. The
Chartists opposed the meetings held at Leeds for this pur-
pose; at Huddersfield, however, the deputies secured a
patient hearing, which was much owing to the personal
influence of Mr. W. E. Forster, of Bradford, who is con-
sidered by all parties as the poor man's friend, so that his
approbation of the views of the Colonization Society induced
about ninety hand-loom combers to volunteer to emigrate
under the auspices of the Society. Angus offered me a visit,
and brought with him at my request his kind friend Mr.
Forster, to spend a week at Lancrigg. Mr. Forster had
been first made known to us by Mrs. Charles Fox, of Fal-
J//W. GASKELL. 271
mouth. On this occasion he brought with him a novel
then just published, " Mary Barton." Mr. Forster did not
know by whom it was written, nor did we know for some
months after this, but we were at once struck with its power
and pathos, and it was with infinite pleasure I heard that
it was written by the daughter of one whom I both loved
and reverenced in my early married life in Edinburgh, so
that I had a twofold pleasure in making Mrs. Gaskell's
acquaintance through Miss M. Beever, who knew her at
Manchester, and who told me she always asked about me
with interest. Thus by these seeming chances are people
brought into contact with those who are associated with
much that is of interest in their past lives.
My dear Mary set off for her Haslar home with the
three younger children, as their sister was unable to leave
the good medical care she had at home. This separation
was a great trial to us both, but we submitted to it without
complaining, and Miss Craik, who had joined me at Lanc-
rigg, kindly agreed to remain with me till the end of March,
and Angus agreed to remain with me for the winter. Miss
Craik, the daughter of one of my oldest friends, proved a
most pleasant companion to both of us. She has a most
intelligent mind, always in pursuit of knowledge; great
sweetness of temper, and quick sympathies. We had a quiet
but by no means an uncheerful winter.
Towards the end of March I was conscious of an ex-
cessive activity of mind, even amounting to a painful
degree of restlessness, like a person who, on the eve of a
long journey, remembers to have left many needful things
undone, and feeling the shortness of time to do them in,
is in a continual hurry and state of unrest. About the
end of March I used to awake every night with a distract-
ing pain in my head. I certainly thought (notwithstanding
Dr. Davy's opinion that the symptoms were not alarming)
272 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
that I had not long to live ; and I bless God, humbly and
fervently, that in the moments of extremest pain, when
death would have been most welcome, I had a strong
persuasion that the severe suffering He permitted me to
experience was but a new proof of His Fatherly love and
mercy. I had, through faith in the blessed promises of
His Son, made my peace with Him, so that I had no fear
of death ; but my heart had fainted under the terror of
the bodily agony that commonly precedes the separation of
soul and body, and the thought of parting with my dear
children was often overwhelming. Now I perceived the
goodness of God in sending me this sharp pain to wean me
from life and disarm death of all its bodily terrors. The
only desire of my heart was to assemble all my children
about me, that I might see them once more before my
mind was utterly gone. They came most affectionately at
my call, and before long the pains gradually subsided. I
got more sleep, and by this 23d of April 1849, I record
with thankfulness my comparative restoration to health.
On the 1st of May 1849, after this illness, I rose much
refreshed. It was a glorious morning, the first day of sum-
mer according to my calendar. When I looked out of the
window, at six in the morning, a crowd of poetical images
and recollections filled my mind ; and though I could not
express them poetically, I set down my thoughts in mea-
sured lines as follows :
COMPOSED IN THE EARLY MORNING OF MAY 1ST, 1849, BY K. F.
HAIL ! glorious day, in Spring's fresh verdure clad,
Queen of the year, all Nature worships thee.
Last eve, at twilight's close, I marked the swift
And winged harbingers of summer days
Flock to their clay-built homes beneath the eaves,
Wearied with flight ; and at the morning's dawn
They give thee welcome, while the " wandering voice"
LETTER TO SIR J. RICHARDSON. 273
Had travelled long, and far, to join his notes
To the glad gush of song that hails thy coming.
The little lambs skip with fantastic glee,
And the green carpet with which earth is clothed
Is spangled o'er with flowers of brilliant hue.
Time was when I, a happy village child,
With sportive gladness ranged the flowery fields
To gather garlands for this festive day ;
The scented cowslip, purple orchis joined,
And wild blue hyacinth, with primrose tufts,
For votive offerings at each cottage door.
That eighty summers have not dimmed the sense
Of these pure pleasures God, be thine the praise !
\Pari of letter from Mrs. Fletcher to Sir J. Richardson.
" 1849.
" I little expected once more to feel the same deep interest
in any event which my dear husband and I did feel in the
French revolution of 1789, before France had committed
savage cruelty, and when all good men rejoiced in the destruc-
tion of a grinding despotism, the fruits of which were bitterness
and ashes ; but the Roman Republic has roused the same
high hopes and the same deep interests for the restoration of
that noble people. "We hear that Mazzini is actively employed
in exhorting the people and restraining them from acts of
violence."
To her daughter Mary.
" LESKETH How, 8th July 1849.
" I have to thank you for two most welcome letters. Alas
for Rome ! I knew how you would feel when you read
' The French in Rome ; ' but Mr. Price gave me some comfort ;
he said, ' You may be sure the noble defence of the Roman
people will have an imperishable influence on the future state
of Italy. Formerly the Italians could not depend on each
other ; now that distrust is vanished. All true friends^ of
freedom will understand each other, and it will be in vain for
Austria or the united despots to crush the spirit that defence
has manifested.' There is still great comfort in this hope,
S
274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
and it is nobler in the Assembly and the Triumvirate to spare
a massacre than to immolate thousands of innocent victims
on the shrine of national independence. Those who have
fallen will not have fallen in vain if their fate shall rivet the
love of 'liberty and hatred of oppression on their surviving
countrymen."
To the Same.
" Yesterday, about two o'clock, we drove off to call on Mrs.
Gaskell at Millbrow, and found her, with her two friendly
inmates and fine children, looking bright and happy. She
has a noble countenance, intelligent and modest. She received
us, as she always does, with that expression of heartfelt
cordiality the Richardsons did at Chatham. She came back
with us to dinner. The Palmses came to tea, and were
delighted to meet the writer of 'Mary Barton.'"
To the Same.
11 Thou art thy father's own daughter. The lines are
beautiful, full of high and noble feeling. ... I will not be-
lieve that Mazzini has fled, but if he has fled from so base, so
perfidious an enemy, it is not that he fears death, but that he
has still faith in the good cause, and he may yet serve it and
fulfil his high mission, for if there ever was a soldier that took
righteousness for his breastplate, that soldier is Mazzini.
" I expect eveiy moment the car to be announced that is to
take the children and me to Lancrigg to meet Mrs. Gaskell and
her party to take luncheon there. They are to go to Easedale
Tarn after it, while I take repose. Dear Lancrigg ! you are, if
possible, more present to me there than anywhere else, and I
cling to it."]
Soon after her return to Fox How in September 1849,
Mrs. Arnold asked me to meet her distinguished guest,
the Chevalier Bun sen, who, with his wife and daughters
and one son, was staying with her for a few days. The
very high estimation Dr. Arnold formed of the Chevalier's
talents and goodness made us very anxious to see him.
THE CHEVALIER BUNS EN. 275
His countenance beams with benevolence, and his conversa-
tion is full of good feeling, intelligence, and liberality. I
was glad to hear him reprobate the interference of France
in the affairs of Italy, and speaking of Mazzini he said,
" He is a man of very great ability, perfectly honest, and
purely disinterested, but I do consider him a fanatic in
politics." He thinks highly of the national character of
the Italians, and very lowly of the French. " The French
have no faith in anything ; they change their political
principles as easily as the colour of their cockade ; to-day
it is blue, to-morrow red, and the next day tricolor." He
seemed to think free institutions quite incompatible with
Papal domination, and did not risk an opinion as to what
might be the final result of the liberal movement in Italy.
For Kossuth and his brave Hungarian compatriots he ex-
pressed great admiration and sympathy. All he said was
expressive of candour, liberality, and good faith, and I felt
it a new obligation to Mrs. Arnold that she had allowed us
to meet this excellent man.
About three weeks later we set off for Mr. Williamson's
parsonage, near Leeds. It was here I had the very great
satisfaction of learning accidentally from the schoolmaster
that Sir John Richardson had reached Lake Superior on
his homeward route. This cheering intelligence had ap-
peared in the Times of that morning. He had not been
heard of for more than twelve months, and I well knew
the happiness this intelligence would convey to all at Haslar.
We spent two days most agreeably with our kind friends
at Headingley, and on Thursday evening reached Rugby,
where I found a letter from Mary, who had received a tele-
graphic despatch from the Admiralty with the joyful news.
Next day she met me with a light heart in London, and
we remained with our good friend Dr. Boott till we left
town on Tuesday the 30th of October for Haslar. On the
276 A U TO BIO GRAPHY.
Sunday I went to hear Mr. Gurney preach in Marylebone,
called for Madame Mohl at Mrs. Reid's, and drove to see
our excellent old friends, the Miss Baillies, at Hampstead.
Miss Joanna told us her sister was ninety, herself, I believe
being eighty-six, and both still enjoying life with thankful-
ness. We dined that day with dear Mrs. Taylor, and on
the next I went with Dr. Boott to see the Nineveh marbles
at the British Museum, and the model lodging-houses for
the poor near St. Giles. That district looked more dirty
and unwholesome than any of the wynds in Edinburgh,
and the cholera had prevailed there to a frightful degree,
while out of fourteen hundred inhabitants of the model
lodgings in its neighbourhood there had not been one
case.
On our reaching Haslar the little boys clung round
their mamma's neck with such eagerness that they fairly
brought her to the ground on the threshold of her own
door.
On Monday, the 5th of November, Mary had a telegraphic
despatch that the Hibernia had reached Liverpool. It
was Sir John's birthday, and we had hoped he might have
spent it with us, but he did not reach London till Tuesday
night. Next day he had to report himself at the Admir-
alty, where he was detained some hours, and where he met
with Sir James Eoss, who had appeared there that day on
his return from the Arctic Expedition. Of course we were
all on the qui vive as the hour of the arrival of the train
approached, and at eight o'clock on the 8th of November
Sir John was joyfully received at his happy home. We
all thought him looking better and younger than when
he went away. There never were more heartfelt prayers
of thankfulness than those he read to his family that
night.
LETTER TO MRS. BOOTT. 277
[Part of letter to Mrs. Arnold, Fox How, from
Mrs. FletcJier.
"HASLAR, Nov. 8, 1849.
" Some hours' detention at the Admiralty makes us doubtful
whether our dear traveller may reach his happy home till to-
morrow. In the meantime I begin a letter to you, which I
shall leave open till I can tell you he is actually under his own
roof. The lively sympathy Mary meets with from all her
neighbours and friends here is really most delightful Sir
John Richardson has been prayed for by name in the parish
church at Alverstoke during the whole of his perilous travel
by land and water ; and the warm-heartedness expressed on
all occasions by his sailor shipmates and brother officers here
makes one really think there is a freshness of feeling in the
sailor's heart that is not to be found in the same degree
among landsmen.
" How glad we are, dear friend, to hear of your delightful
letters from all your absent sons ; but your dear William is
my hero now, and you know I am much addicted to hero-wor-
ship. There is not any one to whom I have mentioned the
voluntary labour of the young soldier in the work of educa-
tion that has not been struck with this energetic trait of his
father's son.
" A telegram has just come from the Admiralty to say that
Sir John may be here to-night.
"I write with many joyful interruptions from friends coming
in with hearty congratulations. Good news circulates through
Haslar with telegraphic speed."
To Mrs. Boott, from Mrs. Fldclier.
"HASLAR, November Wth, 1849.
" Before I rise I must indulge myself in thanking you for
the sweet note I received from you yesterday. I do not know
a holier or happier feeling than that of gratitude towards those
we love and honour. Both Mary and I left your house with
that delightful feeling. Our traveller arrived by the late train
on Wednesday night. I had my pen in hand to tell you the
273 A UTOBIO GRA PHY.
good news yesterday, but was interrupted before the post-horn
sounded. He came in while his children were dancing to the
tune of
' There's nae luck about the house,'
and you may believe his entrance did not spoil our mirth, though
it gave it a more subdued and quiet character. He is, thank
God, in perfect health ; nor could we extort from him a single
complaint of the hardships and privations he has suffered."
" HASLAR, January 30th, 1850.
" MY DEAR MRS. BURGE, I have wished to write to you,
but had not courage to enter on the subject uppermost in my
mind the dreadful loss your dear brother and all of you have
met with in the death of dear Mrs. Alison. She was a rare
creature, a very gifted woman. I always admired but never
knew her well till after Dr. Alison's publication of his pamphlet
about the poor, in the year 1840. I saw how very deeply her
heart was in that work, and how she was affected by the moral
effect it produced ; for it was truly a revelation of the condi-
tion of humanity which no one had previously believed in or
suspected; it led to great results, and she lived in the deep
interests her husband -had roused in the thinking part of the
community. She said she ' was a proud woman in seeing his
labours so appreciated.' Then came his illness; and the fine
spirit that had been so elated was severely stricken, but not
crushed ; her sensibilities were so acute that she suffered more
from anxiety than most others equally attached would have
done. I cannot regret she took that last journey to England,
because she did it for his sake, and the pulmonary complaint
was too deeply fixed to be curable. We were much comforted
to hear how calmly and how like a Christian your brother
bears his great affliction. Pray offer him our kindest and most
respectful sympathy. Within the last few days I have lost
another friend whom I most sincerely lament Lord Jeffrey.
I cannot now think of Edinburgh without Mrs. Alison and
Lord Jeffrey without a depression of spirit which I thought
nothing less than a family bereavement would have occasioned.
" My old age is cheered by the great happiness I see in this
household. Since the return of my excellent son in-law, Mary
LORD JEFFREY'S DEATH. 279
is one of the happiest of women. I never saw a mind more
finely balanced than Sir John's ; with all the enthusiasm that
led him, on a principle of duty and affection, to undertake his
arduous expedition, he has the kindest, gentlest heart, and the
most sweet and cheerful temper, with a fund of information.
I hope to remain here till the first week in March, after which
I intend, please God, to join the Davys for six weeks in Lon-
don."
From Mrs. Fletcher to Mrs. Davy.
" HASLAB, 1st February 1850.
" The death of Lord Jeffrey is indeed a mournful event to
me. Though so little in advance of him in years, I had always
considered him a young man, young in the vigorous powers of
his mind, and young in the gentleness and kindness of his heart
this last quality had been gaining strength by the exercise
of home affections ; and it is impossible to have seen him with
his grandchildren climbing on his knee without loving the
affectionateness of his disposition as much as one always admired
the brilliancy of his talents. If I, who have for many years
seen so little of him, feel the sadness of this stroke, what must
it be to his home and ' inner circle,' as he used to call that
of his familiar friends. It is about fifty years since I first met
him at James Grahame's ; brilliancy in conversation was then
his great attraction, and flippancy his great defect. It was
probably the secret ambition of those who conversed with him
that made them afraid of him ; I know this from experience.
He delighted in checking aspiring or ambitious women, as he
used to call Mrs. Millar and me ' women that would plague
him with rational conversation ' and for many years of our
early acquaintance I feared more than I liked him. Just in
proportion as I aspired less, I gained more of his esteem and
respect ; and latterly there was, as you know, a perfectly
friendly feeling tacitly established between us. The country
owes him and his coadjutors a vast debt of gratitude for their
fearless and noble advocacy of civil and political freedom in
the great questions of liberty of conscience, freedom of the press,
general education, abolition of exclusive privileges, abolition of
the slave-trade, and a hundred other subjects, where the eman-
280 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
cipation of the public mind from the trammels of slavish pre-
judice may be traced to the influence of the Edinburgh Review.
" I believe Jeffrey was a happier man in his age than in his
youth, though I could not help thinking, at the time I saw him
borne on the shoulders of the people when he was chosen mem-
ber for Edinburgh in the winter of 1832, that that was the
most splendid conjuncture of his fate. Many were the glad
tears that were shed on that occasion, when the triumph of the
good cause he had so bravely advocated was attested by the
people's choice. He took it all so calmly ; and he became a
humbler and therefore a greater man the more he was dis-
tinguished. I shall never forget the last earnest conversation
I had with him, after having heard on all sides on our return
to Edinburgh of his unequalled reputation as a Judge. I said,
' I rejoice, Lord Jeffrey, to have lived to know that the Court
of Session possesses the confidence of the country.' He
answered with great animation, ' Yes, Mrs. Fletcher, but if it
had not been for the indomitable courage of your husband, in
the worst of times, when he and one or two more maintained
the independence of the Bar, we younger men would have been
trampled on and the Court of Session would never have
enjoyed the confidence of the country.' I have registered
this saying of Lord Jeffrey in my heart of hearts, and I would
have you engraft it on that of your children."]
March 1850. "We spent a very agreeable evening at
Mr. Wedgwood's, where we met Sir Robert Inglis, who
recognised me as an old Edinburgh acquaintance, and
Madame Pulzky, the charming wife of a Hungarian patriot,
who had been the secretary of the distinguished Kossuth.
He had sacrificed immense possessions in this noble cause,
and this heroic woman had followed him into exile. Her
father, a rich banker at Vienna, furnished them with the
means of living in very humble lodgings, and yet not a
regret or complaint escaped her. She had with difficulty
avoided the horrors of captivity in an Austrian prison with
her three little boys. Their flight was arranged and
'vea.- &%
f /'
0^ -~tiii^ut*.?za />/ ~L^e<^ttf.
S
- ^>
_^Z< '
MEETING WITH MR. ROGERS. 281
accomplished by the courage of a gentleman who acted as
her husband's principal steward, and who attended them
in the assumed character of a common servant. Madame
Pulzky is a very attractive person, very pretty, and com-
bining much intelligence and energy of character with the
most engaging gentleness of manners. We became well
acquainted, and saw her often.
At dear Mary's earnest desire I sat for my picture to
Mr. Eichmond, a most agreeable man and very distin-
guished artist. We met him at Mr. Gurney's, at whose
house we spent a delightful evening at dinner.
We dined also one day at Lady Davy's. She called one
morning and politely asked me whom I should like best to
meet. I said, " Rogers the poet," whom I had never seen.
" Certainly," she said, " you shall meet him on Wednesday,
if you will all come and dine with me." She kindly
brought him, however, next day to call upon me, and I
found Mr. Rogers most courteous, lively, and conversable.
But a day or two after he was seized with a fit of the gout ;
so Lady Davy said, to console me for the disappointment,
she had asked Lord Lansdowne to meet us. I sat next
the Lord President of the Council, whom I remembered
in Edinburgh above fifty years before, when he was Lord
Henry Petty, and lived with Dugald Stewart. He had the
greatest reverence for that excellent man, and spoke of his
Edinburgh life and of his friends Horner, Jeffrey, and
Playfair, with much interest and kind-heartedness.
I had the honour of a call from Mr. Cobden and his
agreeable wife, brought by a very pleasing friend of Mrs.
Gaskell, Mrs. Schwabe, who had eagerly sought Mrs. Gas-
kell's acquaintance after reading " Mary Barton."
The last day we spent in London was one of the busiest.
I went to take my last sitting at Mr. Richmond's, from
thence to call on the Dowager Lady Grey ; found her mind
282 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
as active in benevolent pursuits and as acute as ever, and
was much interested in the wide circle of her philanthropic
interests. She is a wonderful person of eighty-five. From
her house we drove to Lambeth Palace, a striking old
building.
April 1850. We reached Lesketh How on the 8th, and
heard distressing accounts of Mr. Wordsworth's dangerous
state. He continued to sink daily, and died on the 23d
of April 1850, about three weeks after he completed his
eightieth year. Although no one had expected his recovery
for several weeks, it is not easy to describe the mournful
feeling his death occasioned. It was a personal loss ; every
one who had enjoyed his society and friendship felt there
was much taken out of life that was most worth living
for. To himself it was a blessed change, for his grief for
the loss of Dora, his only daughter, was incurable ; and
though his devoted wife had lost everything that made life
precious when she lost him, yet such was the unselfishness of
her love towards him that I verily believe she was thankful
he had not been left to be the survivor. She watched by
him day and night, and saw him laid in his grave on
Saturday, the 27th of April, in Grasmere churchyard.
[From Mrs. Fletcher to her daughter Mary.
"April 26, 1850.
" Mrs. Davy had a message by James Dixon to say if she
and Dr. Davy wished to see the remains they might go to
Kydal Mount. They went accordingly. Dr. D. advised
me not to go, he thought I might be too much excited. They
were both much struck by the likeness of the countenance, in
the deep repose of death, to that of Dante. The expression
was much more feminine than it had been in life very like his
sister. She bears this sad loss with unexpected calmness. She
is drawn about as usual in her chair. She was heard to say,
as she passed the door where the body lay, ' death, where
FUNERAL OF WORDSWORTH. 283
is thy sting ? grave, where is thy victory 1 ' Dear Mrs.
Wordsworth has all the earthly support she can have ; her two
sons are with her, and heavenly support is mercifully given
her. She is able in calm resignation to occupy herself with
household duties much as usual. The funeral is to take place
to-morrow. It has, as you truly say, been a great privilege to
have seen this great and good man so nearly. I think it may
be said of him ' that he did justly, loved mercy, and walked
humbly with his God.' The funeral is to be very private
only Dr. Davy invited from this house. Margaret, the girls,
and I intend to drive to Grasmere an hour before, to Mr.
Jefferies', and we shall go into the church before it arrives."
To the Same.
" 1st May 1850.
" Did I not, dear child, give you a detailed account of the
funeral ] If I did not, it must have been from the impression
that Margaret had done so, when we returned from that
mournful scene. We met Mr. and Mrs. Barker 1 on the way
to Grasmere Church. They only heard of our great poet's
death as they came the day before, and could not resist the
desire to pay this last tribute of respect to his memory.
"The same simultaneous feeling filled the old church of
Grasmere with unbidden but most sure mourners. When Mrs.
Wordsworth, supported by her two sons, followed the coffin
into the church, I should not have recognised her figure, it was
so bowed down with grief ; but she bore it calmly, and I stood
opposite to her when she bent over the grave. When she was
seated in the carriage on leaving the churchyard, Mr. Quilli-
nan told us they feared she would have fainted. She did not,
however, and after she returned home she resumed such firm-
ness and composure that she joined them at tea, and made it
for them.
" Every Grasmere face you know of the upper grade was at
the funeral, but I was sorry not to see any of the peasantry,
he was so peculiarly the poor man's friend. James Fleming
was there, and the Greens. I had intended to go on that day
to Lancrigg, but really, after the solemn scene in Grasmere
1 Present Bishop of Sydney, and his wife.
284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
churchyard, I could not give my mind to household cares and
troubles, so we returned straight to Lesketh How and passed
the evening quietly. I slept little that night, and in the
morning I put into measured lines the thoughts that had kept
me waking, which one of the girls is to copy for you."]
THOUGHTS OX LEAVING GRASMERE CHURCHYARD, APRIL 27, 1850,
AFTER THE FUNERAL OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
WE saw him laid within the quiet grave,
Near to the yew he planted. 'Twas a day
Of most rare brightness, and the little birds
Sang no sad requiem o'er the hallowed spot :
'Twas as they welcomed him to his last home.
All Nature glowed instinct with tender love
For him, her fervent worshipper, no more
To chant her praises 'mid her mountain wilds,
Her streams and valleys, " vocal thro' his song."
There lives not one whose pilgrimage on earth
Has been more blest, by God's especial grace,
In stirring Heaven-ward thoughts in fellow-men.
His was no narrow creed ; he loved mankind
Because God's law is love ; and many hearts
In loneliness and grief have felt his power
Work like a charm within them, lifting high
Their thoughts from earthly aims and sordid cares
To life's great purpose for the world to come.
Sweet was the privilege of those who shared
His daily converse, marked his blameless course,
And learned the true philosophy of life
Under his teaching, simple, but sublime.
Peace to his honoured memory ; peace to those
Who cherish fervently within their souls
The beautiful realities he taught.
\Letter from J. Baillie.
" MY DEAR MRS. FLETCHER, Your Thoughts on Leaving
Grasmere Churchyard are so touching and so just that I cannot
delay one moment expressing my sympathy. They do indeed
ON THE CASE OF SOMERSET THE SLAVE. 285
express the peculiar worth, simplicity, and wisdom of the
man, and nobody will pass through that place of graves with-
out feeling it deeply. William Wordsworth taught much in
his own peculiar way, and we were not quite aware how much
and how effectually he taught till his noble lesson was nearly
drawing to a close.
" Many thanks to you for sending us a copy of these lines, and
for letting us know how his excellent wife, Mrs. Wordsworth,
bears up under her severe affliction. She was a mate worthy
of him or any man, and his sister too, such a devoted, noble
being as scarcely any other man ever possessed. . . .
" To have a grandson and his son returning from India on a
three years' furlough is indeed an uncommon event. May this
great-grandchild arrive in safety and be a blessing to you all !
The boy will think his great-granddame a young beauty if you
look as well on his arrival as when I saw you last. . . .
" The air is mild and delightful on our hill, and we breathe it
with thankfulness, though in the course of nature we cannot
expect, and should not desire, to breathe it long.
" With all kind wishes to yourself and your distinguished
family, I remain, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, affectionately yours,
" J. BAILLIE.
"HAMPSTEAD, Tuesday Morning, June llth, [1850.]"
The following letter, addressed to Harriet Martineau, on the
subject of Somerset, the Negro boy, was written about this
period, and was, I believe, inserted at Miss Martineau's desire,
in some Anti-slavery periodical either here or in America :
Mrs. Fletcher to Harriet Martineau.
"LANORIGG, 1850.
"DEAR Miss MARTINEAU, It has been said that the
noblest act of the British Parliament was that which gave
twenty millions of British gold to purchase the freedom of
eighty thousand slaves in the British colonies. I think it
was a still nobler act of national justice and humanity when
in the case of Somerset, in May 1772, it was decided by the
verdict of a London jury that the moment a slave set foot on
English ground he was free !
286 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
" In the summer of 1807, when I resided with my family
in Northumberland, I had the good fortune to meet with an
intelligent old lady, Mrs. Judith Sharp, the sister of Granville
Sharp. She gave me many interesting anecdotes of her
brother. Though descended from an old family in the county
of Northumberland, Mr. Sharp was himself a shopkeeper in
Cheapside. In one of his early morning walks in the suburbs
of London, he met a poor negro boy ; and observing that his
head was bound with a bloody handkerchief, he asked what
accident had befallen him. The boy simply said, 'It was
Massa did it.' On questioning him further, Mr. Sharp
learned that the poor slave had been sent as a present from a
slaveholder in Jamaica to his brother, a merchant in London,
and that this London slaveholder had, in a moment of brutal
anger, struck the boy a desperate blow on the head with some
sharp instrument. The boy ran away, and had been some
days begging in the streets, having no one to protect or take
care of him, Mr. Sharp took him to the nearest hospital, had
his wounds examined and dressed, left him under medical care
for some days, and when all danger from the wounds was
over, he took him to his own home, and bade him remain in
his service, at the same time acquainting his former master
where he was to be found. The ruffian claimed him as his
property. This was exactly what Mr. Sharp wished. He
defended the negro's right to freedom before a jury in
Westminster Hall ; and Lord Mansfield had the honour to
record there the immortal verdict which became from that
day the law of England. Not many days after that great
event was known throughout all London, Mrs. Judith Sharp
told me a lady was sitting in her balcony overlooking the
Thames between London Bridge and the West India Docks ;
she saw a small vessel hurrying towards these docks, and
heard a piercing cry, and the name of ' Granville Sharp !
Granville Sharp !' loudly shrieked as the vessel passed rapidly
below her balcony. It instantly struck her ' This must be
a kidnapped negro ;' and, without a moment's delay, this
energetic woman went straight to the Lord Mayor, made an
affidavit of what she had seen and heard, and obtained a
warrant to search every vessel in the West India Docks for
FA MIL Y GA THE RING A T LANCRIGG. 287
him who had cried so loudly on Granville Sharp for mercy.
After some hours' search, a young negro was found concealed
under an empty hogshead, hi.s hands and feet tied together, and
his mouth bandaged. This victim of avarice and cruelty was
instantly liberated by that glorious verdict of a London jury.
" Oh that America would learn this lesson before it is too
late to avert a servile war that she would learn to ' be just
and fear not.' Had George Washington lived in our days, lii.s
magnanimous spirit would have taken the side of Negro
Emancipation as fearlessly as he did that of American
Independence. He did not live up to that period of social
progress which some of the enlightened Americans of the
Northern States have now reached. In his day, the mother
country, who boasted herself free, was not ashamed to carry
on the slave-trade, and to curse her possessions in the Southern
States of America by leaving them the legacy of that most
foul and impious traffic. But a greater than Washington will
yet arise in America, a man capable of making a great personal
sacrifice of property in human beings, one that will not only
plead the Negroes' cause in Congress, but will risk all personal
consequences, and will hold out the right hand of fellowship
to such a noble effort of humanity and justice. Such a day,
I trust, is not far distant in America, when Mrs. Chapman,
you, and many others, who have laboured in this most
righteous cause, will find their reward in its accomplishment.
I am, dear Miss Martineau, truly and respectfully yours,
" ELIZA FLETCHER."]
I remained with my friends at Lesketh How till the
4th of May 1850, on which day Margaret came with me
to Lancrigg and remained with me some days, leaving
Grace and Sissy alternately to be my companions before
Mary and Sir John, Josephine, and little Edward, arrived.
It was a happy arrival ; Mary's cheerful countenance
denoted a heart at ease, and Sir John and Josephine
expressed cordial admiration of Lancrigg. Mary and he
employed themselves actively in thinning the shrubberies
a few days after they came. Josephine and Eddy explored
288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
their favourite copses, and Lancrigg was a scene of much
enjoyment to us all. When, after three weeks, Sir John's
leave of absence expired, he returned to Haslar with
Josephine, and Mary and I had some weeks of tete-h-tete.
[A large family gathering assembled at Lancrigg during the
summer of 1850. The party from India arrived there on the
llth August, her eldest grandson George Fletcher, his wife
and child. It was then our mother first saw her little great-
grandson Miles Angus. She says of him at the time, "Dear
little Miles is the handsomest and most sweet-tempered and
engaging child of his age I have ever seen." After we returned
to Haslar our mother had a pleasant little visit from Alfred
Tennyson, who spent that summer with his wife at Tent Lodge,
Coniston. His visit was much appreciated by all at Lancrigg.
From Mrs. Fletcher to her daughter Mary.
" October 16th, 1850.
" We were so fortunate as to meet our little postman Dove
at the Town End yesterday, on our way to Coniston, and got
from him your delightful packet. Pray give Sir John my best
thanks for his share of it. Mr. James Marshall read it aloud
to the pleasant coterie round the fireside at his own house,
Lord Mouteagle being an earnest listener, as well as Aubrey
de Vere. The party at the Marshalls' were, Lord and Lady
Monteagle, Lady de Vere and her agreeable son Aubrey, with
whose travels in Greece we have lately been much delighted.
" Lord Monteagle is very animated and pleasant, and has
much Irish humour. He spoke with enthusiasm of the
wonderful energy of Mrs. Chisholm, through whose individual
exertions no less than 15,000 emigrants, chiefly Irish,
have been sent to Australia, and once when she was accom-
panying about 1500 Irish emigrants through a narrow defile,
up the country, she was told there was a fight begun between
the Connaughtmen and the Tipperary boys, and that they
blocked up the way, on which she speedily rode onward and
told them, they should not fight there, but if they must fight,
they should climb the mountain and descend into the plain
LETTER FROM LORD COCKBURN. 2S9
below and fight out their battle, as they would have room
enough without obstructing their neighbours. They were
heartily ashamed of themselves, and cheered their commander
with a hearty cheer.
" We were very sorry to find Mr. and Mrs. Tennyson had
left Tent Lodge on Monday, as I hoped to see them again. I
like to hear her talk of your husband, which she does con
amore.
" I like ' In Memoriam ' better the more I read it, but I
want you beside me very much when I do."
From Lord Cockburn to ATrs. Fletcher.
"EDINBURGH, November 1850.
" MY DEAR MRS. FLETCHER, I am very sensible of your
kindness ; I am not just so strong as I was, but am getting
rapidly better. The Life is, so far as scheming and preparing
are concerned, advancing, but nothing has yet been done in
the way of actual writing, or indeed could have been done,
but I do hope to finish some Memoir of Jeffrey and his times
which may not be unworthy of either.
" The Scotch bull is expected to be roaring in a few days.
Our Calvinistic souls are to be put under the charge of seven
Bishops. Sawney will make a terrible uproar, because
Bishops, no matter of what sort, are hereditarily odious to
him. It was they who squeezed his thumbs and his legs a
few years ago. Whatever the law or the policy may be, it is
an unfortunate occurrence. It will revive sectarian hatreds
and increase the difficulties of general education. But on these
matters the human mind has not advanced one inch during
the last five hundred years, and considering the nature of that
mind it may be doubted if it will advance one inch in the
next five hundred years. Yours very faithfully,
"H. COCKBURN."
Lesketh How, 1st January 1851. How many mercies
have I experienced since last New Year's Day ! Oh that
I were sufficiently thankful for God's loving-kindness
towards me in all His dispensations ! I will not say the
T
290 A UTOBIOGRAPHY.
last year has been without its trials, troubles, and disap-
pointments, for who can expect to escape from them ]
8th March 1851. It will be a fortnight to-morrow
since Mrs. Joanna Baillie died, at the age of eighty-nine.
It is just fifty years this summer since Miss Millar intro-
duced me to the pleasure and privilege of her acquaintance.
She was truly a woman of genius, original in her conceptions,
full of brilliant imagination, elevation of mind, and turn for
humour. Her taste was simple, and her affections strong
and tender, with most unaffected and unpretending manners.
She was much sought by the literary, the fashionable, and
the learned world, and could count on her list of friends all
the distinguished writers of the age in which she lived, yet
she was perfectly unspoiled by the homage paid her, and
loved her old friends with unchangeable affection. She
died peacefully after a few hours' illness Sunday the 23d
of February. It is a satisfaction to me that Angus, being
in London at the time, was allowed by her nephew, William
Baillie, to take a cast from her face after death, so that the
lineaments of her fine countenance may be preserved in
marble. Angus has been superintending another work
of art, a medallion of Wordsworth, to be executed by
Mr. Woolner, and placed in Grasmere Church; thus he
has the privilege of assisting to perpetuate the memory of
two great poets.
Lancrigg, 25th August 1851. Some old friends have
taken us on their way to the Crystal Palace. Among
these were Mr. and Mrs. John Mylne and their two nice
little girls. Mrs. Mylne read me a review she had written
some years ago on the subject of female education. It is
remarkably able, and I know few women who could have
written it. Then we had the pleasure of Mrs. Stirling's
delightful society for two or three days. There is a fresh-
ness and animation, an originality and gentle-heartedness
LAST EDINBURGH VISIT, 291
about her that is most engaging. Our next beloved guest
was dear Catherine Hughes, who, I verily believe, loves me
like a daughter, and I feel her as such, more than any one
out of my own family.
On the 13th of September 1851, Mrs. Taylor, her
daughter, and I, set off on our Scottish expedition. To
see my venerable friend Miss Millar once more in her
own house, was one of the principal objects of my journey,
and to attend Henry Fletcher's wedding was another.
After I left Milheugh on the 19th, I reached Doune, where,
at Old Newton, kind good Miss MacNab had provided
everything for our comfort. The profound quietness, the
pure dry air, and lovely scenery, have agreed with me so
well that I feel much better than when I set out.
On the 1st of October we paid a most agreeable visit to
our friends, the Miss Spiers', at Laurel Hill. There we
found six amiable sisters living in the most perfect domes-
tic harmony, and occupied in doing good.
On the 6th of October we left Old Xewton, and reached
Edinburgh, where, after gliding swiftly under the Castle
rock and through the Mound, we found Henry Fletcher
and Charlotte Monro waiting for us. Mrs. Taylor had
parted from us at Dunblane, preferring a lonely sketch-
ing tour in the Highlands to our wedding festivities. I
was affectionately received at 35 Heriot Eow, and saved
from fatigue by the watchful kindness of our friends
there.
On Saturday I went with Angus to pay visits, not to
the living, but to the family burial-place on the Calton
Hill, where so many dear to us were laid at rest, and from
thence to see the spot where our little, darlings, Humphry
and John Miles Davy, were laid in one grave. On
Sunday evening Mrs. Stirling went with me to see the
grave of Jeffrey. Nobody entered so entirely into my
292 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Italian sympathies as Mrs. Stirling. She is delightfully
agreeable.
On Tuesday came the marriage. Dr. Alison kindly
sent his carriage to take me to St. John's. There was a
large party of Charlotte Monro's family and friends.
Henry had only his old grandmother in her white silk
bonnet, his uncle Angus, brother George, and cousin Mary.
The much-beloved Dean Eamsay, long the friend and
pastor of the bride, officiated on this happy occasion.
The bride was becomingly dressed, and looked well; dear
Henry very interesting in the calm happiness of his
deportment.
My farewell visit to Edinburgh was not blemished by
one dark spot or painful recollection. I had seen many
valued friends for the last time ; all very, very kind, some
very affectionate. I had the happiness to see Mrs. Burge
and her incomparable niece, once more in their former
happy home, and of infinite value to Dr. Alison.
I stayed a few days to rest at Lesketh, and on the
8th of November set off with Mrs. Davy en route for
Haslar. Most kindly received at Headingley Parsonage ;
stayed there all Sunday, and reached Mr. and Mrs. W.
E. Forster's, near Bradford, by four o'clock ; admired
the views from Rawdon, but still more the domestic peace
and happiness that prevail in that happy home. Next
day we went to Manchester, dined with our delightful
friend Mrs. Gaskell, with whom Margaret, Angus, and I
took up our quarters ; and we went to a great Hungarian
meeting that same day at five o'clock ; it was held in the
Free Trade Hall, and there were seven thousand persons
present. Kossuth, the great Hungarian patriot, was hailed
by universal acclamation. After a speech from the chair-
man, and a much better one from Mr. Bright, Kossuth
rose, and with extraordinary eloquence, notwithstanding
KOSSUTH.MRS. GASKELL. THOMAS WRIGHT. 293
his foreign accent and idiom, he delighted the audience
with a clear, straightforward statement of the wrongs that
Hungary has endured from the House of Hapsburg, and of
its determination to shake off the yoke, if England and
America, by peaceful intervention, would stop the encroach-
ments of Eussian and Austrian despotism. Kossuth's
appearance is very interesting; he is not above the middle
size, slender in person, but dignified in deportment, his
countenance highly intellectual, the expression mild and
firm, that of a man of genius. I sat there five hours, but
when his speech was finished we left the meeting, and it
seemed that my extreme, old age served me in place of rank,
so little was I annoyed by any pressure of the crowd, who
considerately made way for me. It was delightful to
witness the interest the masses in this great town of
Manchester took, in the foreign politics of this great man,
and it is only under the government of so much beloved
a Sovereign as Queen Victoria, with a Liberal Cabinet and
a reformed House of Commons, that such a meeting could
be held with perfect safety, though Kossuth did not utter
a sentiment to which a constitutional Englishman might
not respond with perfect loyalty. In the days of George
the Fourth, when great discontent with the Government
and disaffection to the personal character of the Sovereign
prevailed, it would scarcely have been safe.
At Mrs. Gaskell's we had the great pleasure next day
at breakfast of meeting Thomas Wright, a philanthropist
of no ordinary cast of mind, profoundly pious and humble-
minded, with the most energetic devotion to the principle
of doing good. He devotes every hour he can spare from
his employment, that of overseer of an iron-foundry, to
visiting the prison, and doing all he can to reclaim convicts
from their evil ways. He has been the means, under God's
grace, of reclaiming more than four hundred, and is so self-
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
denied that he seldom allows himself more than four hours
out of the twenty-four for sleep.. He is a hale man at
sixty-six years of age.
On arriving in London I had the happiness to meet
Mary from Haslar, and we had both the very great
pleasure of finding Gracilla Boddington in the same hotel.
She came to us the next morning when Mazzini was with
us, and was much struck, as I had been formerly, with the
likeness of his countenance to the St. Francis of Guido.
[From M. R's Note-look.
November 16th, 1851.
I had not seen Mazzini for several years until yesterday,
and was never more struck with the increase of happiness
resulting from having proved himself a man of action as well
as a man of thought. The melancholy grace, the sickness
of the heart, the indescribable look of suffering for others
which had struck me so much six years ago, had disappeared,
and he is now a man full of experience, patience, and hope,
one fitted to inspire that confidence which he himself feels,
and infuse life and hope into his country. The treachery of
France to the cause of the people has unfortunately thrown
him more than he himself desires into association with the
party of Ledru Rollin, of whose character he has no high
opinion, un grand gamin, easily led to good or evil by the
impulse of the moment. He did not deny the position ad-
vanced by Dr. Boott, that a popular movement in France
was likely to lead to the most frightful excesses, that the
feelings of the employed against their employers were most
ferocious and bloody ; but it is evident that he feels and
knows that things cannot go on in France as they are now
doing, and he said, " We a little trust in Providence that
more good will come out of the evil than we can at present
perceive. There is indeed no one man in France to meet
its wants, but I hope some man will appear to appeal to what
is good, and save her from what we all so much dread,' He
mentioned two men in whom he had some hope. One was
MAZZINI. FOREIGN POLITICS. 295
Carnot. He knew all the leaders of the Republican party, but
had no confidence in any one but Ledru Rollin with regard to
Italy. In speaking of him, Mazzini mentioned various little
traits which we should call very French, when one considers
the amount of suffering that must follow even the best revolu-
tion. Mazziui said, Ledru Rolliu and he were each smoking
cigars, with a little dog on the sofa between them ; it showed
signs of discomfort. " Poor little dog," said Ledru Rollin, " it
suffers, let us put away our cigars." He said he was doing all
he could to impress the Frenchman with his own views : " He
is a Frenchman, and I always feel it, but he is the only hope
for Italy out of itself. I .do not want the help of France, I
only want them to let us alone, and that cannot be accomplished
till the troops are withdrawn by a power friendly to us, as a
defeat would never be forgiven by the French."
Mazzini has no expectation of the day of Cavaignac or
Lamartiue coining round again. The first he said justly lost
his influence by his unnecessary slaughter of the populace in
the insurrection of May 1848. He might have quelled it at
once, but he allowed it to go a certain length to do the thing
with greater military effect. This they never can forgive.
Mazzini gave a shrug of decided hopelessness when Lamartine
was mentioned, but he did not deal at all in personal invective,
even against the President. His mind seems too full of hope
about Italy to admit of gloomy ideas about other countries,
and one ought to place one's-self in the Italian, not the French
position, when one talks with him. The dungeons of Naples
make as strong a case for the necessity of a change with all
its attendant horrors as Dr. Boott's Lyons anecdote was felt
by him to be a convincing argument for leaving things as they
are. Mazzini said Mr. Gladstone's letters had been of much
use in this country in rousing the attention of the humane to
the real state of things, and he considers Italy already ripe for
a change, and spoke, half seriously, half in playfulness, of
hoisting his flag on the Quirinal this time next year, and of
his hope of seeing my mother there. When Dr. Boott spoke
of his power of attaching others to himself, he said, " It is
because I trust them. They had been so long told they were
a poor, wretched people, fit only to be slaves, that they began
296 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
to believe it, but I gave them a new life by telling them they
were men and brothers." He said a remarkable proof had
been given of the attachment of the Roman shopkeepers to
him when a great friend of his went there. She could not
get any accounts sent to her. He spoke of Kossuth with
much interest, said that they had long interviews with each
other in London, four or five hours at a time, and that they
understood each other completely. He rejoiced in the demon-
strations then going on as a new feature in the English life,
one which was much required. It is impossible to convey by
notes an impression of Mazzini's conversation, so much of his
eloquence depends on his look, his attitude, what he says and
what he does not say, for a great man in full possession of a
great subject is often to be quite as much admired for what he
does not say as for what he does, and this one feels very much
with Mazzini ; rancour and distrust and anger, even against
evil, seem to be extinguished in him.]
On the 15th of November 1851 Mary and I reached
Haslar, and I have passed two months of great quietness
and tranquillity, in the enjoyment of excellent health, re-
ceiving the most constant kindness and minute attention
to my comfort from dearest Mary and her excellent hus-
band, while Josephine is always my ready and kind
amanuensis.
January 1852. About thirty friends and neighbours
were invited to celebrate my eighty-second birthday, on
the 15th of this month. Sir John, assisted by Sir Edward
Parry, put forth his strength in enacting charades; they
had been experienced in this innocent amusement, having,
during the long nights of an Arctic winter, often resorted
to masquerades and pantomimic exhibitions to divert and
cheer the ship's company in their dark and dismal abode
amid regions of " thick-ribbed ice." Music and singing
intervened between the acts, and after supper Sir Edward
Parry prefaced his toast to my health by a very affecting
LETTER TO MRS. DAVY. 297
allusion to the many mercies that had been spared to me
in my long pilgrimage such a speech as filled my eyes
with tears and my heart -with thankfulness.
[To Mrs. Arnold, from Mrs. Fletcher.
" HASLAR HOSPITAL, January 1852.
" If it pleases God to spare you to complete your eighty-
second year, as I have done, you will be surprised, as well as
deeply thankful, that you have not been made to feel you have
lived too long.
" Dear Margaret told me joyfully you had consented to be
one of her birthday guests on the 15th, and your own dear
letter of kind congratulations is tied up apart with those of my
children and grandchildren ; for you know you became one of
my children from the time you adopted me as a mother in my
short solitude at Bilton in 1829, and you have never since
disappointed the claim that adoption gave you to my love and
gratitude. . . .
"I dare not trust myself to speak of France, that self-destroyed
.country. I lost all sympathy with them when they allowed a
government chosen by universal suffrage to send an army for the
subjugation of Italy. That was an act of unmitigated oppres-
sion and injustice. The submission to the coup-d'etat is an
act of national suicide, an utter extinction of all that can elevate
or uphold the dignity or worth of man in his political relations.
I never was so hopeless of Continental affairs ; but I still trust
that British statesmen will take warning, and, by timely ex-
tension of safe measures of reform in Parliament, ward off
revolutionary dangers. I still put faith in Lord John's
honesty of purpose and courage."
To Mrs. Davy, from Mrs. Fletclier.
" HASLAK, *jtli January 1852.
" You will receive this on your fifty-fourth birthday. A
blessed day it was to me, and has been till this time. I well
remember dear aunty bringing you to me when you were first
washed and dressed, saying, ' I have brought you a dark-eyed
298 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
daughter,' and you opened your large dark eyes, the first that
had been seen in our flock, and aunty pronounced you like my
mother, from your eyes, and then you first nestled in my
bosom, my little dark-eyed daughter. It was a day of
thankfulness to God, and such you have made it ever since.
May He continue to preserve and bless you for ever and
ever !
" We have finished the first volume of Southey's Life and
Letters. We like his autobiography, but were disappointed in
his letters. Oh how inferior to Cowper's letters ! There is a
want of the playfulness of youth, and so poetical a mind as
his should have betrayed itself in the open confidence of friend-
ship. He was ' so pure in heart ' he had nothing to conceal,
but he does not seem to have anything to tell but what is
passing through his mind in preparation for the press. He
overtasked himself as a literary drudge, and in his case above
all others you see how unfortunate it was he had no other
profession, and made poetry his working machine rather than
his delightful recreation. I think some of his political enthu-
siasm must have been suppressed. It is impossible, feeling so
strongly as he did the public interests that occupied minds
much less fervid and elevated than his, that he should not
have written more eloquently on these subjects to his bosom
friends than appears in these letters. I think the prudence
and perhaps the prejudices of his biographer has induced him
to suppress the political ebullitions of his mind from 1793 to
1800."
To Mrs. Davy.
" HASLAR, January \lth, 1852.
"... I have so much to thank you and my dear oes 1 for,
in these packets I received on my birthday, that I know not
what to say, except that I received them all with a grateful
and thankful heart ; grateful for all your kindness, and thank-
ful that God in sparing me to such a great old age had been
merciful in giving me so many affectionate children and grand-
children, and had extended to me the capacity of enjoying the
1 Oes, the Scotch name for grandchildren.
LETTER TO MRS. DAVY. 299
many proofs of love and tenderness I am continually receiving
from them."
To tJie Same.
"ILvsLAR, February 1852.
" Yesterday, the day being mild, Josephine and I went to
visit Titchfield Castle, the birthplace of the daughter of < the
virtuous Southampton,' Lady Rachel Russell. I sat with the
gamekeeper of the Delmd family, an old man of eighty-one,
who has been forty-six years in the family of the present
owner, Squire Delme', while Josephine walked about. He
was garrulous about the greatness of the Delme's, but when
I asked him if he had ever heard of Lady Rachel Russell, he
said, ' No ; you see, madam, I don't know Latin, but I have
been gamekeeper to the Delme's for near fifty years.'
" He showed us a very accurate model of the ancient castle,
two feet long, and told us it was made out of the corks that
were drawn from Squire Delinks cellars by that gentleman's
butler, and added with a sigh, ' Oh they were grand cellars ! I
knew them well.' He showed us an oak-tree four hundred years
old j saying that painters often came to paint it. We did not
get home till four o'clock, when Mary had something warm
ready for me, and I went to lie down till six, and was ready to
appear at a dinner of doctors. I heard of another castle to go
and see, Porchester, a Roman castle said to have been con-
structed by Julius Csesar at the time of his invasion.
" To Porchester then we must go, must go."
In addition to the castle-hunting described in these letters
during this last winter my mother spent at Haslar, we took a
day at Winchester and visited the shrine of Jane Austen, with
even more interest than that of William of Wickham. We
talked over the happy days of reading aloud the delightful
novels of Jane Austen, when the author was as little known as
that of Waverley, and when some of our party gave our mother
the name, of Miss Bates, from the favourable view she took of
all the human race and the events of the world.]
The month of March, was passed very agreeably at
300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Haslar, Mary and I taking daily drives from twelve till
two, never being twice prevented by cold weather. We
saw many lambs this month playing in the fields ; took a
cold dinner with us one day to Midfield ; it was a bright
day, and we enjoyed it much.
On the 19th of April Mary and I bade adieu to Haslar,
and arrived at a late dinner the same day at Peasemore,
travelling by railroad through a very interesting country
new to us, by Reading, Newbury, etc. We found Henry
and his excellent wife in a beautiful cottage, the beau-idfal
of a curate's abode in its combination of simplicity and
elegance. I never saw a happier couple ; the absence of
vanity and the cultivation of cheerful contentment are
the human elements of this happiness, along with the
confidence, esteem, and affection that subsist between them.
This visit was a real happiness to me, as it afforded a
confirmation of my good opinion of, and regard for, both
parties.
Sir John Eichardson joined us at Lancrigg in May 1852,
and employed himself for several hours of every day in
directing a labourer to make walks through the south copse,
an extension of our rambles I had long wished for, but
never could have accomplished it so successfully without
his good taste and active engineering. Another field of
his judicious improvements was in the high terrace, com-
manding the most beautiful view of Easedale, till, at the
end of nine dry weeks, came deluges of rain, and all out-
door work was interrupted.
On the 12th of August Jane Fletcher and her two chil-
dren came, she looking delicate, but the children lively and
in good health. I never regretted impaired strength and
ability for exertion more than in not being able to play
more with these dear children. When Mary left me, Mrs.
Taylor's watchful attention to my health and comfort never
VISIT FROM HENRY AND CHARLOTTE FLETCHER. 301
ceased; she scarcely ever left me for half an hour. The
extreme heat of the weather for some weeks affected my
sleep, but I thank God my many restless hours were with-
out pain or acute suffering ; and though I was less disposed
for the pleasures of conversation, I enjoyed the visits of
many friends this summer. On the 15th of September
1852, James Wilson and his family came to Thorney How.
It is refreshing to meet an old friend with unchanged feel-
ings of respect and kindness on both sides. It was also a
happiness to us to receive a visit from Henry and Charlotte
Fletcher, and while they were with us we collected as many
friends and neighbours as we could to hear her sing. On
one of these days in September, Sir Edward and Lady
Parry, with five more of their party, came to us from
Keswick. It was a very enjoyable day, and I had most
kindly letters from them both, proving that the pleasure
it afforded was reciprocal.
Christmas Day, 1852. Two months have passed very
serenely and cheerfully ; I could not have had companions
more desirous of promoting my comfort and happiness than
Angus and Miss MacNab. She is a most agreeable inmate,
as well as an attached and faithful friend.
A short visit from George before his embarkation for
India has gladdened my heart, by his affectionate manners
towards me and all his relations.
I pray fervently to be more deeply sensible of all the
mercies I have experienced during the past year. Some-
times I have a painful feeling of being useless, and a mere
cumberer of the earth ; but I know this is an ungrateful
and unholy feeling, and I always combat it. It is not a
meet preparation for "the company of saints made per-
fect;" it is worldly and selfish. Lord, give me grace to
resign myself wholly to Thy will in thankfulness.
302 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[Lord Cockburn to Mrs. Fletcher.
" EDINBURGH, 12th March 1852.
" A copy of Jeffrey's Life, which is to be published on Tues-
day, leaves this to-morrow morniug addressed to you.
" There are some things not in it which you will miss ; but
I found it absolutely necessary to confine it to purely personal
matter, and there are some things in it which I hope you will
like.
"My object has solely been to unfold the character of our late
friend, and by doing so, to give the public better reasons for
loving him than it had before.
" How little soever may be thought of the first volume, I
cannot doubt that the second, written entirely by Jeffrey, must
impart undivided delight. If there be better letters in the
English language, I have never seen them.
" I wish I had an hour's dialogue with you on the state of
the world. The general opinion in this Northern region,
deducting Radicals and Tories, is strongly against the new
Reform Bill, and seems to all good Whigs to introduce what
is practically universal suffrage, and this they think a thing
only to be liked by County Tories and Town Radicals.
"A terrible retribution surely awaits, and sooner than
they think, the tyrants of the Continent. I, knowing the
ever young benevolence of your heart, talk of these things to
you, because I know they interest you.
" Farewell. Though absent, be assured of the respect and
affection in which you are held by all your Edinburgh friends,
by none more sincerely than by me. Yours faithfully,
"H. COCKBUEN."]
ON THE UNION AND COMPANIONSHIP BETWEEN WORDSWORTH AND
HIS SISTER, AFTER READING HER GRASMERE JOURNAL.
BY MRS. FLETCHER, AGED EIGHTY- TWO.
IF in thine inmost soul there chance to dwell
Aught of the poetry of human life,
Take thou this book, and with a humble heart
Follow these pilgrims in their joyous walk ;
LIXES ON WORDSWORTH AND HIS SISTER. 303
And mark their high commission, not to domes
Of pomp Baronial, or gay Fashion's haunts,
Where worldlings gather, but to rural homes,
To cottages and hearths where kindness dwelt,
They bent their way ; and not a gentle breeze
Inhaled in all their wanderings, not a flower
Blooming by hedge-wayside, or mountain rill,
But lent its inspiration, scent, and sound,
Deepening the inward music of their hearts.
She touched the chord and he gave forth its tone ;
Without her, he had idly gazed and dreamed
In Fancy's region of celestial things ;
But she by sympathy disclosed the might
That slumbered in his soul, and drew it thence,
In richest numbers of subduing power
To soften, harmonize, and soothe mankind ;
Nor less to elevate, and point the way
To Truth Divine, not with polemic skill,
But sought from Nature and the human heart,
With sacred wisdom from the fount of God.]
June 9th, 1853. Dear Catherine Hughes came to me
early in April, and remained till the 2d of May. She
was a most cheerful and affectionate companion, and helped
me greatly in shaping the little garden ; she also exerted
much energy and bodily labour, as well as good taste, in
ornamenting the avenue with primroses, daffodils, and
sundry wild-flowers.
My causes of thankfulness to Almighty God are more
numerous than words can tell, more in number than the
hairs of my head, more unceasing than the breath I draw.
Let my whole remaining life be one hymn of thankfulness,
till I am permitted to join in that blessed privilege in the
life everlasting.
January 2d, 1854. I have entered upon another year,
the eighty-fourth, of my pilgrimage. I am fully sensible of
all my unworthiness of the least of God's mercies, but the
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
want of continual praise and thankfulness weighs upon me
most. A new cause of rejoicing occurred when, on the
25th of November, I received a letter from the Lord Chan-
cellor (Lord Cranworth) telling me that on the urgent
request of Lord Brougham, he had appointed my grandson,
the Rev. Henry Fletcher, to the Rectory of North Stoke,
near Bath. My first feeling and expression was Now I
see why it has pleased God to prolong my life, that I might
live to see dear Henry in a position of independence and
usefulness. I was greatly pleased that Lord Brougham had
obtained this for Henry, expressly on the ground of the
strong claim given by his grandfather's labours in the
cause of Reform.
I had likewise, about the same time, the comfort of
hearing that Archibald had, through the influence of the
Duke of Argyll, been appointed to the post of Lieutenant-
Ordinary of the Devonport dockyard, thus placing him on
full pay, and in a situation favourable to a married man
with a family. Here was another great cause of thank-
fulness.
[To Mrs. Fletcher.
ON HER EIGHTY-FOURTH BIRTHDAY, SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 1854.
" DEAR venerated Friend, with welcome true,
With trembling joy, we hail thy natal day,
Bright with a Sabbath's sanctity, and pay
To Him, who bids another year renew
This festival beloved, thanks largely due :
For not in vain He grants thy lengthen'd stay,
For which we've fondly pray'd, for which we pray.
Blessings still crown thee, and thy pathway strew !
Still through thine eye thy heart sends forth its beams
Of kindling love, more sacred hour by hour ;
Still from thy chasten'd zeal, thy mind's young power,
Thy steadfast faith, a holier virtue streams :
LETTER TO MRS. ARNOLD. 305
Thus blessing, thus be blest, till thou art given
A birthday and a Sabbath both in heaven !
" R. P. G."
[Part of a letter to Mrs. ffugftes.
" I don't suppose Dr. Davy thinks there are any alarming
symptoms in my present case of influenza ; but, on the very
borders of eighty -four, I cannot help feeling that I am walking
through 'the valley of the shadow of death.' God be
praised, I can say with the Psalmist, ' I will fear no evil, for
Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.'
Humbly trusting in the mercy of God through my Redeemer,
I have no fear of death except the mortal conflict ; but my
gracious God, whose goodness and mercy have followed me all
the days of my life, will support me in that awful hour. I
will trust in Him, whether I live or die, for ever and ever. I am
going to rise, and go down to the drawing-room to meet my
friends from Lesketh How. E. F.
" January 1854."
Letter to Mrs. Arnold.
" LANCRIGG, January 1854.
" Yes, dearest Mrs. Arnold, I did rejoice with you in spirit,
for all the blessings that surrounded you on New Year's Day.
Long may you be the centre and bond of so much family con-
cord and affection. You well deserve to be so.
"I think I told you Angus had given me an animated descrip-
tion of the family party at Fox How, the day you kindly
allowed him to join it.
" I heard of you shivering (as you must have done) yesterday,
by poor Mary Fisher's grave. I hope you have not suffered
by that act of sympathy with Mrs. Wordsworth and of respect
for the departed. I long for Dr. Davy to give you leave to
come some day in the warm carriage with Margaret. I long
to hear all you have to tell me of your dear ones.
" Mary writes to me cheerfully, full of hope that we shall
meet once more. God grant it may be so. She is at the
post of duty. Mine is to ' stand and wait,' supported by
the ' rod aud staff,' the sure support of the aged pilgrim.
U
306 A UTOBIO GRAPH 'Y.
" I had a restless, feverish night, but ain better since morn-
ing. I can only add love, much love, to the children who
are with you, from your affectionate friend of five-and-twenty
years' standing. ELIZA FLETCHER."
From Mazzini, after his Mother's death.
1853 or 1854.
" DEAR MRS. FLETCHER, It is very late that I acknowledge
your kind, affectionate note ; but I acknowledged it then with
a grateful heart. I could not write on the subject of your
letter, but every word that came to me from friends in that
hour of need did good to me, and is recorded in my soul
to be never forgotten. My mother's death has left a blank
in my life that nothing can fill. She was a warm patriot,
shared in my belief, praised my efforts ; and the dream of
my individual life was that of meeting her once more on
this earth in the joy of triumph to be able to tell her,
' You see that we have not been living separate and lonely
for an illusion.' And this dream has vanished ; but if any-
thing can soothe such a grief, it is the soft expression of
truefelt sympathy for her and for myself, and of that I have
had more than I ever dreamt of deserving. My own native
town, and my second country, England, have become dearer
to me since then. Do not fear that I shall now think less
of my own life or embrace desperate schemes of insurrection.
I feel my mother as near me as before more sacred than
before ; and I feel bound to avoid everything that she would
blame or mourn about ; but even if I had not that feeling
watching within me, I would never compromise in an imprudent
attempt the progress of my country, and the life of the num-
bers who would follow me, without calculating the chances of
success."
" DEAR MRS. FLETCHER, Your note to Miss C. and the
article of Mr. Greg would make me despair about my ever
being able to see England take a correct view of the Italian
question. What practical hopes can you derive from Pied-
mont enjoying pure constitutional liberty 1 That the example
will act on the other Italian provinces ? There is no need of
LETTERS FROM MAZZINI. 307
that. Italy is morally ripe, and the love of nationality is far
more powerful in Lombardy, in Rome, and elsewhere, than in
Piedmont ; or that the King of Piedmont will set himself one
day at the head of the Italian crusade ? That is impossible.
Xo king ever will or can initiate a revolutionary movement,
exactly for the same reason which makes the ambition of
Louis Napoleon shrink from war as soon as its prosecution
becomes impossible without a land campaign which would
join the nationalities. The king of Piedmont cannot over-
throw the tyrant of Naples, much less the Pope. It is only
through a popular insurrection that such things can be done.
It is only through a national movement that the Italian nation
can be founded. Let us, then, continuously work towards
such a movement. It is my aim ; the task of my life and of
those who side by me. We do not agitate against Piedmont
or its king. We endeavour to rouse the nation. But to
rally, as you say, around the Piedmontese flag would amount
simply to accept inertness as a law, to condemn ourselves
to immobility, and to content ourselves with a fragment of
Italy. We really cannot ; we want Italian unity ; the king
of Piedmont cannot give it to us ; we must try, therefore,
to conquer it ourselves. It is only after a popular national
movement that a path for the Sardinian king might open ;
it was only after the Lombard insurrection that Charles Albert
was enabled to march ; he never would have initiated the
struggle. That is the true position of the question. Fifty
times we have said to all the sections of the Party, ' Adjourn
all discussions, and work towards the common aim ; if you
want the Sardinian monarchy to lead the crusade, let the
crusade be. You must act before, then claim the help of
monarchical Piedmont.' The men who declare the nation will
spring from the Sardinian monarchy are tout bonnement
renouncing all hopes and practical schemes. They have
broken the unity of the great national party ; they divert
the mind of our young people from the simple logical method
which they ought to pursue to hopes which prove deceptions.
Since 1848, Piedmont has done nothing for the Italian cause.
There has not been a single step in advance ; there has only
been a dangerous duality established when one single idea
303 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
was fermenting. The national cause would have been better
felt and understood had the same level of oppression remained
upon all the Italian populations. English people cannot
understand this ; they believe that a question of nationality
is solved in the same way as a question of liberty it is a
fundamental error. I have no party feeling, no personal
hope or aim, nothing that can overcloud or deviate my mind ;
I may, of course, be mistaken, but mine is a matter of deep
conviction, and it is impossible for me to modify or alter it.
Though sorry that I cannot on this point agree with you, I
am glad, my dear friend, that your note has afforded me an
opportunity of writing again to you, whom I love and revere
more than my silence would indicate. May God prolong your
life until the dawning of our national liberty appears ! and
remember that you have here a grateful and sincere friend in
"JOSEPH MAZZINI."
In March 1854 I spent a fortnight with dear Margaret
at her pleasant How. I continually blessed God to see
her walk in His ways, an example to her mother and to
all who observe her. Dr. Davy was most kindty attentive
to my health. I missed the cheerful faces of the girls ;
but their amusing letters from Edinburgh, Archibald's
weekly reports of his studies and progress at Cambridge,
with my precious Mary's letters from Haslar, kept my
heart in wholesome exercise. My warm-hearted friend,
Catherine Hughes, returned with me to Lancrigg. We
can go back with mutual interest over her earliest days to
my excellent aunt Dawson's admirable and unselfish char-
acter. She was very fond of Catherine.
Sunday, May 7, 1854. Yesterday Mrs. Davy brought
Mrs. Wordsworth to dinner. It is always a pleasure to
see the placid old age of dear Mrs. Wordsworth. Hers
has been a life of duty, and is now an old age of repose,
while her affections are kept in constant exercise by the
tender interest she takes in her grandchildren.
LETTER TO MRS. HUGHES. 309
Mrs. Arnold has been called away to see her youngest
son before his embarkation for Australia. She is a most
tender mother and a most faithful friend ; hers is a char-
acter in which it is not easy to find a fault. How often
have I to repeat that most comprehensive prayer of the
Psalmist " Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew
a right spirit within me," for I am too often " careful and
troubled about many things " that are of no importance,
while I fear I fail to " keep my heart with all diligence."
I am humbled with the consciousness of making small, if
any, spiritual progress, while I see my juniors suddenly
called to their eternal home. The unexpected death of
that truly great and good man, Lord Cockburn, has affected
me deeply. His was a righteous life, and " a righteous
God loveth righteousness." I am thankful he lived long
enough to raise an imperishable monument to the memory
of his friend Lord Jeffrey, in doing which his own great
talents and love of freedom and goodness are identified
with his subject.
[To Mrs. Hughes.
" April 29<7t, 1854.
" It would require a much longer scroll than I am able to
fill, my dearest Catherine, to tell you how much we miss you,
and how often we talk about you, of your animated social
qualities, of your affectionate sympathy in all our thoughts
and feelings. We like to trace you in all our walks and
wanderings, and are sorry you did not stay long enough to see
your primrose bed in the avenue in all its glory, for really it
has come out much more gaily than you or I gave it credit
for. The peony has made little or no progress since you left
us this day fortnight. Mary has had only one attack of head-
ache, and I one very bad night, but am now pretty well again,
as well as a sad heart will let me, for I received accounts of
the death of a dear old friend yesterday Lord Cockburn.
Mr. Fletcher and I always honoured and loved him for the
310 ' AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
inflexible integrity of his character, and the warmth and bene-
volence of his heart. His death will be deeply and widely
mourned in Scotland. He has not left his equal behind him.
You know he laid me under everlasting obligation by his just
and discriminating sketch of Mr. Fletcher's character in his
admirable 'Life of Jeffrey.' I have not slept since four this
morning, thinking over the many interesting traits of his
character, and the noble stand he made against the insolence
and oppression of a corrupt faction fifty years ago. He died
at seventy- six, in the full possession of his vigorous faculties.
I am thankful to have dearest Mary with me when I received
the shock of this sudden intelligence. It is a solemn admoni-
tion. He was seven years my junior. May God prepare me
for the awful summons, come when it may. I know I am not
unremembered in your prayers, dear child. Your truly attached
and faithful friend, E. FLETCHER."
June 24th, 1854. Nearly two months have glided
away since I have found time to make an entry in this
Journal. After two months of uninterrupted enjoyment
during the finest spring weather I ever remember in this
country, seeing my dear Mary enjoying her garden and
improve in health and cheerfulness, after her anxiety about
Edward all winter, she was suddenly called away to attend
Beatrice in scarlet-fever, near London. Not called away
by her kind and most indulgent husband, for he was him-
self attending his sick child, and did not wish Mary to
shorten her stay at Lancrigg, but her own sense of duty
decided her to exchange the delights of her mountain home
for Beatrice's sick-chamber. She was right, and I did not
dare to say a word to detain her. She happily found the
child convalescent.
It is remarkable how trials come in the very direction
where they are most felt. If Sir John Eichardson has an
inordinate affection, it is in his paternal relation. He has
always had not only a father's but a mother's love and
MRS. EMPSON. LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 311
care for his children, a patient, -watchful, tender, and
untiring love and forbearance that few, even kind, fathers
have ; and his faith and patience have been severely tried
by their delicacy of health, and frequently by their alarm-
ing illness. All this he has borne with uncomplaining
resignation ; the strength of his character is exemplified by
his patient submission to the will of God.
I have been greatly delighted within the last few days
with a speech of old Lord Lyndhurst, which reminded me
of the manly and fervid eloquence of Charles Fox. It was
not merely a declamatory exhibition of patriotic feeling,
but a profound and heartfelt appeal to the highest moral
principles that can actuate the government of nations, an
indignant reprobation of the unprincipled and audacious
attempt of Russia to trample on the freedom and civilisa-
tion of Europe.
We have had most pleasing intercourse with Mrs.
Empson. I never saw a more conscientious and devoted
mother, and we all thought her the most unworldly person
we had met with for a long time. No ambitious views for
her children ; that they may be good and happy is her only
aim. She drank tea with us twice, and brought her chil-
dren with her. It was a great pleasure to me to seek birds'
nests with Frank Jeffrey Empson, a very amiable and intelli-
gent boy ; at ten years old he is well read in Shakespeare.
On the 2 1 st of August I had the veiy great gratification
to meet Lord John Russell at luncheon at Fox How. This
truly honest and able statesman stopped at Low Wood Inn
with his family, on their way to Scotland, after the fatigues
of the session. Mr. Hodgson heard he was there, and
crossed the lake from Brathay to ask him to address a
meeting on opening a school at Skelwith Bridge. Lord
John cordially accepted the invitation. Mrs. Davy only
heard of this at two o'clock, and despatched her courier,
312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Mrs. Peel, with the news to us. We had not half done
dinner; down went our knives and forks, and up flew
William to bring down the horses from The Brow, harness
them, and drive with all despatch to Skelwith. We arrived
just before Lord John began to speak. He looked at me
with something like a look of recognition ; but it was forty-
four years since I had seen him, when he was a youth in
Edinburgh, and used to come sometimes with Mr. Playfair
to our evening parties in Castle Street. Hard work has
pressed upon him still more than years, and has given him
a worn and weary look. He said he believed good teach-
ing to be more important than the number of schools, for
as is the schoolmaster so will be the school. He quoted a
schoolmaster of great experience, who recommended a
spacious playground. "And here," said Lord John, "your
pupils have the mountains for their playground." He
paid a deserved tribute of respect to the memory of Dr.
Arnold, and when afterwards told that his widow was in
the room, said, " May I be introduced to her ?" She invited
him to luncheon the Monday following, and had the great
kindness to ask Margaret and me to meet him. I was
gratified to find he had not forgotten our former acquaint-
ance in Edinburgh. He spoke of those days with much
interest, of Playfair and Dugald Stewart especially. When
I told him Lord Cockburn's son-in-law, Mr. Cleghorn, had
lately told me Lord Cockburn had left a historical account
of Scotland, in what might be called the reign of terror,
his face lighted up with a radiant smile, and he said, "Yes,
even Dugald Stewart was afraid," adding, " No man but
Cockburn could have done it ; we sent for him to consult
him about the Reform Bill for Scotland." Lord John is a
man of few words, but I did not feel that there was any-
thing of hauteur or repulsiveness in his demeanour. There
is not a shade of vanity or egotism about him.
SPRINGFIELD LODGE. 313
[During the winter of 1854-55, it was thought best by
all her children, as well as by herself, that our mother should
be nearer medical advice during the cold season than she was
at Lancrigg, and near those who could more easily reach her
from Lesketh How and Fox How.
During the period of the Crimean War she felt most keenly
both for the country and individual friends. She had taken a
most active part in promoting the association of ladies at
Grasmere the preceding winter in aid of the comforts to be
sent to the wounded men ; and she was able, by her abounding
sympathy, to cheer the anxiety of the young wife of a most
deserving soldier, who had come to spend the time of her
husband's absence in the Crimea with her father at Grasraere.
The husband of this person was then a sergeant, and he distin-
guished himself so much by conduct and bravery that an officer's
commission was offered to him, and a request at the same time
from the officers of his regiment that he should remain in it.
His grateful wife has often told me since that she does not
know how she could have got through that time but for the
" dear old lady at Lancrigg." She took all her husband's letters
to read to her, and they cried over them together, and much
was explained to her about the war. I fear I always felt in
this war, as in most others, like old Kaspar that " what they
killed each other for I never could make out." I saw my
mother settled at Springfield Lodge, a good house, nearly
opposite the gate at Lesketh How. Before I returned to
Haslar her favourite friend Miss MacNab came to spend the
winter with her there.]
Springfield Lodge, 10th January 1855. I have much
reason to rejoice at having come to live so near Lesketh
How. Springfield has agreed with me in all respects, and
I have been cheered within the last ten days by letters
telling me of Archibald's appointment to the command of
a gunboat in the Black Sea. May he be preserved in the
day of battle, and may he be enabled to do his duty, and,
if occasion serve, to distinguish himself in his country's
service.
314 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
I never in my long life remember anything like the
national gloom and almost despondency, increased by the
accounts of the miserable condition of our brave troops in
the Crimea.
[Part of letter from Mrs. Fletcher to lier daughter Mary.
" SPRINGFIELD, January 10th, 1855.
" I sit down boiling with indignation against the inhabi-
tants of Portsmouth and its vicinity, for not giving a more
fitting reception to the maimed and mutilated men who came
home iu the Himalaya.
" I have just been reading that article in the Evening Mail,
describing the shameful neglect these brave men experienced ;
and beg you will write, if possible, to contradict such a report
of national ingratitude and want of all right feeling, not only
in officials but in the whole mass of the people, who ought to
have poured out and vied with each other in proving their
sense of the strong claim these brave men had upon their
sympathy. I can imagine, though I cannot forgive, the miser-
able jealousy and little formalities which would prevent
naval officials from taking any active part in disembarking
military men, otherwise we know dear Sir John would have
been foremost to help them, and I wonder you, dearest Mary,
were not there ; I am sure your old mother would have gone
down to the jetty, in defiance of all military etiquette, to hail
these poor fellows."
Sir John Richardson 1 s reply to Mrs. Fletcher.
"January 12th, 1855.
" I read with much interest your sound and hearty burst of
indignation on reading the Times account of the landing of
the invalids from the Himalaya. There is more on the same
subject in the papers of to-day, and, indeed, such occurrences
are, I fear, almost inseparable from war, and from the peculiar
organisation of our boasted civilisation. Boards and bodies
are constituted for particular duties, and everything would be
deranged, and matters rendered much worse, if their action
were interfered with by bystanders.
LETTERS. 315
" I did not hear of it till this morning, and having occasion
to be in the dockyard to-day, I inquired about the cause of
delay, and learned that the officers of the Himalaya, being of
the merchant service, had not sent notice of the ship coming
into harbour to the Governor of the garrison, from whose office
the orders for the landing and directions for fatigue-parties
would have issued. Pending the arrival of these the tide was
falling, and the draught of water of the Himalaya being very
great, her officers were desirous of drawing off from the jetty
into deeper water, and therefore hurried the sick on shore
with their baggage, which had to be inspected by the Custom-
house authorities.
" The greater part of the Himalayas passengers were women
and children, and the helplessness of the class that accompany
the army would scarcely be believed were it not witnessed ;
cleanliness and order are out of the question, and I can well
believe that the deck was filthy beyond description. A mer-
chant seaman, improperly sent on shore in a helpless condition,
was hawked about the streets until he found an asylum in the
workhouse, where he died next morning. To-day a much
larger body of invalids were on board the Avon, alongside the
wharf. There was no want of proper officers to attend to
them, but they were kept judiciously on board until everything
was ready, the ship clean within, and the invalids cheerful and
content with their treatment. The more helpless had their
dinners on board, and were taken to the Army Hospital in
omnibuses, cabs, and bearers ; while the greater number were
directed to sleep on board, and to go next morning to Chatham.
The Sampson has also brought invalids, and I suppose that
now we shall have a continual influx, till between twenty and
thirty thousand of our grand army come home disabled by
sickness or wounds."
Mrs. Fletcher to her daughter Mary,
" SPRINGFIELD, February Qth, 1855.
" I was in hopes your last letter, received yesterday, would
have brought the decision of the Admiralty respecting Sir John's
appointment. I admire his and your composure about it, and
316 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
I am astonished at my own ; for, without feeling less interest
in all that relates to his and your health and happiness, I feel
less occupied about the improved position this office would
afford you than I should have done some years since. I dare
not hope that this proceeds from my being less worldly-minded,
but I think extreme age has blunted the keenness of my per-
ceptions and desires.
" The late providential event, which surely must paralyse the
whole Russian Empire, while it gives light and hope to the
rest of the world, I hope and pray may be met by the Allies
in a right spirit I mean in a Christian spirit a moral and
chivalrous spirit. Our arch-enemy 1 has been stricken down,
not by the strength of hostile armies, not by the energy or
exertion of political combinations, but by the hand of God
Himself ; and we should not presume on this manifestation of
justice and mercy by proudly demanding more stringent terms
of peace now than we should have demanded of the author of
our national calamities. We should show our sense of this
providential interposition by our moderation and sense of
justice, not by proud defiance, or by any act that can prolong
the unhappy contest in which we are engaged. I would fain
hope that this event may lead to an armistice, and prevent that
greatest of horrors the storming of Sebastopol."
The first part of this letter relates to the office just then
vacated by the retirement of Sir William Burnett, Head of the
Medical Department of the Naval service. Sir John Richard-
son sent in his claims for the office ; but a junior officer was
appointed, on which my husband, feeling that he retarded the
promotion of those under him at Haslar Hospital, retired from
his active public service, and henceforth made Lancrigg his
home. The first summer after his retirement we spent in
Scotland, chiefly in the beautiful neighbourhood of Achray and
the Trossachs, and joined my mother in the beginning of
winter, 1855-56, at Lancrigg.
1 The Czar Nicholas.
LETTERS. 317
To her daughter Mary.
" SPRINGFIELD, March 2lst, 1855.
" I can but write you a line this morning, for you know
better than I can tell you how much real sympathy I feel for
Sir John and you on this sad occasion, knowing as I do that
in the natural grief you both experience in the loss of so very
dear an object of tender love, you will bless God for his deliver-
ance from a life of so much suffering, and in the unspeakable
blessedness he is now enjoying, ' In my Father's house are
many mansions/ His spirit was well fitted to inhabit that
nearest to his Saviour, for I think it was the most loving little
heart I have ever known.
"This I imagine will be the funeral day. Thank dear
Josephine for her note, received yesterday ; it was very sweet
and touching. Could not Sir John ask leave to come down
with you, if it were but for a week 1 I think the change
might do him good. I know his entire submission to the will
of God, and that you will not leave him till you can do it con-
sistently with your duty. I am well cared for from Lesketh
How, but I never more ardently wished to see you. I hope
dear Mrs. Kendal will be with you all this sad day. I liked
to hear of the primroses coming from the Isle of Wight, from
dear Miss Stott, and his father placing them round the little
still pale face. May God support and bless you all.
" E. F."]
IStli March 1855. Since my last entry in this journal
I have entered on my eighty-sixth year, and have most
abundant cause of thankfulness for the many blessings that
attend this long pilgrimage for health of body and mind,
and for the most affectionate and tender care I experience
from those near and those absent.
Pubb'c affairs continue gloomy, and I never remember a
time of such painful excitement. Our soldiers and sailors
are men of indomitable courage, but we seem to want a
Wellington and a Nelson. The compassionate and generous
feeling of the country towards the sufferers is beautiful, and
313 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the self-devotion of Miss Nightingale and her associates is
above all praise, and marks an epoch in the history of our
beloved country. Towards our Lady the Queen I have a
feeling of profound loyalty ; she is both the Queen and
the friend of her suffering people.
April llth. To-morrow I expect my Mary. She has
suffered much since I parted from her in the illness and
death of her darling little Edward, whom she had adopted
with a true mother's fondness.
[I joined my dear mother at Springfield at the time she
expected me, and, while Lancrigg was preparing for us, re-
mained with her there. Mrs. Davy records in her Note-book
at this time the following impression of her good looks and
spirits before they set off on a little foreign tour on the 2oth
of April of this spring :
From Mrs. Davy's Note-book.
11 We all ran down to Springfield to have the last words and
kisses from dearest Gran. ; but so active was her love and
sympathy with our outset, that just as we were getting into
the carriage, at 12 o'clock, April 25th, she, with aunt Mary,
appeared before our door. It was a sweet, genial morning, but
Gran.'s face looked more sweet and genial still."
To her daughter Mary, in the Highlands.
" LANCRIGG, 1855.
" I had a great treat on Saturday morning, for half an hour.
Our dear Mrs. Arnold brought Arthur Stanley to see me. It
does one's heart good to see a man devoting all his powers to
his Master's service. He is so animated, so agreeable, so un-
spoiled by his high reputation, so child-like in simplicity, and
so vigorous in his conceptions, and candid in his constructions.
We had only a few words about Lord John Russell as he was
getting into the car. He said ' it was too wide a field to enter
upon, that Lord John had committed some mistakes ; but I
believe,' he said, ' that you and I shall live to see him again
LAST MOXTH OF HOUSEKEEPIXG. 319
Prime Minister at the desire of the people.' The car drove off,
leaving me this drop of comfort.
"September 1855."
Lancrigg, 18th September 1855. In May it pleased
God to bring me through a severe attack of bronchitis,
and I am thankful to say I have been in better health since
than I was before my illness. The tender attentions I
received from all my children made me feel that I had not
lived too long.
I made few new acquaintances this summer, but was
cheered by the visits of our dear old friend, James Wilson.
There is something inexpressibly reviving in the company
of one who recalls former happy reminiscences.
October 29th, 1855. This is my last month of house-
keeping. I never liked the details of that vocation, and
hence I always enjoyed the freedom and ease of living at
an inn. Henceforward Mary's inn at Lancrigg will be my
headquarters. Goodness and mercy have followed me all
the days of my life. Pray God I may never lose the bless-
ing of a thankful spirit, and that all my children, when
they lay me in "our grave," 1 may be thankful that I end
my long pilgrimage in peace among them. I trust in the
mercy of God that, through the merits of Christ, He will
take me to his everlasting kingdom of righteousness when
I can no longer be useful or satisfactory to those who love
me best on earth.
January 2d, 1856. It has pleased Almighty God to
permit me to live to see another year, and to bless me
with more health and contentment of mind than I have
experienced for several years past.
March 14th. Public affairs look most promising in the
prospect of peace. How true is that sentence in one of
1 We chose the spot together, and she always called it " our grave."
320 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the beautiful Collects of our Church's ritual, " The hearts
of Kings are in thy rule and governance." The fate of
nations is determined by that will which can alone bring
good out of evil.
I am rejoicing in George's appointment at Chittagong
as a proof of his deserts, and cheered by Sir E. Lyons'
excellent report of Archibald's professional character.
August 2d, 1856. The deep interest I have taken in
Lord Cockburn's " Memorials " has been a new era in my
existence. This delightful book has refreshed my spirit,
improved my health, and, I verily believe, will continue to
cheer and lengthen my life.
August 1 6th. Our domestic sorrows have been increased
by the increasing sufferings of poor Josephine. She affords
a remarkable example of patience, employing every waking
hour of the day, and even sometimes at midnight, in read-
ing, using her needle, or knitting. She is always cheerful;
and once, when I ventured to express sympathy in her
sufferings, she gently rebuked me, and, with a placid smile,
said, " Yes, but you know whom the Lord loveth He chas-
teneth." Sir John's great sorrow on her account is sup-
ported with manly as well as with Christian resignation.
He sits in a room adjoining that which she occupies, and
through the open door he can see and hear her while he
employs himself in writing a scientific article of consider-
able research in natural history. He gets books from the
British Museum. My dearest Mary neglects no part of
her duties to me and the sick-room, and is mercifully sup-
ported under her great trials.
[To Mrs. Arnold.
"October 10th, 1856.
" I cannot tell you how much we all enjoyed the pleasure
Mr. Stanley's visit gave us yesterday; I only regretted dear
DEATH OF JOSEPHINE RICHARDSON. 321
Mary was not here to share it with us. We accompanied him in
his most interesting Scottish tour, from the venerable site of St.
Andrews and the historical records of the old Covenanters to
the romantic haunts of Burns and the grave of Helen Walker. 1
" Then his exceeding admiration of Edinburgh, tracing its
real resemblance in national features to the Athens of ancient
Greece; his liberal view of the Scottish Church and Church-
men ; and above all, his estimation of the intelligence of the
Scottish peasantry. All this, given with his own peculiar
earnestness and simplicity of manner, made us exclaim, when
the door closed upon him, 'Well, there is but one Arthur
Stanley in the world.'
" I think much of you, my dear friend, and rejoice that you
will have all your daughters with you to-day."]
October 20th, 1856. It was judged best for me to go
to Lesketh How as poor Josephine's last days drew near ;
so in the beginning of September, after Dr. and Mrs. Davy
had set off on their Highland tour, Mrs. Taylor and I
went to stay with the dear girls. Josephine died without
a struggle on the evening of the 8th September, and a more
pure, patient, uncomplaining spirit never went to its ever-
lasting home.
[Parts of one or two of my mother's letters to a correspond-
ent in Edinburgh she much valued, of a younger generation,
are inserted here, on a subject near her heart :
Mrs. Fletcher to Montgomery Bell, Usq.
" June 5th, 1856.
' MY DEAR MR. BELL, Your kind letter, received this
morning, has anticipated my intention of writing to tell you
how exceedingly I and all my family have been delighted with
Lord Coekbum's ' Memorials.' On seeing the book adver-
tised, I wrote to Messrs. Black to send me a copy the moment
it was out, and it arrived a few days ago. I don't know when
1 Jeanie Deans.
X
322 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
I have been so much refreshed and exhilarated as in reading
it. The passage you transcribe was particularly gratifying to
me ; it is so true and so characteristic of him whom it describes.
Lord Cockburn is, indeed, most happy in the truth of his por-
traits. He might have dwelt more fully on the hardships
and difficulties that beset the few Whig members of the Bar
between the years 1791 and 1800. ... It is a delightful
book ; and since there is no other literary monument of Lord
Cockburn's great ability and integrity, these ' Memorials '
will attest them."
To the Same.
1856.
" The more I reflect on the great public good the late Lord
Cockburn did in bis lifetime, and the great value of ' Memorials
of His Time,' lately published, the more strongly I am con-
vinced of the debt due by his countrymen to his memory.
Now, I do not know whether any monument has been or is
likely to be erected to his memory in Edinburgh ; if not, it
occurs to me that with the approbation of his family, it would
be well for the friends of Reform to raise such a sum, by sub-
scription, as would afford an annual prize of a gold medal to
such a scholar of the New Academy (the Institution which
originated with Lord Cockburn) as should write the best Essay
on Constitutional Freedom, or other historical subjects, and be
most approved by the Directors of the Academy, and that such
a prize should be called the Cockburn Medal. This idea has
haunted me ever since I read the ' Memorials.'
" Your views of the public results of this war delight me
exceedingly the moral and religious amelioration and social
improvement that may arise out of it. God grant your hopes
may be prophetic ; I ain a willing disciple of your hopeful
school ; to despair of a just cause is to deny a wise and good
Providence. I do not envy those who can read of our good
Queen reviewing her noble fleet with dry eyes ; it is good for
her children to have heard the cheers of her gallant men at
Spithead."
Lancrigg, 15th January 1857. It has pleased our most
ILLNESS OF ELIZABETH DA VY. 323
gracious God to permit me to enter on this eighty-eighth
year of my long life in better health, and more freedom
from infirmity in mind and body, than is usual at so ad-
vanced an age. I have no doubt my life has been pro-
longed, as I am sure my happiness has been greatly pro-
moted, by the family arrangements that have been made,
in my freedom from household cares.
March 12th. I have passed nearly three months of this
new year in surprising health and happiness, feeling the in-
firmities of my very advanced age, but feeling in a still
greater measure the mercy of God in preserving to me my
faculties of mental enjoyment in no common degree ; feeble-
ness of limbs, and some degree of deafness, remind me of
old age, but my heart is I think as young as ever.
April 24th, 1857. Since my last entry in this Journal
I have experienced the greatest anxiety on account of the
alarming illness of my dear grandchild, Elizabeth Davy.
I had presumptuously hoped that none of those I tenderly
love might be called to suffer deeply before I am to be
called hence ; but our merciful Father has seen fit to give
me another trial of faith and patience.
May 24th, 1857. We saw dear Lizzie the day after her
parents and Grace brought her home ; so sadly changed
was her appearance that I should scarcely have known her.
She did not keep her bed entirely for more than a week,
but symptoms of rapid consumption appeared, and her
strength sank rapidly. There was a great increase of
gentleness, lowliness of mind, and great consideration for
others : nothing could exceed her humility. Deeply as I
felt the loss, and dearly as I loved the sufferer, when I lost
all hope of her recovery I was thankful for her release.
Lord, let us not forget all Thy mercies, while we endeavour
to bow to Thy chastisements.
October 6th, 1857. After two months I resume my
324 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Journal. On he 7th August, Sir John, Mary, and -Beatrice,
set off for Ireland, paying some pleasant visits in Yorkshire
on the way. Sir John attended the meeting of the British
Association, where he met many of his scientific friends, and
received an honorary degree from Trinity College, Dublin.
Mary was unwilling to go on my account, but I insisted on
her doing so, and they have all much enjoyed their tour
and cheered me by their letters. The miserable state of
India weighs me down, and dwells upon my mind with
fearful terror. I feel a sad want of faith and hope on that
subject, and pray God to give me that " peace which passeth
understanding."
[This was the last entry in her Journal, but I had many
letters from her on our tour, expressing the warm interest she
felt in all we heard and saw, especially in the Reformatory for
boys established by her new neighbour and much-esteemed
friend, Mr. Wheatley Balme, at whose Yorkshire home we paid
a short visit. We also visited Mr. Brooke and Miss Laycock,
near Huddersfield, and saw the distribution of prizes to the
young mechanics, given by Lord Granville with an encour-
aging address.
From Mrs. Fletcher to her daughter Mary.
"August 1857.
" I have just read your yesterday's letter, not without tears
at your account of the distribution of prizes, especially of that
pale-faced young mechanic who had written the best essay on
English literature. That lad, if he lives, will henceforth dis-
tinguish himself. Do get his name and present occupation.
Those shouts of sympathetic feeling will never be forgotten by
those who gained the prizes, and will be strong incentives to
those who strive to gain them in future."
LAST LETTER TO MRS. STARK. 325
*
Mrs. Fletcher to Mrs. Stark.
"LAXCRIGG, October llth, 1857.
" MY DEAE FKIEXD, Many thanks to you for remember-
ing me amidst your many anxieties and tender sympathies for
suffering friends. I feel for them and you most deeply. I
see many well-informed people take a less gloomy view of
Indian affairs than I do. My only comfort is in the belief
that a ' righteous God loveth righteousness,' and that He has
power to briug good out of evil. Never was there such a trial
of faith and hope as this sad state of India.
My own bodily health is good, and I pray against de-
spondency ; for in my eighty-eighth year I can make little effort.
You would not know me, I am so changed in mind and tem-
perament. You will pray for me. All the circumstances of my
home are the happiest possible, and I am very grateful for it."
When we returned to Lancrigg, the end of September, we
were received with even more than my mother's usual warmth
and thankfulness of affection. The weather was very fine, and
she sat with me and others a good deal in the open air, and
took a lively interest in hearing of the different people we had
seen, especially her old friend Mr. Craig and his daughter Sarah,
in Tipperary, Dr. Livingstone, then about to return to his great
mission in Africa, Lady Parry, whom we had seen in Wicklow,
and many others. I had not, however, been long or much
alone with my mother before I became aware that the hope-
ful buoyancy of her spirit was affected in a way I had
never before seen it. The excellent maid who always slept in
her room told me that she had observed a change in her a few
days before our return from Ireland. At the age of eighty-
seven it should not have excited any surprise, as the very in-
tensity of her feelings made it more remarkable that the spring
of hopefulness had lasted so long, than that it should now in
some degree faiL The variety of private sorrows and public
troubles, in which she had taken so deep an interest, during
the last years of her life, doubtless did contribute to the end
which was approaching. We could not but feel "that the
silver cord of her existence was loosed, that the golden
326 A UTOBIO GRAPHY.
bowl was broken," although we never lost the hope of her
revival until the middle of January. After that her bodily weak-
ness increased ; she kept chiefly in bed, and died from the
exhaustion of nature, without any bodily pain, and in a gentle
sleep, on the morning of the 5th of February 1858.
The following note from our kind friend, the Rev. R. P.
Graves, expresses truly what we desired fervently to feel at
the time "That it was well :"
"DovE NEST, WINPERMERE, February 5th, 1858.
" MY DEAR LADY RICHARDSON, I have just heard that God
has taken to Himself your dear, good, noble mother. ' It is
well,' and we must all feel thankful to Him that her decline
was not longer protracted. Her own rest is come ; and yet
we need not think of her as gone from us, for I am sure she will
still live in our hearts, and her example, looked back upon,
continue to animate our lives. I cannot therefore speak as a
mourner, though feeling deeply all she has been to the many
circles which looked to her as to a centre ; and I earnestly trust
that those nearest to her, and to whom she was most precious,
will be enabled to give her back to God with thankfulness far
exceeding their sorrow. I shall be very desirous to hear that
you and dear Mrs. Davy have not suffered in health by the
trial you have been going through. R. P. GRAVES."]
CONCLUDING CHAPTER
AT the time of my mother's death, now seventeen years
ago, one who had known her only during the latter years
of her life, wrote thus to a mutual friend concerning her
approaching death : " I am very sorry to hear nothing
more hopeful from Lancrigg ; but the balance is not all oil
the mournful side. A mission so fulfilled, and such a
mission, is not a common thing. Merely to have seen her
must have kept many people from doing much mischief, if
it has not led them to do some little bit of good ' Life is
real, life is earnest,' was so plainly and attractively preached
by her look alone."
If such was the impression of a thoughtful observer, who
had only known her slightly, and if it be responded to by
all who came nearer to her, and most of all by those to
whom life lost most of its sunshine when she left it, it
seems at once due to her memory and the cause of goodness
to endeavour to bring together the records of a social in-
fluence so extensive and so penetrating as hers.
The reminiscences written by herself were begun, at my
request, when she was nearly seventy, and give a vivid
picture of her simple childhood and youth, the events of
which stood out in her recollection as a green vista of
summer days, spent among the fields and flowers of a small
unknown hamlet in the plain of York. She continued to
note down at intervals her joys and her sorrows until
328 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
nearly the close of her life ; but after her marriage her life
became one so full of public and private interests, and her
sphere of usefulness was so extended, that her remini-
scences, although full of the impress of her faith, love, and
hope, fail, perhaps, in giving so distinct an impression
of her whole character as may be gathered from some
of her letters written at the time to those who shared
her thoughts and feelings on passing events of interest
and affection.
It was the earnest desire of my dear sister, Mrs. Davy,
ae well as my own, that these Memorials of our mother
should be printed for her descendants ; and my sister
undertook to select some letters, and to add her own re-
collections, which went back five years earlier than mine
relating to the Edinburgh period. This my sister was able
to do before her illness and death, which occurred in 1869.
Since then a succession of family sorrows have made me
delay the preparation of these Memorials for the press ;
but now that my own day is far spent, I am desirous to
accomplish the work before I go hence, feeling sure that I
can in no other way leave so precious a legacy to her great-
grandchildren as the example her noble, truthful, loving, and
consistent life sets before them. Hers cannot perhaps be
considered a religious autobiography in the ordinary sense
of that term, but it is because we believe that hers was in
very truth a life devoted to God's service and her neigh-
bours' good, that we desire to have a record of it left in
print for her descendants.
My mother's view of the social duties of a Christian led
her to the conviction that exclusiveness was a defect rather
than a merit, and although she had many intimate friends
among those who held different opinions on these points, it
was a striking proof of the consistency with which she was
able to carry out her principle of living above the common-
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 329
place estimate of social life in England, while mixing freely
in it, that I believe no one ever suspected her of what is
called worldliness in her intercourse with society. She so
little suspected this in others that it ceased to exist in her
presence. She called out the reality of those she conversed
with by the intuitive sympathy she felt and expressed for
what was real, beautiful, and true, and by her no less
strongly expressed scorn for what was base, frivolous, and
sordid. She had not by nature what is often mistaken by
the other sex for sweetness of temper, the clinging, yielding
temperament which submits patiently to injustice and
neglect ; and had she been united to one less affectionate,
and less high-toned than herself, she might have been
supremely miserable, but her wealth of "saving common
sense " prevented her " miscellaneous impulses " from lead-
ing her astray. She could not have attached herself
strongly to any one who had not the great qualities she
most valued, earnestness of purpose and singleness of
heart. She was loved by men and women as few so beau-
tiful have been ; for if it be true that beauty in their own
sex excites the envy of women rather than their affection,
it was one of her felicities to form an exception to this
axiom. The affection of good women formed a great part
of the happiness of her life, and she scattered flowers and
interests over the paths of many who, from temperament
or circumstances, might not have enjoyed some of the
pleasures she was enabled to bring within their reach.
The secret of my mother's influence was well expressed
by her early friend, Dr. Kilvington, of Eipon, as she her-
self records it, and it may be called the key-note of her
whole life. He says in one of his letters to her at the age
of seventeen, " I have never known any one so tenderly
and truly and universally beloved as you are, and I believe
it arises from your capacity of loving." As this loving heart
330 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
was God's special gift to her, so she gave her heart to Him
in as large a measure as can be said of any human being.
She lived in the habitual fear and love of God, fear of
offending Him, and joy in loving Him. Her fear of offend-
ing God was shown in the unmurmuring submission with
which she bore great sorrows, and her joy in loving her
Father in Heaven, by the overflowing gratitude with
which she expressed her sense of His daily mercies. Of
her it might be said with truth, " She rejoiced to see a
Divine will moving in all things, and so it came to pass
that her common thoughts were piety, and her life grati-
tude."
The bright sunshine of winter or summer, good tidings
either of a public or private nature, called out these fervent
ejaculations of thankfulness to " God the Giver of all good
things." If tidings of a melancholy nature reached her,
her first impulse was to alleviate, if possible, the present
suffering, and then to find out all the points of comfort
in the case before her. It would be difficult to select
any special instances of this thankfulness of heart ; it
seemed so much a part of herself that, when it ceased, she
died.
She had been an early riser from her childhood, and
continued to be so until nearly eighty ; and so wide and
varied were her interests, that every day seemed to bring
its work along with it, so that life never lost its practical
or its poetical aspect where she was. After she ceased to
join the family breakfast-table, the activity of the mind
continued in full force from the early hour at which she
awoke until ten at night. She occupied herself for hours
before others in the house were astir, in reading or writing,
or devising liberal things for the good or enjoyment of
others. Perhaps one of the most vivid recollections that
we have of her, in her latter years, is her appearance iu
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 331
bed before breakfast on a fine spring or summer morning,
her face still radiant from the morning reading of her
favourite Psalms. The tones in which she would repeat,
after the morning kiss, " Bless the Lord, my soul, and
forget not all His benefits," the bright, healthy complexion,
so unlike that of age in general, the mingled look of purity
and intellect her eye expressed as she looked into the eyes
of those she loved for the sympathy which, thank God, she
never failed to receive, and then the thoughts and feelings
of the night, the sad ones disappearing in the utterance of
them and the hopeful ones taking their place, with her
plans for the day, which always included some attention to
the wants and feelings of others, rich or poor, this pic-
ture rises to the memory, as the habitual state during
an old age which was as free as her whole life had been
from bodily or mental infirmity, and which continued
to be her frame of mind until five months before her
death.
The minute and affectionate interest she took in her
poorer neighbours was a very marked feature in her char-
acter, very early formed, and continued through her busy
life to the end. If she had adopted the mother of a family
as a friend, this interest, from sympathy with her, was
carried out towards every member of the household, chil-
dren and grandchildren ; and if any of them were settled
at a distance, either in England, Scotland, or Ireland, New
Zealand or Australia, India or America, she found she had
some friend there, to whom she could recommend them, or
from whom she could learn some tidings of them to cheer
the mother's or the granny's heart. In talking about them,
she rarely made a mistake about their names. Several
have mentioned this to me with surprise and pleasure, that
their "Willys, and Johnnys, and Marys were so distinctly
remembered by her in her great age.
332 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
The impression she made on servants who were capable
of understanding her character was also a striking point in
her social influence ; many of them have since told me
that although she was a faithful reprover of their faults,
and not what could be called an unexacting mistress, that
scarcely a day passes since they left her service that they
do not think of her with gratitude, and feel proud to have
been in the same house with her so long. The feeling so
common with servants of having a separate code of morals
for themselves and their masters, was one she exceedingly
disliked ; she endeavoured to make them feel that she
loved them as children of a common Master, and earnestly
desired to raise them to her standard of feeling and action ;
and where she was understood by her domestics, the im-
pression she made on them was as permanent as on every
other class of persons she associated with.
None are now left who remember my mother in her
early married life, but I have received some recollections of
her from two members of the same family Mr. Bannatyne,
of Glasgow, and his sister, Mrs. Stark, one of her most
valued friends and correspondents for fifty years. Mrs.
Stark's reminiscences were sent to me soon after my
mother's death, and Mr. Bannatyne's were copied from
his Note-book and sent to me after his death by his
widow.
Mrs. Stark says : " You will feel, I am sure, everything
that remains to you of your dearest mother so strongly
and vividly impressed that when your sister and you are
together you will call up the remembrance, as if you saw
it in a stereoscope, and little things will float before you
hardly noted at the time. There was always a purpose
and a character in everything she said and did. From the
time I first knew her, her kindness and condescension (I
was going to say to me, but she would not have liked that
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 333
word) engaged and charmed me, and, as her -whole noble
nature unfolded to me, won my whole heart.
" "We had heard of Mrs. Fletcher before, but I think it
must have been about 1803 when your father and she came
to spend an evening with us at my uncle Dugald Stewart's,
where I was on a visit with my parents. Our father and
yours were friends before. How well I remember her
and all the conversation of that supper-table, the very place
she sat, with her blue gown and brilliant look. I had not
been much in company, but we, my dear father and mother
and I, were all to go to a ball at Miss Coates's, where we
should see Mrs. Fletcher again. To see her seemed to me
enough. Henry Brougham was there, and Robert Owen,
and many other notabilities. I watched every one who
had the happiness to be near her, and particularly when
her face was lighted up in conversation with my father or
mother ; but she spoke to me so kindly, and told me to
come and see her when I went to Edinburgh ; and so I did ;
and from that day, ever, ever on, she drew me to love and
admire her more and more.
" Soon after I went to my Edinburgh home she gave it
her blessing, and your father and she used to be our in-
mates at the cottage at Kirkhill."
From Mr. Bannatyne's Note-book.
" GLASGOW, list February 1858.
" Mrs. Fletcher is dead, at a very advanced age. I trust
some day justice will be done in some of the autobiographies of
distinguished men, probably in Brougham's, to this very re-
markable woman. Throughout life I have never known a
purer, a more elevated, a more amiable spirit. Her beautiful
countenance and majestic air were combined with the most
attractive kindliness. Her full and commanding voice and
faultless speech live, like every other distinguishing feature, in
334 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
the memory of all who were privileged to know her, and most
of all in the memory of those who were permitted to call her
a friend ; and these were not few, for never was there a mind
better attuned, not only to general benevolence, but to warm
persona] attachments. She busied herself through life in pro-
moting liberty and truth and holiness. Her enthusiasm in
favour of the rights of man, at a period when this country was
threatened with despotic rule by an oligarchy, raised up many
violent and bitter opponents ; but I doubt whether she ever
had an enemy. Her disinterestedness and candour disarmed
those who might otherwise, in times of the greatest excite-
ment, have yielded themselves up to personal hostility, even
against a woman. It was my happiness, as a boy, to have had
the opportunity of intimately knowing Mrs. Fletcher."
It was early in this century that she became intimate
with Henry Brougham, during the period he passed in
Edinburgh, before he left the Scotch Bar. They seldom
met in after years, but he never ceased to make her feel
that she retained that place in his respect and friendship
which his young imagination had assigned her.
In Lord Brougham's introduction to his own speech on
Burgh Eeform in Scotland, when he notices with high praise
my father's exertions in that cause, he takes occasion to pay
a tribute to my mother. He compares her to two women
of most heroic and tender natures Madame Roland and
Lucy Hutchinson ; and if we add to them Lady Grizzel
Baillie (her own favourite heroine), we have, as nearly as
possible, the combination of qualities which made up her
moral and intellectual nature in the estimation of those
who knew her best.
I remember, when on a visit to Mrs. Brougham in 1832,
my mother's expressing her fervent sympathy with the
mother of such a man, one who had so largely benefited his
country, and had at the same time been so affectionate a
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 335
son and brother, and she added " I fear, my dear friend,
my head could not have stood such a trial of happiness as
yours has done ; " while the mother of Brougham, with her
quiet smile and look of grand simplicity, replied " I must
say Henry never forgets his old mother."
Mrs. Brougham told us also on this visit to Brougham
Hall that the time she felt most elated, and had fears for
her own head, was when her son Henry was returned
Member for Yorkshire, without possessing an acre of ground
in the county. She took us to see the picture presented to
her on that occasion of Henry Brougham by the freeholders
of Yorkshire. I remember she told me then, when we were
alone, that her son always considered that my mother's
friendship had been of great use to him as a young man,
that her entire absence of personal vanity astonished him,
and that she never failed to rouse him to noble aims for
the honour and good of his country.
This testimony from his venerable mother, who was
truth itself, gives additional interest to the last letter he
wrote to mine, on hearing from Mrs. Arnold, at Kendal, of
his old friend's serious illness. I cannot resist inserting it
in this closing chapter, as there is a gentle and tender tone
about it, which is pleasant to associate with one who filled
so prominent a place in England's Parliamentary history
during fifty years of this century.
From Lord Brougham.
" MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, It gave me great pleasure indeed
to see Mrs. Arnold and her daughter here, from the respect I,
in common with all, had for Dr. Arnold ; but it was no little
abatement of this gratification to hear from her of your having
been ailing. I hope and trust that you are getting round, and I
shall be most truly obliged to you if you will desire some one to
give me a few lines directed to London, where (D.V.) I hope to
336 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
arrive this evening, merely to let me know how you are. The
pleasure I have in seeing once more my old Kendal friends
(alas ! I may say those of them who remain) has been greatly
increased by finding them so right and so zealous in their
opinions upon the new attempts to revive the infernal slave-
trade under a new name. What I stated last July in the
House of Lords on this subject proves to have been rather
under than over the truth, and I well know that of the many
subjects connected with human rights and duties on which you
and I have always agreed (indeed, I know of none on which we
ever differed), there has been none nearer to your heart than
this. Ever your affectionate H. BEOUGHAM.
Tuesday, Xov. 11, 1S57."
The Impressions made on a Granddaughter as a Child,
" The concern she showed if any of her grandchildren
failed in due deference to her never had a shadow of :
exactingness, but was always plainly for themselves, as being
a defect of character where she would fain have seen nothing
but good. If she ever fancied there had been the least trace
of personal vexation in the most deserved reproof, she would
before long ask a little girl's pardon as for undue vehemence,
to the delighted wonder of the rest and the utter melting of
the culprit herself.
"Her sympathy with the young in all their joys had the
rare quality of not requiring that the joy should be one
she herself would have chosen, her imagination always
helping her heart to enter into the needs of widely differing
characters. Her intuitive wisdom also kept her from
expecting exact agreement with even her most cherished
forms of opinion, content if she saw any kindling of enthu-
siasm for what was unquestionably good, any sign of quiet
dutifulness ; and many who in a different age and among
other surroundings may have been led to varying conclusions
must yet feel how much of any love of goodness and hatred
of evil there may be in them was kindled and fostered
by her. How much of the delight in books, and Nature,
and human life, came to them through the touch of her
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 337
inspiring ardour ! Her very look and tone, amidst the
simplest country pleasures, could teach (unconsciously at
the time) high lessons of love and thankfulness, so that
an afternoon's nutting by the stream, an evening's stroll
through the meadows when the bog-bean was in its prime,
a drive home from some loving family gathering, can all be
remembered after nearly forty years, far more surely than
the mere charm of the outward pictures. Lasting, too, ought
to have been the impressions, on the one hand, of honest
indignation, and, on the other, of the dignity of the true
simplicities of life, of unselfish frugalities, and most un-
pretending and thoughtful charities points in which the
stately ' matriarch,' eloquent on some theme of politics, or
poetry, or philanthropy, still kept the heart of the little
Oxton child.
" One of the ways in which she tried to cherish and direct
little children's natural delight in giving was by making the
power and the permission to bestow alms a much-coveted
reward. The impression as of a beneficent being she made
even on the youngest, and when she herself was a very
young grandmother, is well shown by the recorded words
of a tiny brother and sister, who, after giving the history
of a happy holiday by the sea, wound up with ' Then we
said our prayers and went to bed, and speaked about God and
grandmamma.' "
The following extract from Margaret Fuller's book, "At
Home and Abroad," was lately sent to me by a friend. It
is a wonderfully true picture of the outward form revealing
the inner woman to an observer of genius. The mistake
made in it is quite pardonable in a foreigner, and even in
an American, that of believing my mother to be Scotch,
and, like the old ladies, admired by Burns and Scott. It
is very difficult for travellers to find out accurately the
distinctive difference between English, Scotch, and Irish
ladies of marked characters, although perfectly known
among ourselves.
338 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
From " At Home and Abroad" ly Margaret Fuller, OssolL
" AMBLESIDE, Aug. 27, 1846.
" We also met a fine specimen of the noble, intelligent Scotch-
woman, such as Walter Scott and Burns knew how to prize.
Seventy-six years have passed over her head, only to prove in
her the truth of my theory, that we need never grow old. She
was ' brought up ' in the animated and intellectual circle of
Edinburgh, in youth an apt disciple, in her prime a bright
ornament of that society. She had been an only child, a
cherished wife, an adored mother, unspoiled by love in any of
these relations, because that love was founded on knowledge.
In childhood she had warmly sympathized in the spirit that
animated the American Revolution, and Washington had been
her hero : later, the interest of her husband in every struggle for
freedom had cherished her own. She had known in the course
of her long life many eminent men, and sympathized now in
the triumph of the people over the Corn Laws, as she had in
the American victories, with as much ardour as when a girl,
though with a wiser mind. Her eye was full of light, her
manner and gesture of dignity ; her voice rich, sonorous, and
finely modulated ; her tide of talk marked by candour and
justice, showing in every sentence her ripe experience and her
noble genial nature. Dear to memory will be the sight of her
in the beautiful seclusion of her home among the mountains, a
picturesque, flower-wreathed dwelling, where affection, tran-
quillity, and wisdom were the gods of the hearth to whom
was offered no vain oblation. Grant us more such women,
Time ! Grant to men to reverence, to seek for such !"
My mother, who died at eighty-eight, had survived all
her own contemporary friends, but her affections were so
young and her sympathy " so radiant," as Mrs. Arnold used
to say, that she made many friends among the middle-aged
and young when they met in London, or when they visited
the Lakes on a summer holiday. Among those she most
valued were the Eev. Hampden Gurney, Frederick Maurice,
Alexander Scott, and especially Mr. Stanley, now Dean of
CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 339
Westminster, whom she had known when he was a Rugby
sixth-form boy. Mr. H. Gurney, writing of her to Mrs.
Arnold at the time of her death, says, " I had heard of
Mrs. Fletcher's hopeless illness, so it was a relief to hear
from you that she had reached the Land where the Sun of
Righteousness shines without a cloud. I am thankful to
have known so grand a specimen of noble womanhood." To
the same friend Mr. Stanley wrote at the time : " I had
heard of Mrs. Fletcher's death from young "William Words-
worth at Oxford. She had certainly to the very last
nourished and renewed her strength, 'mounted up with
wings as an eagle.' How much there is to be thankful
for, in every such case that one has known of a character
living on for so many years without leaving behind any
recollection of littleness, and so very much of excellence
and beauty."
To me also Mr. Stanley wrote, after a visit to Lancrigg,
from Fox How, on his return from his tour to the Holy
Land with the Prince of Wales, when I sent him a photo-
graph of my mother :
"Many thanks for the photograph, which I shall value
highly as a memorial of the character which I used to regard
as a personification beyond any other I had ever seen of
Christian Hope. Indeed, I fully entered into your feeling,
and was grateful to you for at once speaking so freely on a
grief, which is not increased but greatly lightened by being
always remembered. I went to your mother's grave in Gras-
mere Churchyard, and was much struck with the texts. It was
of her, as indeed of my own dear mother, so true, that the eye
and the ear, of any who had eyes to see or ears to hear, so
immediately received what was within."
Hope was indeed the " anchor of her soul " from youth
to age. She quoted four lines to me in one of the last
letters I had from her, when hope was beginning to give
340 CONCLUDING CHAPTER.
way but love still remained. I do not yet know who wrote
them, but they very much express her habitual state of
mind, and with them I close this book :
" For who has aught to love, and lives aright,
Will never in the darkest strait despair,
For out of love exhales a living light,
The light of love, that spends itself in prayer."
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
BY HER MOTHER.
July 15th, 1817.
MY DEAR CHILDREN, The desire of my heart is to preserve
some memorial of your beloved sister, some record or testimony
of her many rare and admirable qualities ; and this not for
her sake only, but for yours, that amidst the temptations,
sorrows, or vissicitudes of life, you may have, as it were, a sort
of sanctuary to retire into, where your anxious and troubled
spirits may repose on the contemplation of a character which
is endeared to you by many tender recollections.
Grace was born on the 23d of May 1796, and in her in-
fancy she was more remarkable for gentleness and docility of
temper than for quickness of apprehension or extraordinary
parts. I early observed, however, uncommon disinterested-
ness of character a preference of others to herself ; and this
was shown in the exultation with which she ran home from
school to tell of her sister's superior scholarship. It was
never of herself she boasted ; and though less accustomed to
attract notice than my two elder children, she never discovered
envy or jealousy on that account. Being one day much
caressed by an old lady, on my asking her why she thought
that lady had been so kind to her, she answered, with much
simplicity, " I know why, mamma : because I am clumsy and
have not a pretty face."
In the summer of 1802, my two elder children went to
Yorkshire, and Grace was the eldest of the four that remained
with me. She was then six years old, and this seniority made
her more the companion of my walks than she had hitherto
342 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER,
been, and perhaps more the object of my attention. We lived
during that summer at the village of Dalrueny, about nine
miles from Edinburgh. Grace and I began to botanize to-
gether, and I was surprised at the readiness of her apprehen-
sion and her quickness in discovering new plants and leaves.
She had great delight in this amusement. She had before
this time made little progress in reading, but she used to sit
on my knee for hours together listening to stories and recita-
tions of poetry, entreating for a repetition of them again and
again. This summer seemed to be an era in her mental
existence. I used to find her in a quiet corner, reading with
intense and passionate delight all kinds of stories and works of
fancy. Nor was her imagination merely passive ; for when at
play with the other children, she was inventive, lively, and
affectionate. When she was eight years old I engaged a
governess highly recommended to me for integrity of principle
and useful habits. This lady remained with me nearly five
years, and I found her useful in many respects ; but the stern-
ness of her temper did not suit some of my children ; and if
this part of my life were to occur again, I would act differently,
and I have often reproached myself with the tears I suffered
to be shed in the school-room. I had hitherto pursued no
system with my children but to make them happy, and
endeavour to make them good. I was their play-fellow,
their most intimate companion, but I had neither time nor
patience to be their teacher ; and as I was quite satisfied with
their teacher's integrity of purpose and usefulness of habits
and aims, I reconciled myself to her defect of temper as au
evil which my indulgence would mitigate and counteract.
Grace, more than any of the rest, was the victim of this
severity. She never complained, but after expiating her little
faults by tears and submission, consoled herself by taking
possession of a large chair in her mother's room, and there
with some favourite book (not seldom Plutarch's Lives, or
Shakespeare), she forgot her cares and sorrows, and had her
favourite passages to read to me when I came in. I could at
this moment think I see her, her countenance beaming with
delight, and coiled up in the chair waiting for my return.
In June 18 00 we all went to the Lakes. Though the
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 343
pleasures arising from beautiful scenery are not early expressed
by children, they are long remembered. This summer was
full of enjoyment. Every new walk afforded a new pleasure.
Lakes and mountains were objects of poetical association, and
Coniston and Windermere were never forgotten.
There was a little rocky bit where caves were easily imagined,
in a copse wood behind Belmont House, and there my happy
children spent hours of that real enjoyment which none but free
and cherished children know. In this cave they enacted many
adventurous histories which produced much innocent mirth.
When winter returned, the school-room in Edinburgh be-
came perhaps the more irksome from the freedom and enjoy-
ment of the preceding summer ; but in July 1807 we all went
to a new scene at Hebburn, in Northumberland, and they
again enjoyed the pleasures of the country, and Shetland
ponies, and an old border tower, where we had a school in
which they assisted, and where the governess worked with us
with hearty good-will.
Grace returned at this time, with her kind aunt Dawson, to
Yorkshire, and the correspondence with home awakened in
her, at eleven years old, an unusual amount of' sensibility and
tenderness of feeling. The sweetness of her disposition made
her much an object of affection to the friends she was with ;
and an intimate correspondence with her mother cultivated
her taste, and cherished that desire of intellectual improve-
ment which the irksome lessons of the school-room had a
tendency to repress.
After I parted with the governess a different plan was
pursued. A small class was formed among some favourite
friends of my children, and masters of real ability came to our
respective houses to give lessons, which greatly advanced the
desire for knowledge in all my daughters. Grace's decided
talent for art began to show itself, and she had instruction in
drawing from busts, from Henning the artist, before he went
to London.
The great intimacy formed about this time with the youngest
daughter of Mr. Mackenzie (" The Man of Feeling ") and some
other good and intellectual companions, were of great advan-
tage to my girls, and led them early to appreciate the blessings
344 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
of friendship with their own sex, and to discuss their innocent
desires and imaginations as only equals in age and taste can do.
In the autumn of 18101 went with my eldest daughter to
London, and during the following winter Grace and Margaret
became more than ever my companions, and, pursuing their
studies together, they made considerable progress in Latin and
Italian, while their intimacy and attachment to each other was
greatly increased by the sympathy of tastes and the mutual
enjoyment of their cheerful and happy home.
It was about this period of her life that Grace became in-
timately known to my friend, Mrs. Millar, whose opinion of
her talents and early development of thought and understand-
ing was expressed to me with all the warmth of generous
admiration. Her visits also at Milheugh to the daughters of
the celebrated Professor Millar, of Glasgow, increased her
ardour and love of knowledge, and excited her to a degree she
had never before experienced. Her letters to me from thence
were written in a strain of enthusiastic enjoyment. She used
to speak of this visit at Milheugh as the acme of her intellec-
tual existence. The extent and variety of knowledge that
was pointed out to her on subjects of taste, politics, and morals
made her feel, she said, how she had before trifled away time,
and when each day closed on these delightful speculations she
used to lie awake whole hours to revolve the great things she
hoped one day to acccomplish. The humour and fun of some
members of that Scottish sisterhood formed no small part of
the enjoyment of the visit, as well as the explorations daily
made of the lovely glens and burns in the beautiful neighbour-
hood of Bothwell and Hamilton.
From these enchanting visions and animating scenes she
was recalled home by the illness of her father, and in his sick-
room she exerted herself with all that assiduity and tenderness
could suggest. The sweetness of her attentions and the
cheerfulness of her services could not be exceeded, and I found
in her the kindest and firmest support under all my anxieties.
In the winter of 1812 we were favoured by a visit from
Miss Aikin, whose literary attainments, and whose lively,
varied, and powerful talents, furnished her with inexhaustible
sources of conversation. In these our beloved Grace shared
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER, 345
very largely. She became a peculiar object of Miss Aikin's
attention and regard. They read and conversed together, and
the desire of making more classical proficiency was the result
of her intercourse with this accomplished woman. She re-
sumed the study of Latin, and though it was sometimes in-
terrupted by more favourite pursuits, it never afterwards
ceased to engage a share of her attention.
In the summer of 1812 she accompanied her father, mother,
and youngest sister into Yorkshire, and Margaret and she
resumed their favourite pursuits together with a pleasure
heightened, if possible, by their late separation.
In the autumn of that year these sisters were present at a
York county election, and stood for several hours in the crowd
near the hustings to hear the speeches of the different candi-
dates. It might seem extraordinary that girls of fifteen and
sixteen should enjoy this species of amusement, and yet I do not
exaggerate in saying that there was not among all the audi-
tors then present one heart that beat higher to the sentiments
of genuine freedom and enlightened patriotism than that of
the person whose character I am now portraying. Grace re-
mained in Yorkshire all the following winter, cheering by the
sweetness of her engaging manners the kind old friends whose
quiet and unvaried hours formed a striking contrast with the
gaiety and animation of an Edinburgh winter. During some
weeks of this winter she had the happiness to be the guest of
Mrs. Millar (who then resided at the village of Fulford, near
York), and certainly no one out of her own family ever obtained
so strong an influence over her mind and affections. This was
in a great measure from the power of sympathy. This quality,
so engaging to the young, produced an intimacy which rarely
exists between persons of such different ages. Mrs. Millar has
much vivacity of temper and feeling, with a strong and tender
capacity of affection. Her eloquent conversation and engaging
manners, and, above all, her elevation of mind and quickness
of sensibility, gave her unbounded influence over every human
heart that was capable of comprehending her. Over that of
our beloved Grace she exercised an influence that was almost
maternal, and she repaid this homage by the most perfect
affection for her adopted child.
346 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
Grace was peculiarly alive to feelings of compassion, and it
was not with her a passive and inactive feeling. During the
winter of this year a poor American woman was taken ill
when passing through Tadcaster on her way to Hull, the
settlement of her husband, a seafaring man, who had died iu
the south of England. No sooner did our dear Grace hear of
this unhappy stranger than she visited her in one of those
haunts of wretchedness which afford a night's shelter to the
wandering poor. Ann Tucker was the poor woman's name.
She was in the last stage of consumption, and the fatigue of a
long journey on foot had brought on symptoms of premature
child-birth. Under these circumstances of severe distress the
parish officers of Tadcaster were desirous to hasten the poor
woman forward on her journey, that she might reach her
husband's settlement before her child was born. Grace was
shocked by the barbarity of their conduct ; and after expostu-
lating with them, and threatening to lay the case before the
neighbouring Justices of the Peace, she accomplished the object
she had at heart, and personally attended the removal of this
poor woman from her wretched lodging to a comfortable room
in the parish workhouse, where Ann Tucker was shortly after-
wards delivered of a male child. Grace continued to visit her
poor patient at least once every day for several weeks. She
read to her, soothed and comforted her by compassionate atten-
tions, and took her such articles of food as suited better with her
sickly palate than that which the workhouse afforded. This
young woman was gentle, pious, afi'ectionate, and grateful
(Grace could never speak of her tenderness to her child with-
out emotion) ; but she became at last so feeble and emaciated
that she grew regardless even of her child, and sank away
almost without a struggle. Henry Tucker, the infant of this
poor woman, then became an object of no ordinary interest.
Grace had promised his mother to see that he was taken care
of ; and as long as she remained at Tadcaster, not a day passed
without her visiting him. The intrepid humanity that could
lead a girl of seventeen to contend with the ruggedness of
parish officers, and personally rescue a human being from such
suffering, requires no comment. But this was not the only
instance of her benevolence. She was constantly alive to every
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 347
claim of pity, and yet she discriminated judiciously between
the really needful and the imposing beggar.
In the winter of that year, during her residence at Tadcaster,
she made considerable proficiency in painting, and finished a
good copy of the picture of a Jewish Rabbi.
In the spring of 1813 she returned to Edinburgh, with a
mind enriched by more extensive reading. Such of her letters
as have been preserved mark the progress of her vigorous
understanding at this period.
On the 14th of June 1813, our whole family removed to
Park Hall, a small property which Mr. Fletcher had purchased,
and Grace enjoyed highly the mountain scenery of that part
of Stirlingshire. While her sisters amused themselves with
sketching landscapes, she used to draw groups of cottage
children, and not unfrequently found good picturesque subjects
for her pencil in the old beggars whom we met with in our
rambles. She engaged ardently with her sisters in teaching an
evening school, attended by some village children ; and it
would not be easy to find a family that realized more pleasure
than ours did that summer in the enjoyment of beautiful scenery,
in the happiness of family affection, and in the luxury of doing
good. We were at that time living in a very small house,
cheaply furnished by a village carpenter. We were too happy
to feel any desire for the gratifications of vanity or to envy
those who possessed them. It was a summer of uninterrupted
happiness till we were deprived of Margaret's society. She
went into Yorkshire in the autumn of 1813, and I, accom-
panied by my two eldest children, went to pay a long pro-
mised visit to Mrs. Glasgow, at Mount Greenan, in Ayrshire.
Grace, during this time, remained at Park Hall with her
father and her youngest brother and sister. In the following
winter she remained in Edinburgh, and partook more than
formerly of general society, where her engaging manners and
animated conversation made her an object of attention wherever
she was known.
The summer of 1814 was one of deep interest to our whole
family. On the 16th of July, in that year, Grace's eldest
sister was married to Mr. Taylor, and such an event could not
happen in a family so tenderly united without much anxious
348 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
solicitude for her future happiness. Immediately after that
event the family returned to Park Hall, where Grace resumed
her habits of active benevolence, and shared with her sisters in
the task of instructing village children. She likewise pursued
her favourite amusement of painting with less interruption than
in town. She took a portrait of her father, and one of her
youngest brother. The former was an excellent likeness, but
her taste was so superior to her execution that she was always
dissatisfied with her performances, and often threw aside her
pencil in despair of overcoming the impediments which a female
artist must always feel from the want of scientific instruction.
Some of her sketches, however, made during this summer, of
old beggars and cottage children, were excellent, and obtained
the unqualified approbation of some good judges of drawing.
In December 1814 she again left her beloved home to
cheer that of her friends at Tadcaster. I shall never forget
the sadness of her countenance as I saw her seated in the mail-
coach that was to convey her away from Edinburgh. It was
a dreary day in December, the snow was falling heavily, the
sky was dark and lowering ; she suppressed the expression of
her feelings, but she sank back in her seat, pale and almost
faint with grief at the thought of leaving those she loved
so dearly. She was fortunate in having as the companions of
her journey friends who knew how to value her. In a few days
she wrote me an animated account of her journey, and a cheer-
ful view of her feelings and occupations at Tadcaster. She
was so naturally disposed to happiness that all the refinement
of her character did not render her fastidious. It was the
happiness of others, not her own, that she was always aiming
at, and this was the secret of her contentment and cheerfulness
of temper. She employed herself during this winter in painting
the portraits of her uncle and aunt, and succeeded so well that
Mr. Williams, an Edinburgh artist, assured her friends that
there were not above two artists there who could have executed
them better. There was, however, in the tone of her letters
this winter a more pensive expression, more longing for con-
genial society, and more indulgence of cherished recollections
connected with home than formerly. On observing this, I pro-
posed that she should spend a month or two amongst friends
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 349
in London, so that a variety of new objects and an enlarged
sphere of observation might exhilarate and amuse her. To
this proposal she was less inclined to assent than might have
been expected from one so young and so alive to the gratifica-
tions of taste. But it separated her further from the home of
her affections, it prolonged that separation, it carried her among
strangers of distinguished intellectual character before whom
she dreaded to appear without the support she was accustomed
to derive from her own family. Ever disinterested in her pur-
poses and feelings, she objected strongly to the expense this
journey would occasion ; but her friend Mrs. Millar (with
whom she passed a delightful week this winter) seconded her
mother's wishes in reconciling her to it, and accident favoured
its accomplishment, by giving her the opportunity of tra-
velling with Dr. and Mrs. Brunton. The delight she expe-
rienced from this journey, and her sensibility to the kindness
she received from her excellent friend and companion, Mrs.
Brunton, and from others whom to know is to revere, is best
expressed in her own letters, and the impression which her
gentle manners and cultivated mind produced on them is best
to be collected from their communications to her mother. She
spent six weeks in London, part of the time in lodgings with
Mrs. Brunton, who daily accompanied her to such exhibitions
as strangers most desire to see in London. At Mrs. Barbauld's
Grace enjoyed the highest and most refined pleasures of society,
and Miss Aikin's affectionate reception of her was warmly and
gratefully remembered. One of her own letters from Mrs.
Barbauld's house gives her feelings at the time better than her
mother can record them :
From G. F.'s letter to her Mother.
"STOKE NEWIXGTOK, June 1815.
"DEAREST OF MINNIES, I left Hampstead with great regret
on Monday, and came to town for one day and night, which I
passed at Dr. Baillie's. There was a large party in the
evening, where I did not know many people, but where Mrs.
Joanna was very kind in coming to speak to me very often ;
indeed, I am truly grateful to her for her constant kindness
350 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
and attention. The next morning she took me to see a part
of the town I had not before been in Hyde Park and Picca-
dilly. I was pleased to find such a place as the Park, where
the poorest inhabitants of this overgrown and dismal metro-
polis may see the trees and green grass, and have some chance
of feeling that a good Spirit formed the universe. After our
return, Mrs. Baillie kindly pressed me to stay ; but as I had
fixed to dine at Mrs. Barbauld's that day, I declined. She
then insisted upon sending me in her carriage, and Mrs.
Joanna Baillie was so good as to accompany me. Mrs.
Barbauld received me most kindly, and I have passed with her
a week of a most quiet and gratifying kind of enjoyment.
The dreadful fear I had of Mrs. Joanna Baillie, the hopeless-
ness of pleasing her, gave a feeling of constraint which I
hoped I had got over, but which, whenever I saw her com-
posed figure enter the room, returned with painful force ; yet
I have seldom seen any human being that excites stronger
feelings of respect ; and there is something so extraordinary
in the union of such excellent poetic genius and such simpli-
city, and even plainness of manner, that your attention is con-
stantly alive to every word she utters, hoping you may hear
some poetical or elevated sentiment. She is one illustration
of Miss Benger's theory about complicated characters ; there
is so much left to the imagination, you must feel great
interest. But, to return to Mrs. Barbauld : there is in her so
much indulgence for the fancies and even follies of youth, that
in one week I feel more at ease in her society, and more at-
tached to her, than I could be to Mrs. Joanna Baillie in years.
Enthusiasm has not departed from the character of Mrs.
Barbauld, but has left such deep traces, that you find many of
her feelings and opinions still tinged with its magic. In Mrs.
Joanna Baillie that glowing, elevating sentiment has dwelt in
such impervious depths, and pursued such secret paths, that
the passing eye might think her uninfluenced by its spells.
" Miss Aikin seemed very happy to see me. We meet al-
most every day. Dr. and Mrs. Brunton dined here on Friday,
and were pleased with their visit to Mrs. Barbauld, and Mrs.
B. liked them.
" Owen came on Sunday and dined with us. You would see
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 351
his Bill had gone through the second reading ; but it cannot
pass this session. Mrs. Barbauld thinks him visionary, but he
had not sufficient time to unfold all his ideas, and then he will
beat anybody (papa would say) by exhausting their patience.
" Maggie tells me our dear Mrs. Millar is with you. How
delightful that will be for you ! I imagine you wandering up
to the burn this beautiful day, or some other pleasant place.
Dearest mamma, pray do not venture to ride the stupid starting
pony. I tremble whenever I think of the escape you had last
summer, even with your trusty squire Angus by your side. Is
darling Molly very busy with some little plan of her own ?
Now let me answer your questions. I was present at the
' Family Legend,' and was much discomposed to see it so ill
acted very inferior to the Edinburgh representation. Mrs.
Barclay looked ill, and acted worse. As it was a benefit night,
no disapprobation was shown, and Mrs. J. Baillie, who was
present, was so good-natured as to be pleased. Lord Byron,
who is now one of the Directors of Drury Lane, wishes to
bring on the stage another of her plays, I believe ' De Mont-
fort.' He thinks it would be better adapted for the stage
were she to give some stronger motive for the hatred of De
Montfort against Rezenvelt. In reading it you do not per-
ceive the want of this, considering the proud, irritable charac-
ter of De Montfort, but the spectators, particularly in the
galleries, require some evident insult or cause of resentment."
At the Miss Baillies' house, Grace met Lord and Lady
Byron during the one year of their union. She admired the
sweetness of Lady Byron's looks, and the unaffectedness of her
manners, while she was struck by the gloom of Lord Byron's
fine but melancholy countenance.
She had great delight in the pictures she saw in London
and in Mr. Angerstein's collection ; she studied them with the
eye of an artist and the taste of an amateur, but she knew no
other rules of judging than those which her own pure taste
prescribed. Murillo was decidedly her favourite. His pictures
had, she thought, more of poetry, as well as nature, in them
than those of any other artists she saw.
Grace was much urged by Mrs. Barbauld to prolong her
352 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
visit at Newington ; but her uncle and aunt having fixed to set
off for Scotland in the beginning of July, she hastened down
to join them, and arrived with them at Park Hall on the 9th
of July 1815. This was a happy meeting with her family,
from whom she had been separated for eight months. She had
much to tell of all she had seen and felt, and she used to say
that her London life had been so crowded with gratifications
that she enjoyed it more on recollection than at the time ; but
what she most delighted to remember was the kindness she
met with from persons whose genius and virtue gave them the
highest rank in her estimate of human character. She had too
much feeling and too much imagination to be at ease in the
presence of such persons as Mrs. Barbauld and Joanna Baillie.
Their genuine modesty made her feel, as she expressed it, a
sort of self-annihilation ; but this feeling of reverence for what
is really great and good so much resembles the sublimity of
devotional feeling, that it is delightful to minds such as hers.
From London and all its wonderful varieties she returned
more fond than ever of her home and home society. The
summer was passed chiefly at Park Hall, from which she and
Margaret made an excursion to see the Lakes of Monteith and
the Trossachs, and their impression of this beautiful scenery is
still preserved in a letter which I received from them while on
a visit at Mr. and Mrs. Taylor's house at Bourtree Hill, in
Ayrshire.
During this summer Grace began a picture of her mother and
youngest sister, which was finished during the ensuing winter in
Edinburgh, to which place all the family returned in November.
In the course of this winter Grace was present at the per-
formance of the Oratorio of the " Messiah," the first musical
festival ever held in Edinburgh, and she was deeply touched
by the sublime and affecting music of Handel, sung by Marconi
and Braham, especially by the words sung with peculiar expres-
sion and simplicity by Madame Marconi " He was despised
and rejected of men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with
grief." Grace had never before felt the power of music in its
highest degree. She had a very sweet and expressive voice, and
had her musical taste been earlier cultivated, I think she might
have excelled in that accomplishment as much as in painting.
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 353
She saw her little niece, Elizabeth Taylor, for the first time,
this winter, and this new object of affection excited the most
tender interest in her heart.
About the same time she formed an intimate acquaintance
with Miss Wilkes, a most agreeable American lady, the niece
of Monsieur Simond ; and during the whole of this winter
Grace enjoyed the pleasures of Edinburgh society with an
animation peculiar to herself, for it was not in crowds that she
delighted, hers was not that exterior gaiety which requires
strong excitement, and which often hides an aching heart, it
was the gaiety of intelligence, benevolence, and peace. At
Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton's she was always a welcome and
cherished visitor ; but it was at home that her cheerfulness
diffused itself most sweetly.
The loss of our excellent friend, Mrs. E. Hamilton, 1 who died
at Harrogate on the 23d of July, affected Grace extremely.
Many were the happy hours which she had passed in her
delightful society. Mrs. Hamilton had early discovered her
uncommon character, and had honoured her with distinguished
regard. During this summer she amused herself with painting.
She improved and completed the pictures of her mother and
youngest sister, painted the year before, and enjoyed much some
parts of Yorkshire, and its beautiful villages, with those feelings
of benevolence which delight in witnessing the comforts of the
poor.
On the 7th of October 1816, Grace, with her mother and
her brother Angus, left her kind aunt and youngest sister to
return to Edinburgh. They paid several pleasant visits on the
way in the county of Durham ; spent some days with Lady
Williamson, at Whitburn Hall, and Mrs. Millar, who then lived
near that place, and reached home on the 1 9th of October 1816.
She said on that day she had never enjoyed a journey so much.
As the carriage drove up the Canongate of Edinburgh, while
the clock of the Tron Church was striking eight, she exclaimed,
" Oh ! how rejoiced I am to see once more ' mine ain romantic
town.' "
Before the return of the rest of the family from Park Hall
she urged me strongly to form a resolution against engaging in
1 Author of " Cottagers of Glenburnie," and " Life of Agrippina."
Z
354 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
the turmoil of large parties, either at home or abroad, during
the winter. She suggested that her father's delicate state of
health made it proper to abstain from these engagements, and
that the enjoyment they afforded was quite inadequate to the
expense, trouble, and vexation in which they involved us.
" Let us avoid crowds," she said, " and enjoy society." Her
sister Margaret heartily agreed with her in this request ; and
on one occasion, when a too great facility had made me yield
to the request of a lady to join an evening party at her house,
Grace brought me a pen, and, putting it into my hand, entreated
me to retract my engagement and keep firm to my resolution
of avoiding evening parties. Thus did her firmness, prudence,
and discretion establish a regulation in the family highly favour-
able in every respect to its comfort, ease, and real enjoyment.
But while she avoided crowds, she enjoyed the real pleasures
of society with a zest and vivacity more than usual. It seemed
as if she had a presentiment that she had not long to live, and
that the last months of her life should be as full of usefulness
and rational enjoyment as possible. If I could mention any
period of her life in which a deeper feeling of habitual piety
seemed to influence her whole conduct, it was this winter.
She had always possessed devotional feelings and a firm belief
in the truths of Christianity ; but those peculiar views, which
are in the best sense of the word evangelical, seemed now to be
gaining on her mind. They were strengthened by her intimacy
with Mrs. Brunton, and while they served to form a habit of
practical piety, they did not narrow her mind, nor limit her
charity and toleration for the religious opinions of those
who differed from her. The duties of humanity were never
neglected, nor were they ever suffered to interfere with the
duties of home. Three or four days of every week she and
her sister Margaret attended the House of Industry, or the
Lancasterian School, but from these she always returned home
before two o'clock, to accompany her mother if she chose to
go out.
During this winter our family became acquainted with Mrs.
Wilson (the widow of Theobald Wolfe Tone), whose character
and fate interested Grace in an uncommon degree. She
admired her talents, and loved her for the noble-mindedness
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 355
and generous enthusiasm of her character. They became
friends, and she offered to paint a picture of young Tone from
a portrait of him which his mother had, and which had been
injured in the carriage. The desire of gratifying this devoted
mother was an object which she had much at heart, and the
painting of young Tone's picture excited her extremely. She
succeeded well in finishing it, but an accident occurred in the
varnishing of the picture which destroyed her whole labour.
Instead of being disconcerted by this, she said, after mentioning
the accident to me, " Don't mind, dear mamma ; I hope I shall
be able to do a better." She began another, but did not live
to finish it. She likewise left an unfinished likeness of her
father. The mornings that were not devoted to the superin-
tendence of the House of Industry were employed in reading
and painting. The evenings were given to domestic society,
where she diffused a cheerfulness and sweetness to which no
description can do justice.
In one of their visits in the month of March this year (1817)
to the House of Industry, Grace and Margaret met a crowd
in the Canongate, occasioned by the screams of a child of seven
years old, which a woman was leading to the Charity Workhouse.
They followed the woman, and learned that she had reared the
deserted orphan from infancy, but that the time was now come
when the managers of the poor had thought fit to take it from
her, according to the general rule, and place it in the Charity
Workhouse. The child, however, had repeatedly run home to
her kind old friend, and neither threats, punishments, nor
bribes, could detain her in the workhouse. The pertinacious
fondness of this child for her nurse interested the two sisters ;
they followed her to the workhouse, and, by strong recommenda-
tions of kindness to the matron, and by promises of reward to
the child, and by gaining for her permission to pay a weekly
visit to the nurse, they hoped to reconcile her to her fate ; but
in this they were disappointed : they found she had again
escaped the vigilance of the matron, that she refused food, and
that, even when reduced to great debility by typhus fever, she
had gone, in the midst of a stormy night, to her nurse's door
and begged to be admitted. The sensibility and affectionate-
ness of this unfortunate child touched Grace's heart ; she left
356 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
no exertion untried to obtain her removal from the workhouse,
and by the influence of her excellent friends, Dr. and Mrs.
Brunton, she had the comfort of seeing her placed as a town
pensioner in the house of the nurse she had loved so dearly.
Whether or not it was in visiting this poor child that our
beloved Grace caught the fever of which she died, God only
knows. She was about her Divine Master's business she was
walking in His steps and doing His commandments. When
could she have been fitter to appear in the presence of her
Father and her God ? The activity and universality of her
benevolence could only be equalled by the disinterestedness,
gentleness, and sweetness of her temper.
On the Sunday before she was taken ill, she walked out for
some time with me and her sister Margaret ; and speaking of
the past winter, she said " When have we passed so happy
and so undisturbed a winter 1 ? This has been owing to its
quietness." She used to speak much and tenderly of her
absent sisters and her excellent aunt, and delighted herself
with the playfulness of her little niece, Elizabeth Taylor, who
was our inmate this winter.
The first thing Grace did every morning was to visit the
nursery and bring the child in her arms to my bedroom. The
child reposed on her tenderness, and always showed her
marked preference. Her affection for this engaging infant
seemed to afford her great increase of happiness.
On the Monday before her illness began she accompanied
me to dine with Mrs. Craik. She entered warmly into an
argument against negro slavery, and supported her views on
that subject ably and eloquently, in opposition to a gentleman
who had lately returned from the West Indies.
On the morning of the day following (Tuesday) she accom-
panied me to the House of Industry, and visited her little orphan
protegee at the house of her nurse, and in the evening she
went to see Kemble act " Hamlet," the last time he performed
that character in Edinburgh. I never saw her enjoy anything
with more animation. Her taste in acting was exquisite.
On Wednesday she employed herself in painting the second
picture of young Tone, and in the evening accompanied me
and her sister to Mrs. Brunton' s. She was in excellent spirits,
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 357
and she at all times enjoyed Mrs. Brun ton's society ex-
tremely.
On Thursday, after spending some hours at the picture of
her father, she went out to dispose of tickets for a benefit
concert for Miss Derby, a deserving young woman who had
been recommended to us by some English friends, and expressed
a wish to go herself to the concert, having never, she said,
attended one in Edinburgh before. In the evening we were
at home, and quite alone, and Grace read to us most beauti-
fully some of the finest passages from Young's "Night
Thoughts." Her voice, in reading, was touching and expres-
sive, and her taste correct and elegant.
On Friday evening she accompanied me and a small party
of friends to Miss Derby's concert, and returned in high spirits
and much pleased with the evening's performance, for though
her taste for music had been little cultivated, she felt its
power strongly.
On Saturday she accompanied her father and Mrs. Wilson
on a little drive to the country, and, on coming home,
reminded me of some visits which we had reproached ourselves
with not having paid. On these visits she accompanied me,
and afterwards enjoyed the society of a few friends at dinner,
and of Mr. and Mrs. Wilson in the evening. It was remarked
by Dr. Anderson, who was one of the party, that he never saw
Grace more animated, intelligent, and pleasing. At night,
after the party had left us, she read aloud Southey's " Wat
Tyler" (then newly published), which was interrupted by
much mirth and laughter.
On the following morning (Sunday) she rose earlier than the
rest of the family, and, after breakfast, went with Miss Wright
(a friend of mine lately arrived from the country) to hear Mr.
Grey preach at a small chapel in the Old Town. When
Margaret and I returned from our attendance at the Episcopal
Chapel, we found her in the drawing-room. She complained
of headache and weariness, and said the heat of the small and
crowded place of worship she had been in had made her feel
faint, and that now she felt cold and disposed to shivering. I
recommended her to lie down in bed, but she said she hoped to
be better after dinner. She went down to dinner with us, and
358 MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER.
took tea in the drawing-room, but retired early. Next day
she kept her bed, still complaining of headache ; and at night,
on rising for a little while to have her bed made, she fainted.
I sent immediately for our family doctor, Mr. Turner, but, in
spite of the remedies he applied, she became every day more
hot, restless, and uneasy, especially during the night.
On Friday morning she sent for me, and said, " Oh, mamma,
I have had a dreadful night, but I think I could sleep in your
arms." I laid myself down beside her. She said, " Let us
pray ;" and she slowly and distinctly repeated the Lord's
Prayer. She then laid her head on my breast, and seemed to
sleep quietly for a few minutes. On raising her head again,
she said, " Dearest mother, I have had my first sleep where I
had my first food." Soon afterwards there was an increase of
heat and headache, which was not removed by the application
of more leeches to the temples. During the whole of the day
(Friday) her restlessness and anxiety increased, and towards
night high delirium came on.
The symptoms of typhus fever (for such it was now declared
to be) kept increasing all Saturday. During the continuance
of the delirium she constantly entreated to be taken home, and
anxiously asked, " Why she was suffered to lie in the streets ;
why she was not suffered to go home." And once when I
told her she was at home, at that dear home where she had
spent so many happy evenings, she looked earnestly in my face,
and pressing my hand, said, "Dearest mother, you know how
I dote upon those evenings."
On Monday morning the pulse fell considerably, and the
blister seemed to have had good effect. Her feverish delirium
subsided. She appeared all that day in a state of stupor, with
low mutterings.
On Tuesday Dr. Thomson thought her decidedly better.
On that night, when I was sitting by her bedside, she said
" Bring a caudle, and let the light shine full on mamma's face,
that I may see her." When the candle was brought, she
fixed her eyes on me with an expression of tender earnestness
for a few minutes, as if to search my thoughts, or, perhaps, to
look her last. At this time she seemed not to recognise any
of the rest who attended her ; but whenever I approached her
MEMOIR OF GRACE FLETCHER. 359
bed she stretched out her arms, and once she said " Dearest
mother, if I should die, I do not suffer excessive pain."
On Wednesday she appeared worse than the day before, and
Dr. Gregory was called. He did not conceal from me that
the danger was extreme. He ordered wine in considerable
quantity to support her. For three days it appeared to agree
with her well, and there was no increase of any dangerous
symptom. After the first sleep procured by an opiate, she
said "Oh, how inexpressibly happy do I feel!" Never,
amid the wanderings of delirium, did a word escape her that
was at variance with the piety and purity of her whole life.
Once she clasped her hands, as if in an attitude of prayer, and
said, " Give us, Lord, the spirit of love, that we may delight
to do Thy will, and of discernment, that that," and she
seemed to lose all recollection, and again relapsed into mutter-
ing delirium.
On Sunday and Monday, the 13th and 14th of April, the
headache and depression increased. On Tuesday she seemed
easier, and our hopes revived. That evening, however, as I
was sitting by her bedside, the stomach rejected the wine
given. The next day this symptom increased. All hope was
now over. She passed a day of great suffering from sickness,
and there was no interruption to the delirium ; but her voice
was strong, and I was not aware that all would so soon be
over. " Mamma, mamma," were the last words she uttered.
She died on Wednesday night, at ten o'clock, April 16th,
1817. Dr. Thomson, whose kindness on that occasion can
never be forgotten by us, remained with us for four hours, and
did not leave us till she had breathed her last.
Never was there such tender, dutiful, fond, and respectful
affection as her whole short life exemplified. Thankful to
God for having given me such a child, and still for sparing me
so many blessings in those that remain, may we be enabled so
to live that, when time shall be no more, we may be reunited
to her in a blessed immortality.
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER,
ADVOCATE,
WITH A SKETCH OF THE POLITICAL STATE OF FEELING
IN EDINBURGH FROM 1791 TO 1815.
BY HIS WIDOW.
Character given of Archibald Fletcher, Esq., by Lord Cocltburn,
in his "Life of Lord Jeffrey" vol. i. p. 90.
"A pure and firm patriot. Throughout all the changes
that occurred in his long life, he was the same, never neglect-
ing any opportunity of resisting oppression, in whatever quarter
of the globe it might be practised or threatened, ashamed of
no romance of public virtue, always ready to lead, but, from
modesty, much readier to follow, his Whig party in every
conflict of principle, and all with perfect candour and
immoveable moderation.
" He was almost the father, and was certainly the most
persevering champion, of burgh reform in Scotland. But
indeed his whole life, devoted as it was to the promotion of
every scheme calculated to diffuse knowledge and to advance
liberty in every region of the world, was applied with especial
zeal and steadiness to the elevation of his native country."
COTTAGE, NEAR RUGBY, May 21st, 1829.
" MY DEAR GRANDCHILDREN, You were all so young
when you lost your excellent grandfather that I have thought
it right to give you a short account of him, both for your
satisfaction and improvement. I might have made this
362 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
Memoir of his useful and honourable life much longer, yet my
object being to interest and impress your hearts with veneration
for his memory rather than to give a minute detail of the
narrative of his life, I hope you will accept it, imperfect as it
is, with my prayers, that it may please God that you may all
so live as to be worthy representatives of him, both in his
public and private life. I am, dear children, your affectionate
grandmother, ELIZA FLETCHER."
ARCHIBALD FLETCHER was born at Pooble, in Glenlyon, in
Perthshire, in the year 1746. His father, Angus Fletcher,
was a younger brother of Archibald Fletcher, Esq., of Bernice
and Dunans, in Argyllshire : and their ancestors were, accord-
ing to the tradition of the country, the first who had raised
smoke or boiled water on the braes of Glenorchy.
In that wild and mountainous district the Fletchers had
been a numerous and warlike clan for many centuries ; and
near to Loch Auchalader there may still be seen the mossy
cairns where the bones of the fierce Macdonalds and
M'Inlaisters were interred, after a deadly feud fought near
that spot many hundred years ago, on account of some disputed
ground which each clan claimed as their rightful inheritance.
The patronymic of M'Inlaister, translated from the Gaelic,
signifies " Man of the Arrow." Whether the Fletchers were
of old celebrated for making, or for using, arrows is uncertain ;
but the Stewarts of Appin, a very powerful clan in feudal times,
found the M'Inlaisters such useful allies in battle, that they
formed a treaty of alliance with them in the fourteenth
century, and bound themselves to espouse the interests of
their clan in all their hostile encounters, on condition of
receiving their help in times of need.
Angus Fletcher was twice married. He had four children
by his first marriage. Archibald, your grandfather, was the
eldest son by his second wife, Grace M'Naughton. She was a
woman of most noble nature, affectionate dispositions, strong
sense, and fervent piety. She lost her husband when her six
children were very young. It may be supposed that the
property of a Highland tacksman, eighty years ago, would not
be considerable when divided between a widow and ten
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 363
children. But their mother, notwithstanding her second
marriage, proved so faithful a guardian of their little property,
that she was enabled to give her sons the education of
gentlemen. Archibald used to delight in the recollections of
his Highland boyhood. His favourite sport was spearing
salmon by torchlight ; and often, with his little troop of
brothers, he used to leap from a height into a peat moss breast-
high, and then spring into a mountain stream to wade and
splash amidst the torrent. I never could discover that he had
any taste for pastoral life ; it was too inanimate and tranquil
for his ardent temperament. He used, when quite a boy, to
delight in listening to the tales and songs of wandering bards
who frequented his mother's farm, but these were tales of
battles ; and he well remembered his joyful anticipations when
any of the family were to be newly clothed, because the
itinerant tailor of Glenlyon had a vast store of Ossianic lore,
and Archibald used to sit by his side the day through,
listening to the poems of Ossian, and the tales of ghosts and
fairies. His imagination, however, was not so much capti-
vated by the marvellous as his moral taste was elevated by the
sublime. He delighted, even then, in the generosity and
magnanimity of Fingal and his heroic times, and never to the
last hour of his life could he read or hear of a noble action
without being moved to tears. This high tone of feeling,
fostered no doubt by the legends of the tailor bard, was
likewise cultivated by his mother's habitual piety and
unworldly turn of mind. She was profoundly acquainted with
her Bible, and she made its pure and holy precepts the guide
of her life. Her dwelling was at least ten miles from the
parish church, and on the Sabbath afternoon many of the
neighbouring cottars who were unable to walk so far, assembled
on a hill-side in summer, or in a shieling near her house, and
there, seated in the midst of them, she read to them from her
English Bible, translating into Gaelic the parables of the
Saviour, or the prophetic portions of the Old Testament, or the
patriarchal histories so well suited to interest her shepherd
clansmen.
There was then no translation of the Bible into the Gaelic
tongue ; it was to these poor Highlanders a sealed book. Sirs.
364 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
M'Diarmid exercised the office of a home missionary among
her neighbours from a principle of pure love to God, and from
an earnest desire to do them good, neither arrogating any
merit nor expecting any reward. This gratuitous exercise of
the holiest charity had its reward however in the affection and
respect of her little flock, who had such confidence in her
judgment and kindness that they consulted her in all their
difficulties. Nothing could exceed the harmony that prevailed
in her numerous family, and the impartiality of her conduct
towards her own children and those of her first and second
husbands.
Archibald's first separation from this excellent mother was
when he went to the Grammar School at Kenmore, in
Breadalbane. He was then about ten years old, and there he
began to learn English and Latin Grammar at the same time,
and soon distinguished himself as an aspiring and industrious
scholar. He was removed at thirteen to the High School of
Perth, where his academical ardour was still more excited by
keener competition. Being one morning too late in making
his appearance at school, his master degraded him to the
bottom of the class as a punishment ; his heart was hot with
indignation at this supposed injustice, but restraining the
expression of his feelings, in a few minutes afterwards, by a
fortunate superiority in scholarship, he regained his place at
the top of the class. The boys cheered him very loudly, and
then, giving way to the passionate expression of mingled feel-
ings, he burst into tears. From that moment, he used to say, he
dated his devotion to popular feelings and his hatred of injustice.
As Archibald's small patrimony was nearly exhausted by
the expense of his education, and his inclination led him to
prefer the profession of the Law, he was placed at sixteen in
the office of Mr. Grant, a writer in Edinburgh, and from that
time was wholly dependent on his own exertions. Mr. Grant
formed so high an opinion of his worth and talents that he
appointed him by will sole executor in trust for his affairs, and
recommended him as confidential clerk to the then Lord
Advocate, Sir James Montgomery. Sir James had too just an
estimation of his merits to allow him to continue long in a
subordinate capacity. He became his zealous friend, and
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 365
recommended him to Mr. Wilson of Howden, with whom, after
serving a regular apprenticeship, he became an active and
efficient partner. He took advantage of the good libraries
and good society of Edinburgh to cultivate his mind and
improve his taste. It was during this period of his laborious
professional life, when assiduous attention to his duties
recommended him to every one in whose employment he was
engaged, that for several years he used to rise at four o'clock
in the morning to study Greek ; and he found time, when the
labours of the day had concluded, to attend literary and
debating societies, and exercised his pen in the composition of
various ingenious essays, chiefly on metaphysical and literary
subjects. He attended at this time the lectures of Professor
Adam Fergusson, who so ably filled the Moral Philosophy chair
in the University of Edinburgh, and while attending that class
became acquainted with Mr. Dugald Stewart, in whose
deservedly high reputation he afterwards always took the most
cordial interest.
It was about the year 1778 that the regiment of M'Cra
Highlanders mutinied and refused to embark at Leith for
America. They maintained that they had been enlisted for
home service only, and that Government had broken faith with
them in proposing to send them abroad. These furious muti-
neers posted themselves on Arthur's Seat, and obstinately
refused to obey the orders of their commanding officers. In
this alarming emergency, Mr. Archibald Fletcher was chosen
to negotiate with them. His perfect acquaintance with the
Erse language, and his high reputation for talents and integrity,
qualified him for this difficult and delicate mediation, and
entitled him to the confidence of both parties. He was suf-
fered to approach the mutineers with a flag of truce. Not one
of them could speak a word of English, while many of their
officers were equally ignorant of Erse. This negotiation lasted
several days before Mr. Fletcher was able to reconcile the
claims of the opposite parties. He did, however, prevail on
the mutineers to lay down their arms, and the Government
agreed to accept their limited services to Ireland, from which
they were afterwards drafted into other volunteer corps to serve
in America during the war.
3G6 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
On the expiration of his apprenticeship, Mr. Fletcher entered
into partnership with Mr. Wilson, and became a member of
the Society of Writers to the Signet. About this time the
Faculty of Advocates attempted to establish a regulation that
no man above twenty-seven years of age should become a mem-
ber of their body. Mr. Fletcher wrote a very able pamphlet
on the subject, addressed to the Society of Writers to the
Signet, exposing the illiberality of this regulation, and ascribed
it to an aristocratical spirit of exclusion, alike injurious to the
aspirations of young men of talent and to the interests of the
Scottish Bar, which ought to be open to all candidates quali-
fied by education and character for that honourable profession.
This essay obtained for the author the thanks of the Society of
Writers to the Signet. The irony and sound argument it con-
tained bore so severely against the exclusionists in the Faculty
of Advocates, that they withdrew the proposed regulation, and
never afterwards attempted to enforce it. The liberality of
principle and eloquence of composition which distinguished this
publication obtained for Mr. Fletcher the friendship of the
Honourable Henry Erskine, whose high birth and gifted un-
derstanding alike made him averse to adopt the vulgar distinc-
tions that the exclusionists aimed at. From that time Mr.
Erskine, then holding the first rank at the Scottish Bar,
honoured Mr. Fletcher with his most cordial friendship. Soon
after this pamphlet had attained its object, Mr. Fletcher pub-
lished an "Essay on Church Patronage," a subject at that
time warmly contested in the General Assembly. He took the
popular side of the question, and demonstrated by the most
conclusive reasoning that the choice of the minister of each
parish ought, according to the laws of the Church, to be vested
in the parishioners who were members of the Church of Scot-
land. He exposed the servility of spirit which the present
system of Church -patronage produced, showing that it con-
verted the servant of God and the faithful pastor of His flock
(which a Christian minister should be) into a time-serving and
worldly-minded dependant on the favour of the great. He
proved also that the exercise of their rights in the choice of
their religious teachers would accustom the people to reflection,
and raise them in their own esteem, and thus prepare them for
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 367
a due estimation of all the civil and political rights that be-
longed to them as a nation of free men. The " Essay on
Patronage " was "written in a fearless spirit, and with great
vigour and elegance of style, and the argument was enforced
by the happiest illustrations to prove the benefits of freedom,
both civil and religious.
About this time Mr. Fletcher was one of the founders of the
Juridical Society and a constituent member of the Highland
Society. To the business of both he devoted much of his
leisure time.
It was during the American War that his attention was first
directed to Politics, and he then acquainted himself extensively
with the history of nations, and the manner in which different
forms of government had influenced the human character.
From that period political science was his favourite object ; I
might almost say it became his passion ; for he perceived that
there was no effectual means of improving the condition of
mankind but by a wise and just government. He hailed the
establishment of American Independence as one of those great
events that serve to teach practical wisdom and moderation to
old Governments, and as an experiment of Republican princi-
ples under circumstances much more favourable to their develop-
ment than the ancient Republics had enjoyed.
From that time Mr. Fletcher became an ardent admirer of
Mr. Fox ; but his love of liberty did not confine itself to
abstract speculation. In the year 1784 he became a member
of a Society the object of which was to inquire into and reform
the abuses of the Scottish burghs, the close system of a self-
elected and irresponsible magistracy which prevailed then being,
as he conceived, the root and hotbed of all political delinquency,
as it separates the interests of the governors from those of the
governed, and indulges the selfish and corrupt principles of
mankind at the expense of the public good. To the object of
Scottish burgh reform Mr. Fletcher for some time, in a great
degree, concentrated his exertions, and his gratuitous labours in
that cause were for several years intense and unremitting. He
was chosen Secretary to the Edinburgh Society of Burgh
Reform, and opened an active and extensive correspondence
with the Liberal promoters of that measure in every burgh in
368 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
Scotland. The delegates from these burghs met annually in
Edinburgh ; and after their secretary had collected a vast mass
of evidence proving the corruption of the system and the mon-
strous abuses to which it led, he was desired to draw " The
Principles of the Bill for Burgh Reform in Scotland " to be
submitted to Parliament.
In February 1787 Mr. Fletcher, 'accompanied by some other
gentlemen, was sent to London as delegate from the Scottish
burghs. It was then he became personally acquainted with
Mr. Fox and the other distinguished leaders of the Whig party.
Mr. Fox expressed his decided approbation of the views of the
Scottish burgh reformers, but lamented that he should not
have leisure that session to do justice to their cause. He
recommended the delegates to wait on Mr. Sheridan and com-
mit their important business to him. They did so. Mr.
Sheridan readily undertook to be their champion, and at an
early period of the session obtained a Committee of the House
of Commons to inquire into the grievances. Mr. Fletcher was
in daily attendance on this Committee, and from what he then
saw of the leading Whigs, both in public and private society,
he was convinced of the integrity of their public principles, as
well as delighted with their candour and freedom from the bitter-
ness of party spirit. In no society did he ever hear the talents
and merits of Mr. Pitt more justly valued than in that of his
rival statesmen.
It was while on his way to London, in 1787, with a mind
intensely occupied by the subject of this mission, that Mr.
Fletcher first met the lady who became his wife in 1791. It
might be supposed that having lived a bachelor above forty
years, and with a character formed by long habits of profes-
sional life, as well as a mind directed to political and abstract
speculation, Mr. Fletcher might have had little indulgence for
one whose age and pursuits were so different from his own ;
but the contrary was remarkably the case. He was in the
best sense of the word a most indulgent husband. He liber-
ally admitted his wife to a participation of his intellectual
stores, and exalted her aims by cultivating her sympathy in
his own extensive views and elevated purposes.
In the years that followed, from 1791 to 1800, we expe-
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 369
rienced much of that strong excitement which the early period
of the French Revolution produced. Mr. Fletcher hailed the
first dawn of liberty in France as the harbinger of good not
only to that country but to the whole of Europe. He depre-
cated all foreign interference in the political affairs of a nation
that struggled constitutionally to be free. He heartily co-ope-
rated with the Whig party in Edinburgh, and attended every
anniversary of the fall of the Bastile since the glorious clay
on which it fell, the 14th July 1789.
He took a deep interest in the deliberations of the Consti-
tuent Assembly, and- admired the abstract principles of the
Gironde party, while he condemned their want of vigour in not
punishing the authors of that bloody day (the 10th of August
1792), and the still bloodier which followed on the 1st and
2d of September ; for while he deeply cherished the principles
of rational liberty, he heartily deplored the excesses committed
in its name.
Mr. Fletcher attributed the power and mischievous influence
of the Jacobin faction in France in great measure to the foreign
interference which had been directed against the proceedings
of the Constituent Assembly. The coalition of crowned heads
encouraged the hopes of the Court faction and the anti-Revolu-
tionists, while the violent party among the Republicans became
alarmed by the threats of the Duke of Brunswick and the flight
of the King after he had solemnly sworn to be faithful to the
nation and the law. These circumstances combined to excite
the public mind to a state of political distrust and delirium, of
which bad men took advantage ; hence the Jacobins attained an
ascendency over the moderate and enlightened Girondists, and
"The Reign of Terror" succeeded to that of law and justice.
These opinions, which Mr. Fletcher declared on all occasions,
were so hostile to those of the political faction which at that
time governed Scotland, that his pecuniary interests as a barris-
ter were considerably affected by them ; for such was the
servility of the public mind at that time, that it was not con-
sidered safe to trust a Whig lawyer with the management of a
case, from the supposed prejudices of the Judges against their
holding those opinions. Mr. Fletcher always maintained that
this was an unfounded slander on the Scotch Judges, and that
2 A
370 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
however much in some instances they might have recommended
themselves to seats on the Bench by political servility, he never
knew them violate the integrity of justice from political pre-
judices against any member of the Bar. Certain it is, however,
that the Whig lawyers at that time were comparatively brief-
less, and that agents were instructed not to employ their own
brother if they chanced to be opposed to the Minister of the day.
Although conscious that it would have made no difference
in my husband's line of conduct at this time, when we were
often reduced to our last guinea in " our Reign of Terror," it
was my happiness to delight in the uncompromising principles
on which he acted ; and he has often said to me that the sup-
port he derived from my sympathy in these trying times was
most consolatory to his mind.
Although Mr. Fletcher declined to become a member of the
British Convention, from his disapprobation of Universal
Suffrage and Annual Parliaments which they advocated, and
from a conviction that such claims would increase the alarm
among the higher orders, and therefore strengthen Mr. Pitt's
administration, he never shrank from being the professional
advocate of those unfortunate and misguided men who suffered
for such intemperate opinions. He acted gratuitously as
counsel for Joseph Gerald, and others, accused of sedition ; and
when party spirit was at its height of intolerance, and the
Honourable Henry Erskine was deprived of the Deanship of the
Faculty of Advocates by a vote of the majority of that body,
in 1796, on account of being present at a meeting the object
of which was to oppose what were called the " Gagging Bills,"
Mr. Fletcher was one of the courageous thirty-eight who formed
the minority of the Faculty of Advocates on that occasion.
At this time he took an active part, as a member of the
Edinburgh Committee, for the Abolition of the Slave Trade,
and never lost sight of the business of the Society for the Im-
provement of the Highlands. His labours in the cause of Burgh
Reform were suspended owing to the alarm for what were
called " French principles," which operated unfavourably on all
questions of reform ; and Parliamentary Reform, once Mr. Pitt's
favourite measure, was now included in the cry against all
dangerous innovations.
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER 371
While party feelings divided friends, and even members of
the same family from each other, Mr. Fletcher continued to
hold so high a place for personal integrity, his patriotism was
so much without pretension, and his conduct so wholly free
from the imputation of sinister motives of any kind, that,
though he suffered professionally from the political panic of
the times, he never had a personal enemy, and he began to
find his professional emoluments gradually increasing. His
law-papers were considered models, both in perspicuity of style
and acuteuess of reasoning ; whatever he did was done with
the zeal and energy of an upright purpose, and perhaps there
never existed in any mind more of the capacity of submission
to the drudgery of labour in the performance of professional
duty united to independence of spirit and unpretending dignity
of character.
Almost the only part of Mr. Pitt's administration which
Mr. Fletcher heartily approved was the Irish Union ; and he
gave that statesman great credit for retiring from office when
he could not redeem the pledge he had given for Catholic
emancipation. For that great measure my husband was a
zealous and uncompromising advocate, identified, as he con-
sidered it to be, with the tranquillity and safety of the whole
British Empire, and no less an act of policy than of justice.
He rejoiced in the formation of a Whig administration in
1806, and was, perhaps, one of the most disinterested men of
his party in that feeling, for he had formed no ambitious ex-
pectations of promotion.
The death of Mr. Fox, which happened in September 1806,
was an event Mr. Fletcher deplored, in common with every
friend of constitutional liberty. He had early admired that
great statesman for his vigorous opposition to the American
W T ar, and still more for his consistent and manly resistance to
all interference in the internal affairs of France at the begin-
ning of the Revolution. He was one of the fourteen gentle-
men who met to celebrate Mr. Fox's birthday on the 24th of
January 1797, after his name had been erased from his
Majesty's Privy Council for his determined opposition to the
French War. This little meeting was composed of courageous
spirits, for it was known at the time that the names of the
372 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
fourteen assembled on that occasion were sent to Government
as dangerous and disloyal subjects. Mr. Fletcher rejoiced,
however, that Fox had been in office long enough to accom-
plish the object nearest his heart, the abolition of the
African Slave Trade ; though his honest endeavours to obtain
honourable terms of peace with France were frustrated by the
arrogant and unreasonable demands of Napoleon Buonaparte.
Mr. Fletcher was at this time so indignant at the tone of
defiance and threatened invasion assumed by France, that he
thought it was every man's duty to arm in defence of national
honour. With this feeling he entered as an ensign in the
Highland corps of volunteers. His soldierly accoutrements
were a subject of much amusement to his family and friends.
His quiet manners, and studious, sedentary habits, accorded ill
with the pomp and circumstance of regimental duty, but he
set about the acquirement of a military step and deportment
with as much zeal and earnestness as if the defence of the
country had depended on his individual exertions ; and at a
mock battle at Leith, when it was assigned to that part of the
Highland corps to which he was attached to fall back for a
time before an invading enemy, he declared with characteristic
simplicity, that " he never could command Highlanders to re-
treat, and that, if he did, he hoped they would disobey him."
He quitted his law-papers at the hour of drill without showing
the least annoyance at such interruptions, for as his old friend
Lord Buchan observed, " Fletcher buckles on his sword in
the true spirit of a civic soldier."
In the enjoyment of perfect domestic happiness, and in con-
sideration for the welfare and comfort of every member of his
family, he never was surpassed by any one. His children can
never forget his quiet sympathy in all their pleasures, his
anxiety that they should enjoy every advantage of liberal edu-
cation, his tenderness towards them when they were sick, and
the great indulgence and reasonableness of his habitual con-
duct towards them. To his servants he was the most kind and
indulgent of masters, and to the poor and afflicted his nature
was so compassionate that he would have divided with them
his last shilling.
One instance of Mr. Fletcher's compassionate disposition is
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 373
well remembered in his family. A miserable female culprit
had been detected in the act of stealing from his premises, and
in the absence of their master and mistress his servants had
secured her until the police were summoned to take her before
a magistrate. Mr. Fletcher, on coming home, would not inter-
fere with the course of justice, but going quietly to the place
where she was in custody he gave her a loaf of bread, saying,
" Take that, poor woman ; you look hungry ; I dare say it
was that that made you steal." He was ever ready to be the
poor man's advocate, and used to think his time well employed
when he could professionally assist the indigent or oppressed
with his advice and exertions.
The unjust aggressions of the French Government in Spain
made him rejoice in the assistance rendered to that nation by
the British Government in 1808. He took a strong interest
in the Peninsular War, because he considered the cause of
Spain to be just, and he hailed the peace so dearly purchased
in 1814, as it secured the fall of that military despotism which
Napoleon had established on the ruins of the French Republic.
The violation of the Charter by Louis xvni., and the en-
thusiasm with which the army and the people of France re-
ceived their exiled Emperor on his return from Elba, gave rise
to mingled feelings of hope and apprehension. Of hope, that
the Chamber of Deputies would so limit the power of Napoleon
that not his will but the law on which he had dared to trample
should thenceforward govern France ; and of apprehension
that Napoleon was not of a character, any more than the
Bourbons, to profit by the misfortunes he had experienced.
The hundred days justified these apprehensions, and France,
notwithstanding her apparent devotion to this "spoiled child
of victory," had now so little confidence in his justice or in-
vincibility that instead of the four hundred thousand that had
followed him to Moscow in pursuit of glory, scarcely one hun-
dred thousand could be found to rally round him on the plains
of Waterloo, when nothing less than national independence was
at stake.
The battle of Waterloo was so proud a day for Great
Britain that Mr. Fletcher rejoiced in it with true patriotic
feeling ; but he did not rejoice without trembling, lest that
374 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
confederacy of armed powers which prevailed over the fortunes
of one military despot should forget what was due to France
and to the rest of Europe. The formation of the Holy Alli-
ance confirmed these fears. That league of Kings, allied for
the express purpose of perpetuating the abuses of old govern-
ments and repressing the spirit of civil and religious liberty
whenever it should appear, enlisted among its adherents the
Government of England. Mr. Fletcher deprecated this union
as the most disgraceful that England could have formed.
From this coalition, and not from the spirit of its own laws
and institutions, he attributed the harsh and ungenerous treat-
ment of our fallen enemy Napoleon Buonaparte, whose sufferings
at St. Helena ought, in his opinion, to have been made as little
severe as was consistent with the peace and safety of Europe.
In the spring of 1816 infirm health obliged Mr. Fletcher to
retire from the Bar, just when the emoluments of his practice
began to reward the diligence of his professional life. So
long as health permitted he never complained of.the fatigue of
labour ; he loved his profession and delighted in the energetic
exercise of his mental faculties, but when obliged to relinquish
it, he did so without a murmur, and retired during the
summer months to his farm in Stirlingshire, where some
additions had been made to the house. The employment
of planting, draining, and improving the soil supplied to his
active mind a substitute for professional employment.
In the spring of 1817 Mr. Fletcher had the misfortune to
lose his second daughter ; this was the first great blow to his
domestic happiness. She was in her twenty-first year, and had
all the gracious and endearing qualities that a highly-gifted
understanding and a most affectionate disposition could bestow.
He followed her remains to the grave, a true mourner, and
never afterwards could mention her name without the tenderest
emotion.
After Mr. Fletcher ceased to be able to superintend his
farming concerns with pleasure to him, it was thought best
to part with the property in Stirlingshire ; and in the spring
of 1824 he took a lease of Auchindinny House and grounds,
on the banks of the Esk, and there his family had the comfort
of seeing him enjoy a serene and healthy old age. Reading,
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 375
conversation with his family, and benevolent projects, were his
chief pleasures. He was uniformly cheerful and contented,
and his interest in public affairs continued unabated. Till
within a short time of his death his eyesight was so good
that he could read without glasses. Here I could recount
his many touching expressions of gratitude to God for
the blessing of our union, for our happiness in each other and
in our children, but these are sacred subjects. He delighted
in the playfulness of his grandchildren, and loved to see them
all about him. He was confined by his last illness only a
few weeks to bed, and those who faithfully attended him can
testify how patiently he bore the wearisome days and nights
of increasing debility, and how considerate he was of others.
He had no acute bodily suffering, and his mind was in a
composed and heavenly frame, for thankfulness seemed to be
his habitual state of feeling. He died at half-past two o'clock
in the morning of the 20th December 1828.
His remains were attended to the grave by many faithful
friends. He was interred in the family burial-ground, on the
Calton Hill, on Wednesday the 24th of December 1828.
TO THE MEMORY OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER, ADVOCATE.
HE DEVOTED THE ENERGY
OF A VIGOROUS, BENEVOLENT, AND DISINTERESTED SPIRIT
TO THE CAUSE OF CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.
HE DIED DECEMBER 20TH, 1828,
AGED 82.
<Samb also to the cfttanorj) of his Daughter,
GRACE FLETCHER,
WHO DIED THE 16TH OF APRIL, 1817,
AGED 20.
BLESSED ARE THE PURE IK HEART,
FOR THEY SHALL SEE GOD.
376 MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER.
Extract from Lord Brougltam's Introduction on Burgh
Reform, relating to Archibald Fletcher s exertions in that
cause, in the Collected Edition of his Speeches.
" To both the state of its parliamentary and its municipal
constitution the attention of Scotland had, at different times
during a long course of years, been directed by some very able,
virtuous, and patriotic persons whose labours were unremitting
for the removal of the abuses thus pointed out and traced to
their source, and who, in the time of alarm that followed the
earlier scenes of the French Revolution, were fated to see
the fruit of their labours blighted long before it was ripe.
Among these eminent patriots the first place is due to
Archibald Fletcher, a learned, experienced, and industrious
lawyer, one of the most upright men that ever adorned the
profession, and a man of such stern and resolute firmness in
public principle as is very rarely found united with the
amiable character which endeared him to private society.
Devoted from his earliest youth to the cause of civil liberty,
his mind had become deeply imbued with a sense of the
corruption which had crept into our constitution and disfigured
its original excellence. His zeal for the maintenance of these
principles, and his anxiety for the renovation of British liberty,
were, if possible, still further excited by the matrimonial
union which he entered into with a lady of Whig family in
Yorkshire (one of the most accomplished of her sex, who, with
the utmost purity of life that can dignify and enhance female
charms, combined the inflexible principles and deep political
feeling of a Hutchinson or a Roland) ; and he devoted to the
great work of reforming the Scottish elective system, both as
regarded its parliamentary and municipal branches, every hour
which could be spared from the claims of his clients. The
proceedings in the Convention of Royal Burghs, the bills
introduced by the Crown lawyers for reforming the scheme
of their accounting, the motions for Scotch reform made by
Mr. Sheridan, were all intimately connected with his unremit-
ting and most useful labours, nor could anything but the
alarm raised by the deplorable turn of French affairs have pre-
vented some important measures, at least of Burgh Reform,
MEMOIR OF ARCHIBALD FLETCHER. 377
from being adopted nearly fifty years ago. Although his
life was protracted to the extreme period of the life of man,
he was not permitted to see the triumph of the cause to which
he had been devoted, and for which his latest prayers were
offered. "
THE END.
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