3*
Engraved "ty p Ldghtfbct ,
MEMOKIALS
,,.,..
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE,
fiEI/F.CTEI) AND ARRANGED
Jrom ^er Jfett^rs, Jtane, anbr otfjtt
BT
CECILIA LUCY BRIGHTWELL.
NORWICH :
FLETCHER AND ALEXANDER;
LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, & Co.
MDCCCLIV.
PREFACE.
IN the preparation of these Memoirs for publication, the
principal part of the labour has been undertaken by my
daughter; the pressure of other engagements having only
permitted me to undertake the general direction and super
vision of the whole.
As the Executor of Mrs. Opie, her papers and letters
came into my hands; and it devolved on me to decide
in what way to dispose of them. There had been, (I
believe,) a general impression among her friends, that she
would herself prepare an account of her Life; but although
she seems to have made some efforts at commencing the task,
and the subject was often affectionately recommended, and
even urged upon her, she has left it a matter of regret to her
friends, (and especially so to the compilers of these memoirs,)
that no " Autobiography" was found among her papers.
Nor did Mrs. Opie ever distinctly give any directions as to
the publication of her MSS. or any Memoir of her Life;
but we have, we think, strong presumptive evidence, that
she anticipated, if not desired, that it should be done.
IV PREFACE.
Not long before she died, she said, that her Executor
would have no light task with her papers; and a few days
before she breathed her last, when she could no longer hold
a pen, she called her attendant to her, and dictated a most
touching and affectionate farewell address, to me and my
daughter, directing the delivery of various small articles as
remembrances to a few most intimate friends, and requesting
us to complete what she had left undone; adding, that she
had confidence in our judgment, and believed that we should
" do everything for the best."
It has been with an earnest desire to justify this trust,
and to perfect, as far as in our power, that which she had,
in fact commenced, but left incomplete, that these pages have
been put to the press.
It will be seen, in the course of these Memoirs, that the
materials from which they are compiled, are principally
Papers, Letters, and Diaries, of Mrs. Opie s own writing;
a few Letters preserved by her, and judged to be of general
interest, and bearing upon her history, we have thought it
well to give. It would have been no difficult task, to have
greatly extended these Memoirs, had it been deemed ex
pedient to make a free use of the Letters received by her,
and of which a very large number were found among her
papers; but we have not felt ourselves at liberty to adopt
such a course, and we trust there will be found in this
Volume few (may we say we hope no) violations of private
and confidential communications.
PREFACE. V
My acquaintance with the subject of these Memoirs, com
menced nearly forty years ago ; and well do I remember the
first impressions made on me by her frank and open manner,
the charm of her fine and animated countenance, her artless
cheerfulness and benevolence, and the extraordinary powers
of her conversation. But it was not till the time of Dr.
Alderson s last illness, that my acquaintance with Mrs. Opie
ripened into confidential friendship. Prom that period to
the time of her decease, I had the happiness to enjoy much
of her society, and to hear her recollections of her earlier
days, and her graphic descriptions of the scenes and
characters, which had been subjects of interest to her during
the course of her long life; and she subsequently often read
me a large portion of the correspondence she continued to
maintain.
Gifted with an extraordinary memory, a reverence for
truth, extending even to the minutest details, a disposition
to look at the best side of everything and eveiybody, and
with almost dramatic power in the exhibition of character
and manners; Mrs. Opie when she entered into any details
of her former life, painted the whole scene with such truth
fulness and power, as to make it live before her hearers, and
fix it in their memory.
As an Author, her works have undergone the ordeal of
public criticism, and some additional testimony is afforded
by these Memoirs, to the favourable impression they made.
It will be seen that Sir Walter Scott, Dr. Chalmers, Southey,
and other men of note, alike agreed in paying their tribute
VI PREFACE.
of admiration to her power of touching the heart, and
awakening the softer passions.
The great leading feature of Mrs. Opie s character was
pure, Christian benevolence; charity in its highest sense.
None that knew her could fail to observe this. Unwearied in
her efforts to relieve the distresses of others, and limited in
her own means, she was almost ingenious in some of the
methods she devised for doing so, and made it matter of duty
to avail herself of her influence with her wealthier friends to
induce them to assist her endeavours. Her patience in
dealing with the incessant importunities of persons who
applied for her aid, was almost more than exemplary : but she
found a blessing in doing good ; and, in her parting address,
before alluded to, she has not failed to urge " the remem
brance of the poor, so as to be blessed by them."
Of her religion, the latter part of this Memoir will best
speak, and especially the short extracts from her private
Journals. These, speaking from the depths of her own
heart, shew how holily and humbly she walked before her
God ; how strictly she called herself to account day by day ;
and how firmly she relied on the atonement of the Lord
Jesus Christ as her hope in life and support in death.
Mrs. Opie had no liking for religious controversy, and
seemed to me always desirous of avoiding it. I believe
she disliked dogmatic theology altogether. Her religion
was the " shewing out of a good conversation her works,
with meekness of wisdom."
She ever deemed her union with " the Friends" the happiest
PREFACE. Vil
event of her life; and she did honour to her profession of
their principles, by shewing that they were not incompatible
with good manners and refined taste. She met with some
among them who have always appeared to me to come the
nearest to the standard of Christian perfection ; these were her
dearest friends on earth, and she is now., with them, numbered
among the blessed dead who have died in the Lord, who have
ceased from their labours, and whose works do follow them.
THOMAS BRIGHTWELL.
Norwich, May, 1854.
A SECOND EDITION of this work having been speedily called
for, the Author has found but little opportunity for making
additions to it, and the present is, therefore, excepting some
trifling omissions, and the introduction of a few additional
lines, simply a reprint of the former volume.
C. L. BRIGHTWELL.
Norwich, July, 1864.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Pago.
Birth and Parentage; her Father; her Mother s Family;
her Mother; Sonnet to her Mother s Memory; Early
Reminiscences ; Early Terrors and their Cure ; the Black
Man ; Crazy Women ; Bedlam ; Visits to the Inmates ;
Early Training ; the Female Sailor ; Abrupt Conclusion . 1
CHAPTER II.
First Sorrow; the Assizes; Sir Henry Gould; the Usury
Cause; "Christian;" Mr. Bruckner; Girlish Days ; her
Friendship with Mrs. Taylor; Mrs. T. s Memoir of her . 22
CHAPTER III.
Norfolk and Norwich, and their Inhabitants; Young Love;
the Drama ; Song writing and Cromer ; Politics ; Yisit to
London ; Letters from thence ; the Old Bailey Trials . . 34
CHAPTER IV.
French Emigrants ; Letter to Mrs. Taylor ; Letter of the
Duke d Aiguillon; Yisit to London and Letter from
thence ; London again ; Letter from Mrs. AYollstonecroft ;
First introduction to Mr. Opie ; Mr. Opie s early history ;
Return to Norwich ; Preparations for Marriage .... 51
CHAPTER V.
Marriage ; Early Menage ; Authorship ; Lay on portrait of
Mrs. Twiss; Letter to Mrs. Taylor; Yisit to Norwich;
Letter from Mr. Opie; Mrs. Opie to Mrs. Taylor;
Mr. Opie s Mother 68
X CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
Page.
"The Father and Daughter;" Critique in the Edinburgh;
three Letters to Mrs. Taylor; volume of "Poems;"
"Go, youth beloved;" Letter from Sir J. Mackintosh;
S. Smith s Lecture 79
CHAPTER VII.
The Trials of Genius; Domestic Troubles; Letters to Mrs.
Taylor; Journey to France; Arrival at Paris; the
Louvre; the First Consul; Charles James Fox; The
Soiree ; Kosciusko 91
CHAPTER VIII.
The Review and Buonaparte; "Fesch;" General Massena;
Return to England; Letter to Mrs. Colombine; Visit to
Norwich; "Adeline Mowbray;" Letter to Mrs. Taylor;
Mr. Erskine 108
CHAPTER IX.
Prosperity; " Simple Tales ;" Visit to Southill ; LadyRoslyn;
Mr. Opie a " Lectures ;" his Illness ; his Death . . . 125
CHAPTER X.
Return to Norwich; "Poems;" Memoir of her Husband;
Letter from Lady Charleville ; from Mrs. Inchbald ; Visit
to London ; Party at Lady E. Whi thread s ; Visit to
Cromer; "Temper;" " Tales of Real Life ;" Soiree at
Madame de Stael s 135
CHAPTER XI.
Letters of Mrs. Opie to Dr. Alderson, written during her visit
in London in the year 1814 146
CHAPTER XII.
Friendship with the Gurney family; two Letters from
Mr. J. J. Gurney; Death of his Brother; Mrs. Opie s
Return from London; Early Religious Opinions; Mrs.
Roberts; Recollections of Sir AV. Scott; Visit to Edin
burgh ; " Valentine s Eve ;" Visit to Mr. Hayley ; " Tales
of the Heart;" Letter to Mr. Hayley; Letter from
Mrs. Inchbald; her death 167
CONTENTS. XI
CHAPTER XIII.
Page.
Illness of Dr. Alderson; His Daughter s anxiety; Priscilla
Gurney ; Bible and A nti- Slavery Meetings ; " Madeline ; "
Letter from Southey; " Lying;" Letters to Mrs. Fry;
Mrs. Opie joins the Society of Friends; Dr. Alderson s
Decline and Death 183
CHAPTER XIY.
Consolation in Sorrow ; Letter to a Friend ; Journal for the
year 1827 197
CHAPTER XV.
Yearly Meetings ; Letter from London; Letters from Ladies
Cork and Charleville; Detraction Displayed;" Letter
from Archdeacon Wrangham ; Cromer; Diary for 1829 . 212
CHAPTER XYI.
Yisit to Paris; Journal during her Stay there; Letter from
thence; Return to England; Letter from Lafayette;
Sonnet "on seeing the Tricolor;" Southey s "Colloquies;"
Letter from Mrs. Fry ; " Nursing Sisters" 229
CHAPTER XYII.
Revolution of "the Three Days;" Mrs. Opie goes to Paris
again ; her Journal there 245
CHAPTER XVIII.
Letter on the Distribution of Prizes at the Catholic Schools ;
Continuation of Journal ; Letter giving an Account of her
Yisit to the French Court 264
CHAPTER XIX.
Influence of Christian Fellowship; Mrs. Opie Returns to
England; gives up Housekeeping; Journey into Cornwall;
Letters and Journal during her Residence there . . . 284
CHAPTER XX.
Return to JSTorwich ; Extracts from her Diary ; Dr. Chalmers
and Mrs. Opie at Earlham ; Lines addressed by Mrs. Opie
to Dr. Chalmers; " Lays for the Dead;" Yisit to London;
Journey to Scotland ; her Journal there ; The Highlands ;
her Yisit to Abbotsford ... 302
Xii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI. pagft
Journey to Belgium ; Visit to Ghent ; Journal of her Travels ;
Letter from the Rhine Falls ; Homeward Journey ; Arrival
at Calais 3!7
CHAPTER XXII.
Mrs. Opie s Removal to Lady s Lane; Letters, Visitors, and
Writing; Spring Assizes of 1838; Memoirs of Sir W.
Scott; Visits to London and Northrepps; Death of
Friends; Anti-Slavery Convention; Winter and Spring
of 1840-41 ; Visits to Town and Letters from thence in
1842-43 ; Illness ; Close of 1843 ; Letter of Reminiscences
of Thomas Hogg . 333
CHAPTER XXIII.
Death of Mr. Briggs; Summer Assizes, 1844; "Reminiscences
of Judges Courts ;" " Reminiscences of George Canning" 353
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Seventy-fifth year; Notes and Incidents in the years
1 845-46; Deaths of Mr. J. J. Gurney and of Dr. Chalmers;
Letter from Cromer; Death of Mrs. E. Alderson; Mrs.
Opie s Visit to London in the Spring of 1848; Letter
from thence 366
CHAPTER XXY.
The Castle Meadow house ; Indisposition ; Increase of Crime ;
Rush s Trial; Summer Assizes of 1849; Death of Bishop
Stanley; Summer and Autumn of 1850; Farewell Visit
to London; the Great Exhibition; Summer of 1852;
Rheumatic Gout ; Notes ; last Visit to Cromer ; the Spring
and Summer of 1853; Sudden Illness, October 23rd;
Patience and Cheerfulness; Increasing Sickness; Leave
Taking; Death 382
CONCLUSION 404
MEMORIALS-U.
OF THE
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE.
CHAPTER I.
BIETH AND PARENTAGE; HER FATHER; HER MOTHER S FAMILY; HER
MOTHER; SONNET TO HER MOTHER S MEMORY; EARLY REMINISCENCES;
EARLY TERRORS AND THEIR CURE ; THE BLACK MAN ; CRAZY WOMEN ;
BEDLAM; VISITS TO THE INMATES; EARLY TRAINING; THE FEMALE
SAILOR; ABRUPT CONCLUSION.
AMELIA OPIE, the only child of James Alderson,
M.D., and of Amelia, his wife, was born the 12th of
November, 1769, in the parish of St. George,
Norwich; she was baptized by the Rev. Samuel
Bourn, then the Presbyterian Minister of the
Octagon chapel, in that city. Her father was one
of a numerous family, the children of the Rev.
Mr. Alderson, of Lowestoft, of whom some account
is given in Gillingwater s History of that " ancient
town." From this we gather that 6 Mr. Alderson
was a very worthy, well-disposed man, of an ex
ceeding affable and peaceable disposition, much
esteemed by the whole circle of his acquaintance,
and, as he lived much respected, so he died
universally lamented." His death happened in 1760.
Xll CONTENTS.
CHAFFER XXI.
Page.
Journey to Belgium; Visit to Ghent; Journal of her Travels;
Letter from the llhine Falls ; Homeward Journey ; Arrival
at Calais 317
CHAPTER XXII.
Mrs. Opie s Removal to Lady s Lane ; Letters, Visitors, and
Wiiting; Spring Assizes of 1838; Memoirs of Sir W.
Scott; Visits to London and Northrepps; Death of
Friends; Anti- Slavery Convention; "Winter and Spring
of 1840-41; Visits to Town and Letters from thence in
1842-43 ; Illness; Close of 1843 ; Letter of Reminiscences
of Thomas Hogg 333
CHARTER XXIII.
Death of Mr. Briggs; Summer Assizes, 1844 ; "Reminiscences
of Judges Courts;" " Reminiscences of George Canning" 353
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Seventy-fifth year; Notes and Incidents in the years
1 845-46; Deaths of Mr. J. J. Gurney and of Dr. Chalmers;
Letter from Cromer; Death of Mrs. E. Alderson; Mrs.
Opie s Visit to London in the Spring of 1848; Letter
from thence 366
CHAPTER XXV.
The Castle Meadow house ; Indisposition ; Increase of Crime ;
Rush s Trial; Summer Assizes of 1849; Death of Bishop
Stanley; Summer and Autumn of 1850; Farewell Visit
to London; the Great Exhibition; Summer of 1852;
Rheumatic Gout ; Notes ; last Visit to Cromer ; the Spring
and Summer of 1853; Sudden Illness, October 23rd;
Patience and Cheerfulness ; Increasing Sickness ; Leave
Taking; Death 382
CONCLUSION 404
M E M E I AL-SA L ! : "0
OF THE
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE.
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND PARENTAGE; HER FATHER; HER MOTHER S FAMILY; HER
MOTHER; SONNET TO HER MOTHER S MEMORY; EARLY REMINISCENCES;
EARLY TERRORS AND THEIR CURE ; THE BLACK MAN ; CRAZY WOMEN ;
BEDLAM; VISITS TO THE INMATES; EARLY TRAINING; THE FEMALE
SAILOR; ABRUPT CONCLUSION.
AMELIA OPIE, the only child of James Alderson,
M.D., and of Amelia, his wife, was born the 12th of
November, 1769, in the parish of St. George,
Norwich; she was baptized by the Rev. Samuel
Bourn, then the Presbyterian Minister of the
Octagon chapel, in that city. Her father was one
of a numerous family, the children of the Rev.
Mr. Alderson, of Lowestoft, of whom some account
is given in Gilling water s History of that " ancient
town." From this we gather that " Mr. Alderson
was a very worthy, well-disposed man, of an ex
ceeding affable and peaceable disposition, much
esteemed by the whole circle of his acquaintance,
and, as he lived much respected, so he died
universally lamented." His death happened in 1760.
A MEMORIALS OF THE
In a note the following account of his family is added :
" Four sons and two daughters survive him ; the sons
are all distinguished for their industry and ability,
/.and are. emiprejit in their several professions; James,
ari emirierit* surgeon, at Norwich ; John, a physician,
: :#t JiiiH;;* : Trio*ma, > a merchant, at Newcastle; and
Robert, a barrister, at Norwich. Of the two
daughters, Judith is married to Mr. Woodhouse,
and Elizabeth unmarried."
This was written in 1790. Were the historian
now to add a supplementary notice, with how much
satisfaction would he record, that, in the third gene
ration, this family numbered among its descendants,
Amelia Opie and Sir E. H. Alderson; the former
the child of the eldest brother, the latter the son of
the youngest.
The tender attachment borne by Mrs. Opie to her
father was perhaps her most prominent characteristic.
They were companions and friends through life ; and
when, at length, in a good old age, he was taken
from her, she wept with a sorrow which no time
could obliterate, and for which there was no solace
but in the hope of rejoining him in a better world.
Deeply touching are the evidences of the love which
prompted her pen in its most successful efforts,
influenced her in all the steps she took throughout
her career, and rendered her indefatigable in cheer
ing and soothing him through the long years of his
declining age. Best of all, she was enabled to direct
his mind towards those great truths of the gospel,
which she had learned to love, and in which she
found her support, when the arm of her earthly
friend was about to relax its hold, and leave her
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 3
alone to pursue in solitude the remainder of her
pilgrimage.
Probably the early loss of the wife and mother
was one cause which drew more close the bond of
union between the " Father and Daughter." It
naturally followed that when, at the age of fifteen,
she took the head of her father s table, and the
management of his domestic arrangements, she should
endeavour, as much as possible, to supply the place
which had been left vacant, and that her young
affections should cling more fondly around her re
maining parent. There was also much in the father
calculated to draw to him the love of his child. He
was of fine person and attractive manners, and to
these external advantages was joined something
better and more enduring a kind-hearted and
generous sympathy for the sufferers whom his skill
relieved, and a charity to the poor, which induced him
freely to give them his valuable advice and assistance.
His daughter says, " He prescribed for about four or
five hundred persons at his house every week. The
forms in our large hall in a morning were so full from
half-past eight till eleven, that I could scarcely pass ;
and this he did till the end of the year 1820, or rather
perhaps to the beginning of 1821, when, unable to go
down-stairs, he received the people, at my earnest
desire, in my little drawing-room, till he said he could
receive no one again. Oh ! it was the most bitter
trial he or I ever experienced, when he was forced to
give up this truly Christian duty ; and I was obliged
to tell the afflicted poor people that their kind
physician was no longer well enough to open his
house to receive them, and try to heal their diseases
B 2
4 MEMORIALS OF THE
again. He wept, and so did I ; and they were bitter
tears, for I feared he would not long survive the loss
of his usefulness." Those acts of kindness are not
yet forgotten in his native city ; an aged woman, being
told the other day of the death of Mrs. Opie, recalled
to mind the days of her father, " the doctor," and the
time when he was " very good to the poor folks, that
is, he gaw n em his advice for nothing; and that
was a true charity, lady."
Mrs. Opie s mother, Amelia, was the daughter
of Joseph Briggs, of Cossambaza, up the Ganges,
(eldest son of Dr. Henry Briggs, rector of Holt,
Norfolk, and Grace, his wife,) and of Mary, daughter
of Captain Worrell, of St. Helena. In an old
pocket book, Mrs. Opie has entered the following
memoranda concerning this branch of her maternal
ancestors.
Account of my great, great, great grandfather, Augustine
Briggs, M.P., for Norwich. (From the pedigree of the
Briggs in Blomefield s " History of Norfolk.") An ancient
family of Salle, in Norfolk, who before the reign of Edward
the First assumed the surname of De Ponte, or Pontibus,
i.e. at Brigge or Brigges ; as the ancient family of the Foun-
taines of the same place assumed theirs, of De Fonte or
Fontibus, much about the same time, one we presume dwell
ing by the bridge or bridges, the other by the springs or
fountains heads. The eldest branch of both families con
tinued in Salle till they united in one. William Atte Brigge,
of Salle, called in some deeds W. de Fonte de Salle, was
living at Salle in 1334. John Atte Brigge, his second son,
was alive in 1385. Thomas Brigge, of Holt, the fourth
brother, was alive in 1400; and, in 1392, went to the Holy
Sepulchre of our Lord, an account of which pilgrimage
written by himself is still extant, in a manuscript in Caius
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 5
College Library. Augustine Briggs, mayor, alderman, and
member for Norwich in four Parliaments, was turned out of
the Corporation by the rebels, and restored at the king s
restoration. He joined the Earl of Newcastle s forces at the
siege of Lynn, in 1643. There is a long sword in the family,
with a label in Augustine Briggs own hand writing tied to
it. " This I wore at the siege of Linn, in the servis of the
royal martyr, K. Charles ye First, A. Briggs." He lies
buried in a vault in the church of St. Peter s Mancroft, built
by himself, but he alone of the family lies there. It has
been since appropriated by the Dean and Chapter to another
family, as it was supposed no one was alive to claim it ; but
I, A. Opie, am the lineal descendant and representative of
this excellent man, and the vault was my property. The
following is a translation of part of the Latin inscription on
his mural monument in St. Peter s church : f< He was
indeed highly loyal to his king, and yet a studious preserver
of the ancient privileges of his country; was also firm
and resolute for upholding the Church of England, and
assiduous and punctual in all the important trusts committed
to him, whether in the august assembly of Parliament, his
honourable commands in the militia, or his justiciary affairs
on the bench: gaining the affections of the people by his
hospitality and repeated acts of kindness, which he continued
beyond his death, leaving the following charities by his will,
as a more certain remembrance to posterity, than this
perishing monument erected by his friends, which his
posterity endeavours by this plate to continue to further
ages." He died in 1684, aged 67. He lived in the Briggs
Lane, called after him, which lane is now (1839) widening,
and is to be called D Oyley Street, a proper tribute of respect
to the public spirited individual who subscribed 1600 to
further this improvement.*
Augustine Briggs was also a public benefactor to this, his
native city, for he left "estates and monies to increase the
* Eor aU that it is Briggs Street still ! Ed.
MEMORIALS OF THE
revenue of the Boys and Girls Hospital, and for putting
out two poor boys to trades every year, as can read and write,
and have neither father nor mother to put them forth to such
trades." My cousin, Henry Perronet Briggs, K.A.,* his
male representative, has a very fine picture of him, a half-
length, in his military dress, painted, he believes, by a pupil
of Vandyke. I have a tolerably good three-quarter picture
of him,f Amelia Opie. I have also a portrait of his
daughter-in-law, Hannah Hobart, heiress of Edmund Hobart,
son of the Lord Chief Justice Hobart, afterwards ennobled,
and wife of Dr. W. Briggs, M.D., of the University of
Cambridge, a man of great science and learning, and an
eminent physician.
******
Of the mother of Mrs. Opie but few memorials
remain. She was of a delicate constitution, and
appears to have cherished the habits of retirement, so
naturally preferred by an invalid. Her early death
bereaved her daughter of a mother s care and
guidance at the most critical period of woman s life ;
and we may perhaps trace some features of Mrs. Opie s
character to this event. From the occasional glimpses
we catch of the mother in her daughter s short record
of her own early days, it is evident that she was
possessed of firm purpose and high principle ; a true-
hearted woman, and somewhat of a disciplinarian.
Her steady hand would have curbed the high
spirit of her child, and softened those ebullitions of
youthful glee, which made the young Amelia such
an impetuous, mirthful creature: she would have
* Since deceased.
f This portrait is the first of those which she apostrophizes in
her " Lays for the Dead," and begins
" There hangs a Soldier in a distant age,
Call (1 to his doom my honour d ancestor."
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 7
been more demure and decorous had her mother
lived, but perhaps less charming and attractive.
Speedily as the mother s influence was withdrawn, it
left, notwithstanding, some indelible traces in the
memory of her daughter, who frequently referred to
her, even in her latter days, and usually with refer
ence to Some bad habit from which she had warned
her, or some good one which she had inculcated.
Mrs. Alderson died on the 31st of December, 1784,
in the 39th year of her age.
A series of Letters referring to the death of Mr.
Joseph Briggs and his wife, and the transfer of their
little orphan daughter to England, still exist. They
are principally written by Mr. William Briggs, the
second son of Dr. Henry Briggs, who having died in
1748, (just about the time of his eldest son s decease
in India,) the family affairs were committed to the
care of his next surviving son. He writes thus :
Several years ago my elder brother, Joseph Briggs, went
over to Bengal as a writer in the Company s service; he
married Miss Mary Worrell; he died in May, 1747, and his
widow in the December following ; leaving behind one child,
Amelia. Captain James Irwin, out of friendship to my
brother, took care of his little daughter after the death of her
mamma. The latter end of May, 1749, the child arrived
here in England, and is now in perfect health.
To this kind friend of the orphan, Captain Irwin,
the grateful uncle writes :
London, August 23rd, 1749.
Worthy sir, your letter of December 24th, 1748, and my
very dear niece, Amelia Briggs, came safe to England the
8 MEMORIALS OF THE
latter end of May last, praised be God ! My honoured
father dying in May 1748, yours to him came to me with
one directed for myself, in both which you give very un
common proofs of real friendship. Friendship in prosperity is
common; but in adversity none are true friends but the
pious.
Your great care of my niece has given very sensible
pleasure to all her relations, and all unite with me to return
you sincere and hearty thanks ; at present we can only ex
press our gratitude in words, but should you ever be pleased
to give us an opportunity, I doubt not but you will find us
ready to testify our thanks by useful deeds. I believe you
will meet with a reward more substantial and durable from
our gracious God.
My very great affection for my dear brother Joseph
naturally leads me to love and care for the little orphan as if
it was my own. She will never want whilst I have it in my
power to assist her. She will be a burden to none of her
relations ; for, before she will have any occasion for it, she will
be in possession of a very handsome annuity. At present
she is with my mother in Norfolk, one hundred miles from
London. She is a charming child, and the country agrees
very well with her. The black girl, her nurse, is not re
conciled to England ; and, thinking she never shall be so, she
is determined to return to Bengal by the Christmas ships.
As my mother will give her entire liberty to be at her own
disposal, I believe her design is to enter into service, as other
free women do. If it be in your power, you are very much
desired by all my niece s friends to prevent Savannah s being
bought or sold as a negro.
May the God of all grace and consolation keep and bless
you, dear sir, and all your family, with everything necessary
to make your short passage easy and agreeable through time
into a happy eternity, is the sincere wish and prayer of,
Dear Sir,
Your most obliged humble servant,
W. B.
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 9
Seven years after her mother s death, (1791,) she
addressed to her memory the following sonnet.
ON VISITING -CROMER FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE DEATH
OF MY MOTHER, WITH WHOM I USED FREQUENTLY TO VISIT IT.
Scenes of my childhood, where, to grief unknown,
And, led by Gaiety, I joy d to rove,
Ere in my breast Care fix d her ebon throne,
And her pale rue, with Fancy s roses wove.
~No more, alas ! your wonted charms I view,
Ye speak of comforts I can know no more ;
The faded tints of Memory ye renew,
And wake of fond regret the tearful power.
But would ye bid me still the beauties prize
That on your cliff-crowned shores in state abide,
Bid, aim d in awful pomp, yon billows rise
And seek the realms where Night and Death reside ;
Unusual empire bid them there assume,
And force departed goodness from the tomb !
Many years after, among her " Lays for the Dead,"
appeared some further lines dedicated to her mother,
and, as they have several references to the recollections
she retained of her, and are in themselves very sweet
and full of earnest tenderness of regret, they are
reprinted here :
IN MEMORY OF MY MOTHER.
AN orphan d babe, from India s plain
She came, a faithful slave her guide !
Then, after years of patient pain,
That tender wife and mother died.
Where gothic windows dimly throw
O er the long aisles a dubious day,
Within the time-worn vaults below
Her relics join their kindred clay
10 MEMORIALS OF THE
And I, in long departed days,
Those dear though solemn precincts sought,
When evening shed her parting rays,
And twilight lengthening shadows brought-
There long I knelt beside the stone
Which veils thy clay, lamented shade !
While memory, years for ever gone,
And all the distant past pourtray d !
I saw thy glance of tender love !
Thy cheek of suffering s sickly hue !
Thine eye, where gentle sweetness strove
To look the ease it rarely knew.
I heard thee speak in accents kind,
And promptly praise, or firmly chide ;
Again admir d that vigorous mind
Of power to charm, reprove, and guide.
Hark ! clearer still thy voice I hear !
Again reproof, in accents mild,
Seems whispering in my conscious ear,
And pains, yet soothes, thy kneeling child !
Then, while my eyes I weeping raise,
Again thy shadowy form appears ;
I see the smile of other days,
The frown that melted soon in tears !
Again I m exiled from thy sight,
Alone my rebel will to mourn ;
Again I feel the dear delight
When told I may to thee return !
But oh ! too soon the vision fled,
With all of grief and joy it brought ;
And as I slowly left the dead,
And gayer scenes, still musing sought,
Oh ! how I mourn d my heedless youth
Thy watchful care repaid so ill,
Yet joy d to think some words of truth
Sunk in my soul, and teach me still ;
Like lamps along life s fearful way
To me, at times, those truths have shone,
And oft, when snares around me lay,
That light has made the danger known.
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 11
Then, how thy grateful child has blest
Each wise reproof thy accents bore !
And now she longs, in worlds of rest,
To dwell with thee for evermore !
Mrs. Opie evidently designed, at one time, to write
a record of the most interesting events of her life;
she commenced the task, but abruptly broke off when
she reached the age of early youth. This interesting
fragment was clearly written at a late period of her
life, it commences thus :
" Ce rfest que le premier pas qui coute" says the proverb,
and when I have once begun to put down my recollections of
days that are gone, with a view to their meeting other eyes
besides my own, the difficulty of the task will, I trust,
gradually disappear.
But I should be afraid that my garrulities, as I may call
them, would not be so interesting to others as I have thought
they might be, had I not observed such a hunger and thirst
in the world in general for anecdotes, whether biographical
or otherwise, and had I not experienced, and seen others
evince, such interest and amusement while reading of persons
and things; and I am thus encouraged to record my
recollections of those distinguished persons with whom I
have had the privilege of associating, from my youth upwards,
to the present day. Therefore, without further delay or
apology, I mean to relate a few " passages" in my very early
days, in order to make my readers acquainted with the
preparation for my future life and occupations, which these
days so evidently afforded.
One of my earliest recollections is of gazing on the bright
blue sky as I lay in my little bed, before my hour of rising
came, and listening with delighted attention to the ringing of
a peal of bells. I had heard that heaven was beyond those
blue skies, and I had been taught that there was the home of
12 MEMORIALS OF THE
the good, and I fancied that those sweet bells were ringing
in heaven. What a happy error ! Neither illusion nor
reality, at any subsequent period of my life, ever gave me
such a sensation of pure, heartfelt delight, as I experienced
when morning after morning I looked on that blue sky, and
listened to those bells, and fancied that I heard the music of
the home of the blest, pealing from the dwelling of the most
high. Well do I remember the excessive mortification I felt
when I was told the truth, and had the nature of bells
explained to me ; and, though I have since had to awake often
from illusions that were dear to my heart, I am sure that I
never woke from one with more pain than I experienced
when forced to forego this sweet illusion of my imaginative
childhood.
I believe I was naturally a fearful child, perhaps more so
than other children ; but I was not allowed to remain so.
Well do I remember the fears, which I used to indulge and
prove by tears and screams, whenever I saw the objects that
called forth my alarm. The first was terror of black beetles,
the second of frogs, the third of skeletons, the fourth of a
black man, and the fifth of madmen.
My mother, who was as firm from principle, as she was
gentle in disposition, in order to cure me of my first fear,
made me take a beetle in my hand, and so convince myself it
would not hurt me. As her word was law, I obeyed her,
though with a shrinking frame ; but the point was carried,
and when, as frequently happened, I was told to take up a
beetle and put it out of the way of being trodden upon, I
learnt to forget even my former fear.
She pursued the same course in order to cure me of
screaming at sight of a frog ; I was forced to hold one in my
hand, and thence I became, perhaps, proud of my courage to
handle what my playfellows dared not touch.
The skeleton of which I was afraid was that of a girl,
black, probably, from the preparation it had undergone ; be
that as it may, I was induced to take it on my lap and
examine it, and at last, calling it my black doll, I used to
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 13
exhibit it to my wondering and alarmed companions. Here
was vanity again perhaps.
The African of whom I was so terribly afraid was the
footman of a rich merchant from Rotterdam, who lived
opposite our house ; and, as he was fond of children, Aboar
(as he was called) used to come up to speak to little missey
as I stood at the door in my nurse s arms, a civility which I
received with screams, and tears, and kicks. But as soon as
my parents heard of this ill behaviour, they resolved to put
a stop to it, and missey was forced to shake hands with the
black the next time he approached her, and thenceforward
we were very good friends. Nor did they fail to make me
acquainted with negro history ; as soon as I was able to
understand, I was shewn on the map where their native
country was situated; I was told the sad tale of negro
wrongs and negro slavery; and I believe that my early
and ever-increasing zeal in the cause of emancipation was
founded and fostered by the kindly emotions which I was
encouraged to feel for my friend Aboar and all his race.
The fifth terror was excited by two poor women who lived
near us, and were both deranged though in different degree.
The one was called Cousin Betty, a common name for female
lunatics ; the other, who had been dismissed from bedlam as
incurable, called herself " Old Happiness," and went by that
name. These poor women lived near us, and passed by our
door every day ; consequently I often saw them when I went
out with my nurse, and whether it was that I had been told
by her, when naughty, that the mad woman should get me, I
know not ; but certain it is, that these poor visited creatures
were to me objects of such terror, that when I saw them
coming (followed usually by hooting boys) I used to run
away to hide myself. But as soon as my mother was aware
of this terror she resolved to conquer it, and I was led by
her to the door the next time one of these women was in
sight; nor was I allowed to stir till I had heard her kindly
converse with the poor afflicted one, and then I was
commissioned to put a piece of money into her hand. I had
14 MEMORIALS OF THE
to undergo the same process with the other woman ; but she
tried my nerves more than the preceding one, for she insisted
on shaking hands with me, a contact not very pleasing to
me: however, the fear was in a measure conquered, and a
feeling of deep interest, not unmixed with awe, was excited
in my mind, not only towards these women, but towards
insane persons in general ; a feeling that has never left me,
and which, in very early life, I gratified in the following
manner :
When able to walk in the street with my beloved parents,
they sometimes passed the city asylum for lunatics, called
the bedlam, and we used to stop before the iron gates,
and see the inmates very often at the windows, who would
occasionally ask us to throw halfpence over the wall to buy
snuff. Not long after I had discovered the existence of this
interesting receptacle, I found my way to it alone, and took
care to shew a penny in my fingers, that I might be asked for
it, and told where to throw it. A customer soon appeared at
one of the windows, in the person of a man named Goodings,
and he begged me to throw it over the door of the wall of
the ground in which they walked, and he would come to
catch it. Eagerly did I run to that door, but never can I
forget the terror and the trembling which seized my whole
frame, when, as I stood listening for my mad friend at the
door,. I heard the clanking of his chain ! nay, such was my
alarm, that, though a strong door was between us, I felt
inclined to run away ; but better feelings got the mastery,
and I threw the money over the door, scarcely staying to
hear him say he had found the penny, and that he blessed the
giver. I fully believe that I felt myself raised in the scale of
existence by this action, and some of my happiest moments
were those when I visited the gates of bedlam ; and so often
did I go, that I became well known to its inmates, and I
have heard them say, " Oil ! there is the little girl from
St. George s" (the parish in which I then lived.) At this
time my mother used to send me to shops to purchase trifling
articles, and chiefly at a shop at some distance from the
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 15
bedlam, which was as far again from my home. But, when
my mother used to ask me where I had been, that I had been
gone so long, the reply was, " I only went round by bedlam,
mamma."
But I did not confine my gifts to pence. Much of my
weekly allowance was spent in buying pinks and other flowers
for my friend Goodings, who happened to admire a nosegay
which he saw me w^ear ; and as my parents were not inclined
to rebuke me for spending my money on others, rather than
on myself, I was allowed for some time to indulge in this way
the interests which early circumstances, those circumstances
which always give the bias to the character through life, had
led me to feel in beings whom it had pleased the Almighty
to deprive of their reason. At this period, and when my
attachment to this species of human woe was at its height, a
friend of ours hired a house which looked into the ground
named before, and my father asked the gentleman to allow
me to stand at one of the windows, and see the lunatics walk.
Leave was granted and I hastened to my post, and as the
window was open I could talk with Goodings and the others ;
but my feelings were soon more forcibly interested by an
unseen lunatic, who had, they told me, been crossed in love,
and who, in the cell opposite my window, sang song after
song in a voice which I thought very charming.
But I do not remember to have been allowed the indulgence
of standing at this window more than twice. I believe my
parents thought the excitement was an unsafe one, as I was
constantly talking of what I had said to the mad folks, and
they to me ; and it was so evident that I was proud of their
acquaintance, and of my own attachment to them, that I was
admonished not to go so often to the gates of the bedlam;
and dancing and French school soon gave another turn to my
thoughts, and excited in me other views and feelings. Still,
the sight of a lunatic gave me a fearful pleasure, which
nothing else excited ; and when, as youth advanced, I knew
that loss of reason accompanied distressed circumstances, I
know that I was doubly eager to administer to the pecuniary
16 MEMORIALS OP THE
wants of those who were awaiting their appointed time in
madness as well as poverty. Yet, notwithstanding, I could not
divest myself entirely of fear of these objects of my pity ;
and it was with a beating heart that, after some hesitation,
I consented to accompany two gentlemen, dear friends of
mine, on a visit to the interior of the bedlam. One of my
companions was a man of warm feelings and lively fancy, and
he had pictured to himself the unfortunate beings, whom we
were going to visit, as victims of their sensibility, and as
likely to express by their countenances and words the fatal
sorrows of their hearts ; and I was young enough to share in
his anticipations, having, as yet, considered madness not as
occasioned by some physical derangement, but as the result, in
most cases, of moral causes. But our romance was sadly
disappointed, for we beheld no "eye in a fine phrensy rolling,"
no interesting expression of sentimental woe, sufficient to raise
its victims above the lowly walk of life in which they had
always moved ; and I, though I knew that the servant of a
friend of mine was in the bedlam who had been "crazed by
hopeless love," yet could not find out, amongst the many
figures that glided by me, or bent over the winter fire, a single
woman who looked like the victim of the tender passion.
The only woman, who had aught interesting about her, was
a poor girl, just arrived, whose hair was not yet cut off, and
who, seated on the bed in her new cell, had torn off her cap,
and had let the dark tresses fall over her shoulders in
picturesque confusion ! This pleased me ; and I was still
more convinced I had found what I sought, when, on being
told to lie down and sleep, she put her hand to her evidently
aching head, as she exclaimed, in a mournful voice, " Sleep !
oh, I cannot sleep ! " The wish to question this poor sufferer
being repressed by respectful pity, we hastened away to
other cells, in which were patients confined in their beds ;
with one of these women I conversed a little while, and then
continued our mournful visits. " But where (said I to the
keeper) is the servant of a friend of mine (naming the patient)
who is here because she was deserted by her lover?" "You
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 17
have just left her," said the man. " Indeed," replied I, and
hastened eagerly back to the cell I had quitted. I imme
diately began to talk to her of her mistress and the children,
and called her by her name, but she would not reply. I then
asked her if she would like money to buy snuff ? " Thank
you," she replied. " Then give me your hand." " No, you
must lay the money on my pillow." Accordingly I drew
near, when, just as I reached her, she uttered a screaming
laugh, so loud, so horrible, so unearthly, that I dropped the
pence, and rushing from the cell, never stopped till I found
myself with my friends, who had themselves been startled by
the noise, and were coming in search of me. I was now
eager to leave the place ; but I had seen, and lingered behind
still, to gaze upon a man whom I had observed from the open
door at which I stood, pacing up and down the wintry walk,
but who at length saw me earnestly beholding him! He
started, fixed his eyes on me with a look full of mournful
expression, and never removed them till I, reluctantly I own,
had followed my companions. What a world of woe was,
as I fancied, in that look ! Perhaps I resembled some one
dear to him! Perhaps but it were idle to give all the
perhapses of romantic sixteen resolved to find in bedlam what
she thought ought to be there of the sentimental, if it were
not. However, that poor man and his expression never left
my memory ; and I thought of him when, at a later period,
I attempted to paint the feelings I imputed to him in the
" Father and Daughter."
On the whole, we came away disappointed, from having
formed false ideas of the nature of the infliction which we had
gone to contemplate. I have since then seen madness in
many different asylums, but I was never disappointed again.
Faithful to the views with which I began this little sketch
of my childhood and my early youth, I will here relate a
circumstance which was romantic enough to add fresh fuel to
whatever I had already of romance in my composition ; and
therefore is another proof that, from the earliest circumstances
with which human beings are surrounded, the character takes
18 MEMORIALS OF THE
its colouring through life. Phrenologists watch certain
bumps on the head, indicative, they say, of certain propensities,
and assert that parents have a power to counteract, by culti
vation, the bad propensities, and to increase the good. This
may be a surer way of going to work ; but, as yet, the truth
of their theory is not generally acknowledged. In the
meanwhile, I would impress on others what I am fully sen
sible of myself; namely, that the attention of parents and
instructors should be incessantly directed to watching over
the very earliest dispositions and tastes of their children or
pupils, because, as far as depends on mere human teaching,
whatever they are in disposition and pursuit in the earliest
dawn of existence, they will probably be in its meridian and
its decline.
When I was scarcely yet in my teens, a highly respected
friend of mine, a member of the Society of Friends, informed
me that she had a curious story to relate to me and her
niece, my favourite friend and companion ; she told us that
her husband had received a letter from a friend at Lynn,
recommending to his kindness a young man, named William
Henry Renny, who was a sailor, just come on shore from a
distant part, and wanted some assistance on his way (I think)
to London. My friend, who was ever ready to lend his aid
when needed, and was sure his correspondent would not have
required it for one unworthy, received the young man kindly,
and ordered him refreshments in the servants hall ; and, as
I believe, prepared for him a bed in his own house. But
before the evening came, my friend had observed something
in the young man s manner which he did not like ; he was
too familiar towards the servants, and certainly did not seem
a proper inmate for the family of a Friend. At length, in
consequence of hints given him by some one in the family,
he called the stranger into his study, and expressed his
vexation at learning that his conduct had not been quite
correct. The young man listened respectfully to the deserved
rebuke, but with great agitation and considerable excite
ment, occasioned perhaps, as my candid friend thought,
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 19
by better meals than he had been used to, and which was
therefore a sort of excuse for his behaviour; but little
was my friend prepared for the disclosure that awaited him.
Falling on his knees, the young man, with clasped band?,
conjured his hearer to forgive him the imposition he had
practised. " Oh, sir," cried he, " I am an impostor, my name
is not William Henry K. but Anna Maria Real, I am not a
man, but a woman !" Such a confession would have astounded
any one ; judge then how it must have affected the correct
man whom she addressed ! who certainly did not let the
woman remain in her abject position, but desired immediately
to hear a true account of who and what she was. She said,
that her lover, when very young, had left her to go to sea,
and that she resolved to follow him to Russia, whither he
was bound ; that she did follow him, disguised as a sailor,
and had worked out her passage undetected. She found
her lover dead, but she liked a sailor s life so well, that she
had continued in the service up to that time, when (for some
reason which I have forgotten) she left the ship, and came
ashore at Lynn, not meaning to return to it, but to resume
the garb of her sex. On this latter condition, my friend and
his wife were willing to assist her, and endeavour to effect a
reformation in her. The first step was to procure her a
lodging that evening, and to prevent her being seen,
as much as they could, before she had put on woman s
clothes. Accordingly, she was sent to lodgings, and in
quiries into the truth of her story were instituted at Lynn
and elsewhere.
But what an interesting tale was this for me, a Miss
just entered into her teens ! Of a female soldier s adventures
I had some years previously heard, and once had seen
Hannah Snelling, a native of Norfolk, who had followed her
lover to the wars. Here was a female sailor added to my
experience. Every opportunity of hearing any subsequent
detail was eagerly seized. What a romantic incident ! The
romance of real life too ! How I wanted to see the heroine ;
and I was rather mortified that my sober-minded friend
c 2
20 MEMORIALS OF THE
would not describe her features to me. Might I (I asked)
be at last allowed to see her? and as my parents gave leave,
I, accompanied by a young friend, called at the adventurer s
lodgings, who was at home ! Yes, she was at home, and
to our great consternation we found her in men s clothes
still, and working at a trade which she had acquired on board
ship, the trade of a tailor ! Nor did she leave off though we
were her guests, but went on stitching and pulling with most
ugly diligence, though ever and anon casting her large, dark,
and really beautiful, though fierce eyes, over our disturbed and
wondering countenances, silently awaiting to hear why we
came. We found it difficult to give a reason, as her appear
ance and employment so totally extinguished any thing like
sentiment in our young hearts, upon this occasion. However,
we broke the ice at last, and she told us something of her
story ; which, however touching in the beginning, as that of a
disguise and an enterprize prompted by youthful love, became
utterly offensive when persisted in after the original motives
for it had ceased. Her manner too was not pleasant : I wore a
gold watch in my girdle, with a smart chain and seals, and
the coveting eye with which she gazed, and at length
clapped her hand upon them, begging to see them near,
gave me a feeling of distaste ; and, as I watched her almost
terrible eyes, I fancied that they indicated a deranged mind ;
therefore, hastening to give her the money which I had
brought for her, I took my leave, with my friend, resolving
not to visit her again. Out of respect to our friends, she
went to the Friends meeting with them, and they were
pleased to see her there in her woman s attire ; but when she
walked away, with the long strides and bold seeming of a
man, it was anything rather than satisfactory, to observe her.
I once saw her walk, and though this romance of real life
occupied the minds of my young friend and myself, and was
afterwards discussed by us, still the actress in it was be
coming, justly, an object with whom we should have loathed
any intercourse.
I do not recollect how long she remained under the care
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 1
of my excellent friends, but I think much of her story was
authenticated by the answers to the inquiries made. All
that I know with certainty is, that a collection of wild
beasts came to town, the showman of which turned out to be
Maria Real s husband, and with him she left Norwich !
* # # * * *
Thus abruptly does Mrs. Opie s narrative of her
early days break off. Had she turned the next leaf
in that history it must have been to record her first
sorrow.
22 MEMORIALS OF THE
CHAPTER II.
FIRST SORROW ; THE ASSIZES , SIR HENRY GOULD ; THE USURY CAUSE ;
"CHRISTIAN;" MR. BRUCKNER; GIRLISH DAYS; HER FRIENDSHIP
WITH MRS. TAYLOR; MRS. T. S MEMOIR OF HER.
IN one of his letters to a friend, Southey remarks :
" Few autobiographies proceed much beyond the stage of
boyhood. So far all our recollections of childhood and
adolescence, though they call up tender thoughts, excite none
of the deeper feeling with which we look back upon the time
of life when wounds heal slowly, and losses are irreparable.
This is, no doubt, the reason why so many persons who have
begun to write their own lives have stopped short when they
got through the chapter of their youth."
The poet elsewhere observes, that the wounded
spirit, which shrinks from such a record of past griefs,
finds solace in breathing out its regret in the tender
strains of verse. And so it was in the present
instance. The loss of her mother was deplored in
pathetic numbers ; and no other record of this event
is given.
Another passage in the history of her earlier
days is found in her note book, a few pages after
the former, shewing how early she manifested a
predilection, in the gratification of which she found so
much enjoyment in after life. It should be mentioned
before we proceed further, that the house in which
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 23
Mrs. Opie was born was situated in Calvert Street,
immediately opposite a handsome mansion, once the
residence of an individual of note in his day, and after
whom the street was named. This house Dr. Alderson
afterwards inhabited for some years ; but in the
interim, he removed from the one in which his daughter
was born, to another, opposite St. George s church,
and in which they were living at the time referred to
in the following pages :
To a girl fond of excitement it will easily be believed that
the time of Assizes was one of great interest. As soon as I
was old enough to enjoy a procession, I was taken to see the
judges come in; and, as youthful pages in pretty dresses ran,
at that time of day, by the side of the high sheriff s carriage
in which the judges sat, w 7 hile the coaches drove slowly, and
with a solemnity becoming the high and awful office of those
whom they contained, it was a sight which I, the older I
grew, delighted more and more to witness : with reverence
ever did I behold the judges wigs, the scarlet robes they wore,
and even the white wand of the sheriff had an imposing
effect on me.
As years advanced, I began to wish to enter the assize
court ; and as soon as I found that ladies were allowed to
attend trials, or causes, I was not satisfied till 1 had obtained
leave to enjoy this indulgence. Accordingly some one kindly
undertook to go with me, and I set off for court : it was to
the nisi prius court that I bent my way, for I could not bear
the thoughts of hearing prisoners tried, as the punishment of
death was then in all its force ; but I was glad to find myself
hearing counsel plead and judges speak where I had no reason
to apprehend any fearful consequences to the defendants.
By some lucky chance I also soon found myself on the bench,
by the side of the judge. Although I could not divest
myself of a degree of awful respect when I had reached such
a vicinity, it was so advantageous a position for hearing and
MEMORIALS OF THE
seeing, that I was soon reconciled to it, especially as the good
old man, who sat then as judge, seemed to regard my fixed
attention to what was going forward with some complacency.
Sir Henry Gould was the judge then presiding, and he was
already on the verge of eighty ; but the fire of his fine eye
was not quenched by age, nor had his intellect as yet bowed
before it ; on the contrary, he is said while in Norwich to
have delivered a charge to the jury, after a trial that had
lasted far into the night, in a manner that would have done
credit to the youngest judge on the bench.
This handsome and venerable old man, surprised probably
at seeing so young a listener by his side, was so kind at last
as to enter into conversation with me. Never, I think, had
my vanity been so gratified, and when, on my being forced to
leave the court, by the arrival of my dinner hour, he said he
hoped I was sufficiently pleased to come again, I went home
much raised in my own estimation, and fully resolved to go
into court again next day. As I was obliged to go alone, I
took care to wear the same dress as I wore the preceding day,
in hopes that if the judge saw me he would cause way to be
made for me. But being obliged to go in at a door where the
crowd was very great, I had little hopes of being seen, though
the door fronted the judge ; at last I was pushed forward by
the crowd, and gradually got nearer to the table. While thus
struggling with obstacles, a man, not quite in the grade of a
gentleman, pushed me back rather rudely, and said, " there
miss, go home you had better go away, what business have
you here ? this is no place for you ; be advised there go, I
tell you ! " But miss was obstinate and stood her ground,
turning as she did so towards the judge, who now perceived
and recognized her, and instantly ordered one of the servants
of the court to make way for that young lady ; accordingly
way was made, and at his desire I took my place again by the
judge s side. It was not in nature, at least not in my weak
nature, to resist casting a triumphant glance on my imperti
nent reprover, and I had the satisfaction of seeing that he
looked rather foolish. I do not remember that on either of
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 25
these days I heard any very interesting causes tried, but I had
acquaintances amongst the barristers, and I liked to hear them
plead, and I also liked to hear the judge sum up : in short,
all was new, exciting, and interesting. But I disliked to hear
the witnesses sworn. I was shocked at the very irreverent
manner in which the oath was administered and repeated ;
and evidently the Great Name was spoken with as much levity
as if it had been merely that of a brother mortal, not the
name of the great King of kings. This was the drawback to
my pleasure, but not a sufficient one to keep me from my now
accustomed post, and a third time, but early enough to have
my choice of places, I repaired to court, and seated myself
near the extremity of the bench, hoping to be called to my
accustomed seat when my venerable friend arrived. It was
expected that the court would be that day crowded to excess,
for the cause coming on was one of the deepest interest.
One of our richest and oldest aldermen was going to be
proceeded against for usury, and the principal witness against
him was a gentleman who owed him considerable obligation.
The prosecutor was unknown to me ; the witness named
above I knew sufficiently to bow to him as he passed our house,
which he did every day ; and he was reckoned a worthy and
honourable man. These circumstances gave me an eager
desire to be a witness of the proceedings, and I was gratified
at being able to answer some questions which the judge asked
me when, as before, he had beckoned me to sit by him.
The cause at length began, and it was so interesting that
I listened with almost breathless attention, feeling, for the
first time, what deep and agitating interest a court of justice
can sometimes excite, and what a fearful picture it can hold
up to the young of human depravity ; for, as this cause went
on, the witness for the accused, and the witness for the
accuser, both swore in direct opposition to each other ! One
of them therefore was undoubtedly perjured ! and I had
witnessed the commission of this awful crime !
Never shall I forget that moment ; as it seemed very soon
to be the general conclusion, that my acquaintance was the
26 MEMORIALS OF THE
person perjured. I felt a pain wholly unknown before, and
though I rejoiced that my friend, the accused, was declared
wholly innocent of the charge brought against him, I was
indeed sorry that I should never be able to salute my old
acquaintance with sucl cordiality in future, when he passed
my window, as this stain rested on his reputation ; but that
window he was never to pass again !
The next morning before I was up, (for beginning influenza
confined me to my bed,) the servant ran into the room to
inform me that poor had been found dead in his bed,
with strong suspicions of suicide by poison !
Instantly I dressed myself, forgetting my illness, and went in
search of more information. Well do I remember the ghastly
expression of the wretched man s countenance as he left the
court. I saw his bright grey eye lifted up in a sort of agony
to heaven, with, as I supposed, the conviction that he was
retiring in disgrace, and I had been told what his lips uttered,
while his eyes so spoke. "What! are you going," said a
friend to him. " Yes ; why not ? What should I stay for
now ? " and his tone and manner bore such strong evidence
of a desponding mind, that these words were repeated as
confirming the belief that he had destroyed himself.
I never can forget with what painful feelings I went back
to my chamber, the sensation of illness forgotten, by the
sufferings of my mind !
What would I not have given to hear that the poor man
who had thus rushed unbidden into the presence of his
heavenly judge, urged by the convictions of having been
condemned in the presence of an earthly one, was innocent
of this second crime ! It had been terrible to believe him
guilty of the first.
My mind was so painfully full of this subject, that it was
always uppermost with me ; and, to increase my suffering, the
unhappy man s grave was dug immediately opposite our
windows ; and although I drew down the blinds all day long,
I heard the murmuring voices of the people talking over the
event, some saying he was an injured man, and venting curses
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 27
on the heads of those who had brought him to that pass.
The verdict having been that "he was found dead in his
bed," the interment took place in the usual manner ; and it
did so early in the morning. I took care to avoid the front of
the house till all was over ; and when the hour in the follow
ing morning arrived, at which I used to go to the window,
and receive the bow and smile of our neighbour, I
remembered with bitter regret that I should see him no
more, as he lay beneath the wall before me.
Even while I am writing, the whole scene in the court, and
the frightful results, live before me with all the vividness of
early impressions ; and I can scarcely assert, that, at any
future stage of life, I ever experienced emotions more keen
or more enduring.
Judge Gould came to Norwich again the next year, and as
I heard he had inquired for me, I was not long in going to
court. One of his first questions was concerning the result
of the Usury cause, which he had found so interesting, and
he heard with much feeling what I had to impart. I thought
my kind friend seemed full a year older ; and when I took
leave of him I did not expect to see him again. Perhaps
the invitation which he gave me, was a proof of a decay of
faculties ; for he. said that if ever I came to London, he lived
in such a square, (I forget the place,) and should be pleased
to introduce me to his daughter Lady Cavan. I did go to
London before he died, but I had not courage enough to call
on Sir Henry Gould ; I felt it was likely that he had forgotten
me, and that he was unlikely to exclaim, like my friends at
the bedlam, " Oh ! here s the young girl from St. George s! *
It may be remembered that in the short memorial
of her earlier days, given in the preceding chapter,
Mrs. Opie says that her attention was drawn away
from an interest that was becoming too absorbing in
the unhappy inmates of the bedlam, by new sources
of occupation and interest. " Dancing and French
28 MEMORIALS OF THE
school," she says, " soon gave another turn to my
thoughts, and excited in me other views and feelings."
The master who first instructed her to thread the gay
mazes of the dance was one, " Christian," a man well
skilled in his art, and who attained such celebrity in
it, that the room in which he taught is still called
after him, "Christian s room." Here the young
Amelia received her first lessons in dancing ; and in
after years she was wont to refer to those days, and
would close her recollections of the worthy Christian,
by telling how on one occasion, when she and her
husband were in Norwich, they accompanied a friend
to see the Dutch Church. " The two gentlemen
were engaged in looking around and making their
observations ; and I, finding myself somewhat cold,
began to hop and dance upon the spot where I stood.
Suddenly, my eyes chanced to fall upon the pavement
below, and I started at beholding the well-known
name of Christian, graved upon the slab ; I stopped
in dismay, shocked to find that I had actually been
dancing upon the grave of my old master he who
first taught me to dance ! "
The gentleman who gave her instruction in the
French language was a remarkable man, and one for
whom she entertained an affectionate respect which
continued during the remainder of his life. As he is
frequently referred to in her letters and elsewhere, it
may not be irrelevant here to give some particulars
respecting him, which are principally gathered from
an article in " the Monthly Magazine," written by
the late Mr. Win. Taylor. It appears that in 1752,
Mr. Colombine, one of a French refugee family, then
residing in Norwich, was entrusted by the members
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 29
of the Walloon church, in that city, on occasion of
his going over to Holland, to seek out for them a
suitable pastor. In the execution of this commission,
he applied to Mr. Bruckner, then holding a pastorship
at Leyclen. This gentleman, who had been educated
for the theological profession, was of eminent literary
acquirements ; he read the Hebrew and the Greek,
composed correctly, and was able to preach in four
languages: Latin. Dutch, French, and English. He
listened favourably to the invitation of the Norwich
church; and in 1753 settled amongst them, and
continued to officiate during 51 years with increasing
satisfaction : about the year 1766, Mr. B. also under
took the charge of the Dutch church, of which the
duties had become almost nominal, in consequence of
the diminished numbers of Dutch families, and the
gradual disuse of that language.
The French was Mr. Bruckner s favourite tongue ;
and in it he gave lessons, both public and private, to
the young people of his adopted city, for many years :
he also cultivated music, and delighted in practising
upon the organ. He was, besides, an author, and
published a work entitled " Theorie du Systeme
Animal," and, under an assumed name, a pamphlet
entitled " Criticisms on the Diversions of Purley."
His death took place in the month of May, 1804 ;
at his house in St. Benedict s street. Mr. Opie
painted an admirable likeness of him, which appeared
in the London Exhibition of 1800. This picture was
in the possession of Mrs. Opie at the time of her
death, and is the subject of one of her " Lays."
There was a very singular expression in the eyes, and
on one occasion a visitor who was calling upon her,
30 MEMORIALS OF THE
gazing on the picture, remarked, that he was painfully
affected by this look, as he remembered to have seen
the same strange appearance in the countenance of a
person who committed suicide. This remark forcibly
struck Mrs. Opie, and no wonder, as it was the fact
that her poor master died by his own hands ! A
gradual failure of spirits overtook him in his old age ;
sleep forsook his eyelids, and the fatal stroke ter
minated his existence, to the regret of all who had
known him ; for he was much beloved for his kindli
ness and affability, and his society was courted to the
last, as his conversation shewed good sense, humour,
and information. A small piece of paper, written in
her delicate and minute characters, and found among
her letters, proves that his friend and pupil continued to
think of him after the lapse of more than half a century.
Lines, addressed to me by my dear friend and French
master, John Bruckner, a Flemish Clergyman, on my re
questing him to let my husband paint a portrait of him
for me.
Pourquoi me dcmander, aimable Amelie
De ce front tout ride, Ic lugubre portrait ?
Pour etre contemple jamais il ne fut fait,
Assez il a deplu Permettez qu on 1 oublie !
John Bruckner, 1 800.
Translation in prose :
Why do you ask of me, amiable Amelia, the gloomy portrait of
this wrinkled brow ? It was never meant to be contemplated. It
has enough displeased Let it now be forgotten. A. 0. 1852.
To this amiable man and accomplished scholar
Mrs. Opie was indebted, not only for instruction in
French, but for much general information, which he
was well qualified to impart.
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 31
The premature death of Mrs. Alderson occasioned
(as we have seen) the introduction of her daughter
into society at a very early age. Her father delighted
to make her his constant companion, and introduced
her to the company of the friends with whom he
visited, and whom he welcomed to his house. Hence,
at a time when girls are usually confined to the
school room, she was presiding as mistress of his
household, and mingling in the very gay society of
the Norwich circles of that day. The period of
which we write was shortly before the breaking
out of the French revolution, and was one of great
commercial prosperity, in which the merchant-manu
facturers of the old town shared, in an extraordinary
degree. This state of things lasted until the troubles
consequent upon that event disturbed the commercial
relations of the continent ; when the trade declined,
and a season of unparelleled depression ensued. But
at the time of which we speak, it was a thriving
and prosperous city, and abounded in gaiety and
amusements of various sorts.
A young girl placed in such circumstances must
have greatly needed the counsel and friendship of a
wise female friend ; and such an one Miss Alderson
happily found in Mrs. John Taylor, a lady dis
tinguished for her extensive knowledge and many
excellencies. She was living at that time in Norwich,
not far from Mr. Alderson s, and an intimacy was
early formed between the two ladies, which appears
to have lasted uninterruptedly through life. After
Mrs. Opie s marriage, she continued to correspond
with this friend of her early days, and happily many
of her letters to Mrs. T. have been preserved.
32 MEMORIALS OF THE
Frequent mention is made of Mrs. Taylor in
Sir James Mackintosh s life, and she is spoken of
as one of the principal attractions amid the circle of
friends whose society he sought, when carried by his
professional duties to Norwich. Mr. Montague, his
companion on some of these occasions, says:
" N. was always a haven of rest to us, from the literary
society with which that city abounded. Dr. Sayers we used
to visit, and the high-minded and intelligent Wm. Taylor ;
but our chief delight was in the society of Mrs. John Taylor,
a most intelligent and excellent woman, mild and unassuming,
quiet and meek, sitting amidst her large family, occupied with
her needle and domestic occupations, but always assisting, by
her great knowledge, the advancement of kind and dignified
sentiment and conduct.
Manly wisdom and feminine gentleness were in her united
with such attractive manners, that she was universally loved
and respected. In high thoughts and gentle deeds she
greatly resembled the admirable Lucy Hutchinson, and in
troubled times would have been equally distinguished for
firmness in what she thought right. In her society we
passed every moment we could rescue from the court." *
How dear must such a friend have been to one
whom she so tenderly loved ! When some years later
a portrait of Mrs. Opie was brought out in " The
Cabinet," a periodical of the day, Mrs. Taylor
drew up a short notice of her friend, to accom
pany this likeness. This paper was written about
the time of Mr. Opie s death, but it principally
refers to the early part of Mrs. Opie s life. After
speaking of the circumstances of her birth, of the
early death of her mother, and of the proofs she
* See Life of Sir James Mackintosh.
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 33
gave, even in childhood, of poetical genius and taste,
the writer continues :
" Mrs. Opie s musical talents were early cultivated. Her
first master was Mr. Michael Sharp, of Norwich, who
possessed a degree of love for his profession which com
paratively few, employed in the drudgery of teaching, evince.
Mrs. O. never arrived at superiority as a player, but she
may be said to have been unrivalled in that kind of singing
in which she more particularly delighted. Those only who
have heard her can conceive the effect she produced in the
performance of her own ballads ; of these, The poor
Hindoo was one of her chief favourites, and the expression
of plaintive misery and affectionate supplication which she
threw into it, we may safely say has very seldom been
equalled. She may fairly be said to have created a style of
singing of her own, which, though polished and improved by
art and cultivation, was founded in that power, which she
appears so pre-eminently to possess, of awakening the tender
sympathies and pathetic feelings of the mind."
After enumerating some further accomplishments
possessed by her friend, Mrs. Taylor closes her tribute
of affectionate regard, by speaking of the excellencies
of a heart and mind " distinguished by frankness,
probity, and the most diffusive kindness;" and
appeals to the many who could bear witness from
experience, to those sympathies which " made the
happiness of her friends her own, and to the un
remitting ardour with which she laboured to remove
the miseries that came within her knowledge and
influence."
34 MEMORIALS OF THE
CHAPTER III.
NORFOLK AND NORWICH, AND THEIR INHABITANTS; YOUNG LOVE;
THE DRAMA ; SONG WRITING AND CROMER ; POLITICS ; TISIT TO
LONDON ; LETTERS FROM THENCE ; THE OLD BAILEY TRIALS.
MR. HOLCROFT, in his Autobiography, writes thus
of East Anglia :
"I have seen more of the county of Norfolk than of its
inhabitants; of which county I remark, that, to the best of
my recollection, it contains more churches, more flints, more
turkeys, more turnips, more wheat, more cultivation, more
commons, more cross roads, and from that token probably
more inhabitants, than any county I ever visited. It has
another distinguishing and paradoxical feature, if what I hear
be true ; it is said to be more illiterate than any other part
of England, and yet, I doubt, if any county of like extent
have produced an equal number of famous men."
The praises of Norwich were written thus, in old
monkish rhymes in days of yore ;
" Urbs speciosa situ, nitidis pulcherrima tectis,
Grata peregrinis, dcliciosa suis."
If common fame speak true, the Inhabitants of the
old City have been noted for three peculiarities the
resolute purpose and strongly marked character of her
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 35
men ; the fair looks of her women ; and the deep-
rooted attachment which is entertained for her by
those born and bred within her walls, The subject
of this memoir certainly shared largely in this love for
the city of her birth. During the eight and twenty
years of her life which preceded her marriage, with
the exception of occasional visits to London and else
where, she remained in her native town and in her
father s house; and when, at the expiration of nine
years, she became a widow, she returned to live under
her father s roof again; nor at his death did she mani
fest a desire to quit the place endeared to her by the
recollections of so many long and happy years.
At the period to which we have arrived in her his
tory, she possessed the advantages of a pleasing
personal appearance. Her friend, Mrs. Taylor,
delicately alludes to the graces of " person, mind, and
manner," so happily united in her ; and Mr. Opie s
portraits fully bear testimony to the truth of
these friendly representations. Her countenance was
animated, bright, and beaming ; her eyes soft and
expressive, yet full of ardour ; her hair was abundant
and beautiful, of auburn hue, and waving in long
tresses; her figure was well formed; her carriage
fine; her hands, arms, and feet, well shaped;
and all around and about her was the spirit of youth,
and joy, and love. What wonder if she early loved,
and was beloved ! She used to own that she had
been guilty of the " girlish imprudence" of love at
sixteen. From the following lines in one of her
poems, it should seem that this fancy of her youth
was but a day-dream destined to pass away like the
rest!
D 3
36 MEMORIALS OF THE
I ve gazed on the handsome, have talked with the wise,
With the witty have laugh d, untouched by love s power,
And tho long assailed by young Cory don s eyes,
They charmed for a day, and were thought of no more !
But once, I confess, (t was at tender sixteen,)
Love s agents were busy indeed round my heart,
And nought but good fortune s assistance I ween,
Could ere from my bosom have warded the dart.
Numerous admirers, indeed, seem to have paid her
homage, and courted her favour in those days. Some
perhaps enjoyed a short season of hope, and there
were two or three, whose rapturous effusions were
committed to some secret receptacle, there to await a
season of leisure when their claims might be considered.
But alas ! none such came ; they lay forgotten ;
and only came to light when she, whose bright young
charms they told of, had closed a long life.
High spirits, uninterrupted health, a lively fancy,
and poetic talent, were hers; and she fully enjoyed
and exercised these natural advantages.
One of her earliest tastes was a love of the
drama, and Mr. Capel Lofft, writing to her in 1808,
observes, " Your uncle, the barrister, was saying yes
terday evening, how struck he was, almost in your
childhood, with your power of dramatic diction and
recitation, and that he had never thought it equalled
by any one." This taste she cultivated ; and, when not
more than eighteen years of age, wrote a tragedy,
entitled " Adelaide," which is still extant. It was
acted for the amusement of her friends ; she herself
performing the heroine s part, while Mr. Robert
Harvey played the role of " the old father."
It should seem from an expression in one of her
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 37
letters, that this was not a solitary effort in theatrical
composition, and that she even aspired to see some of
her plays performed in public. It was probably this
taste which early introduced her to an acquaintance
with the Kemble family ; as she says, in a very early
letter to her father, signing herself Euridice, "My
claim to this name was revived in my mind the other
day, by Mr. Kemble coming up to me, saying,
6 Euridice, the woods, Euridice, the floods, &c." She
ever entertained an ardent admiration for the illustrious
Mrs. Siddons ; an admiration mingled with a warm
sentiment of personal regard. This was manifested
in a touching and natural manner after the death of
that lady, when, as she was one day visiting the
Soanian museum, (in company with the friend who
now records the fact,) happening unexpectedly to see
a cast of Mrs. Siddons face, taken after death, and
unable to control her emotion, she burst into a
passionate flood of tears !
Mrs. Taylor was probably right in her judgment
when she said to Mrs. Opie, " You ought to rest your
fame upon song writing." Many of the most popular
songs she published after her marriage had been early
productions of her pen; and were, perhaps, not
excelled by any efforts of that kind in her later years.
Some of them first appeared separately in newspapers
and magazines, and a few in a periodical miscellany
called " The Cabinet."
The Lay to the memory of her mother was written
(as we have said) at Cromer, in the year 1791 ; and
is the first in an old manuscript book containing her
earlier poems, many of which she afterwards published.
They were produced in this and the following year,
38 MEMORIALS OF THE
and are inscribed "Verses written at Cromer." This
place seems to have been, throughout life, very dear to
her ; owing no doubt, in part, to the fact that she had
frequently spent the summer season there with her
mother in her childhood ; hence it became associated
in her mind with these earliest recollections.
There she indulged in fond memories and fancies,
spending the long summer days roving along the
shore, and weaving her thoughts into verse, grave or
gay. She deplores her fate when compelled to leave
These scenes belov d upon whose tranquil shores,
Thoughtless of ill, I breathed my earliest songs,
While childish sports and hopes a joyous throng
In soft enchantment bound the guiltless hours.
And concludes,
Here I would wander, from day s earliest dawn,
Till o er the western summit steals dark night ;
And from the rugged cliff or dewy lawn,
Reluctant fades the last pale gleam of light.
Visits among her numerous friends, and excursions
on business and pleasure, in which she not unfre-
quently accompanied her father, occasionally afforded
themes for her pen, and her wanderings may often be
tracked by the titles she gave to these effusions. " A
sonnet written in Cumberland," bears date 1790.
Another "in a bower in Wroxham Churchyard,"
August, 1792. A serio-comic poem written at
Windermere, in a letter to her father, gives an
account of the merry antics played by herself and
a gay party of young folks with whom she made
the trip, and one, which we give to the reader, was
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 39
" WRITTEN ON SEEING A BUST OF MINERVA AT FELBRIGG
HALL, THROWN INTO A CORNER AMONGST RUBBISH."
"Who should have thought in "Windham s breast
Ingratitude to find !
Who should have thought that he could prove
To his best friend unkind !
Yet sure I am, my eyes beheld
In Felbrigg hall this morn,
Unmeaning heads exalted high,
And Wisdom left forlorn !
#*****
From these tranquil scenes we must make a some
what abrupt transition, and carry the reader to the
busy world of London, where we find her in 1794, and
writing to her friend, Mrs. T., from thence. The
allusions to political events, contained in these letters,
render it necessary to say a few words respecting the
opinions entertained by Dr. Alderson, and the friends
with whom he associated on these subjects ; as his
daughter s views were naturally to a great degree
formed after those of her father and his companions.
During the later years of the last century, at the
time when this country was so vehemently excited by
the great changes then occurring in France, and
which were regarded by many as the commencement
of a new and happier era for the nations of Europe
generally; party strife ran to a fearful height, and
scarcely any, even of the weaker sex, remained
passive spectators of the struggle.
Dr. Alderson was among those who hailed the dawn
of the French revolution with pleasure ; and, though
he afterwards saw cause to moderate his expecta
tions as to the results of that movement, he seems
40 MEMORIALS OF THE
(in common with many sincere patriots) to have held
his allegiance true to the original revolutionary cause.
It is well known that at this time various societies
were organized, in different parts of the kingdom,
for the purpose of discussing the political questions
then agitating the public mind, and Norwich was
among the foremost in these associations. A local
society was instituted, in which were canvassed reforms
and changes, many of which, advocated by the most
influential statesmen of our day, have since been
safely yielded to the irresistible force of public
opinion. Three of the leading measures contended
for were the Abolition of Negro Slavery, the repeal
of the Corporation and Test Acts, and the reform of
the House of Commons.
The policy of the government was, however, (not
without reason,) hostile to associations such as these,
and severe measures were adopted to put them down,
and to bring their leaders under the fearful ban of
high treason.
During Miss Alderson s stay in London, in 1794,
she attended the famous trials of Home Tooke,
Holcroft, and others, for treason, at the Old Bailey ;
and in her letters home she gave her father a lively
account of the events which transpired. It is known
that Dr. Alderson, after reading these letters to his
confidential friends, thought it prudent to destroy
them. A few letters, to Mrs. Taylor, written previous
to her marriage, have been preserved ; but as that lady
was in the habit of reading those addressed to Dr
Alderson by his daughter, they contain no account of
the events which she described to him. The three
which follow were written in 1 794, during her visit
LirE OF AMELIA OPIE. 41
to some friends who lived near London, but her letters
being mostly without date, cannot always be arranged
with certainty. It is evident that a fellowship in
political opinions was the only bond which united her
to many with whom, at this time, she associated.
Her own good sense and firm rectitude of principle,
happily preserved her from the follies and errors into
which not a few around her were led, by their ex
travagant zeal for a liberty which speedily degenerated
into license. She too, was enthusiastic, ardent, per
haps imprudent, at least so she seems to have judged
in cooler moments ; but there was too much of the
pure womanly character in her, to suffer her ever to
sympathize with the assertors of " woman s rights,"
(so called ;) and she was not to be spoiled even though
exposed to the influence of Horace Walpole s
" philosophising serpents, the Paines, the Tookes,
and the Wollstoriecrofts."
Tuesday, 1794.
MY DEAR MRS. T.
At length I have found an opportunity of
writing to you at my leisure, but now, though I have begun
with the resolution of being very grave and very sentimental,
I feel such an inclination to run into plain matters of fact
and narration, that I shall beg leave to content myself with
a recital of the events of my journey to town yesterday,
requesting at the same time a recital of the events of your
life, since I saw you, in return. We will leave gravity and
sentiment to be the order of the evening when we resume
our Wednesday tete a tetes, and rejoice in the absence of
husband and father.
Mr. J. Boddington and I set off for town yesterday by
way of Islington, that we might pay our first visit to Godwin,
at Somers Town. After a most delightful ride through some
42 MEMORIALS OF THE
of the richest country I ever beheld, we arrived at about
one o clock at the philosopher s house, whom we found with
his hair bien poudre, and in a pair of new, sharp-toed, red
morocco slippers, not to mention his green coat and crimson
under-waistcoat. He received me very kindly, but wondered
I should think of being out of London ; could I be either
amused or instructed at Southgate? How did 1 pass my
time? What were my pursuits? and a great deal more,
which frightened my protector, and tired me, till at last I told
him I had not yet outlived my affections, and that they bound
me to the family at Southgate. But was I to acknowledge
any other dominion than that of reason? "but are you
sure that my affections in this case are not the result of
reason?" He shrugged disbelief, and after debating some
time, he told me I was more of the woman than when he saw
me last. Rarely did we agree, and little did he gain on me
by his mode of attack ; but he seemed alarmed lest he should
have offended me, and apologised se-veral times, with much
feeling, for the harshness of his expressions. In short, he
convinced me that his theory has not yet gotten entire
ascendancy over his practice. He has promised to come
over to spend a day at Southgate, when I shall pit rational
belief in Mr. M., against atheism in Mr. Godwin. Mr. B.
was disgusted with his manner ; though charmed with that of
Barry, whom we called on last week. Godwin told me he
had talked of me to Mrs. Inchbald, that she recollected me,
and wished to see me; so I determined to call on her after I
had paid my visit to Mrs. Siddons. From Godwin s, we
went to Ives Hurry s in the City, where we left our chair
and horses, and proceeded in a coach to Mrs. Betham s, to
have my profile taken, and thence we drove to Marlborough
Street. I found Mrs. Siddons engaged in nursing her
little baby, and as handsome and charming as ever. She
played last Wednesday before her month was up, and is now
confined to her room with the cold she caught behind the
scenes. There too, I saw Charles Kemble, as I passed
through his sister s dressing room, and thought him so like
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 43
Kemble, Mrs. Twiss, and Mrs. Siddons, that it was some
time before I could recollect myself enough to know whether
he was a man or a woman. Sally and Maria, tell my father,
are quite well, and inquired much concerning him. The
baby is all a baby can be, but Mrs. S. laughs, and eays it is
a wit and a beauty already in her eyes ; she leaves town
to-day, or she would have invited me for a longer visit-
From Marlborough Street, we drove to Mrs. Inchbald s, who
is as pretty as ever, and much more easy and unreserved in
her manner, than when I last saw her. With her we passed
an hour, and when I took my leave, she begged I would call
on her again. She is in charming lodgings, and has just
received two hundred pounds from Sheridan, for a farce
containing sixty pages only. From her house we drove into
the city. You will wonder, perhaps, where we dined. Be
it known unto you, that we never dine when we visit
London. Ives Hurry, as soon as we arrive at his house,
always treats us with as much ice and biscuits as we can eat ;
we then sally forth, and eat ice again when we want it ; so
we did yesterday, and Mrs. Siddons roast beef had no
temptations for us. As we returned to I. H. s, we went to
Daniel Isaac Eaton s shop ; we had scarcely entered it, when
a very genteel-looking young man came in. He examined
us, and we him ; and suspicion being the order of the day, I
dared not talk to Mrs. Eaton till the stranger was engaged
in conversation with Boddington. I then told her that
curiosity led me to her shop, and that I came from that city
of sedition, Norwich. Her eyes sparkled, and she asked me if
I knew Charles Marsh ? " You come from Norwich, (cried
the stranger,) allow me to ask you some questions," &c., &c.
He put questions, I answered them, and in a short time Mr.
J. B. and myself were both so charmed with his manners
and conversation, that we almost fancied we had known him
before. We saw that he was intimate with Mrs. E. and her
sweet girl, and seemed to be as much at home in the shop as
the counter itself. So we had no fears of him ; at last we
became so fraternized, that Mrs. E. shut the shop door and
44 MEMORIALS OF THE
gave us chairs. I will not relate the information I heard,
but I could have talked with him all night. "Well, but
who was he ?" Have patience and you shall hear. Finding
that he was just returned from Scotland, and was au fait of
all the proceedings there, and that his connexions were
those of high life; I asked where Lord Daer was, and
lamented that he was not one of the arrested members. He
smiled, and said that Lord D. wanted nerve then, and
fortitude to resist the anxieties of his mother, and sisters, the
most accomplished women in England ; that the very day of
the arrest he had received a letter from Lord Daer, promising
to be with them if possible ; and in the evening another note
to say Lady Selkirk was ill, and that he could not leave her.
" Indeed ! I thought he bailed you," said Mrs. Eaton. " Oh !
110," replied the other. Mr. B. and I looked at each other,
wondering who "you," was; but I began to suspect, and
went on questioning him. He said they dared not hurt
Lord D ; that they dared not attack any man of connexions
and estate in Scotland : that had he himself been condemned,
or sent to Botany Bay, his connexions would have risen to a
man. I ventured to say, that however amiable Lord D s
family might be, he ought to have disregarded their influence.
He replied that I was quite right, and that he himself had
disregarded them; that democratic women were rare, and
that he heartily wished he could introduce me to two
charming patriots at Edinburgh, who were, though women,
up to circumstances and a great deal more, that raised my
curiosity to a most painful height ; at last, having said that
he had laid it down as a rule for his conduct, that a patriot
should be without the hope of living, or the fear of dying,
he took his leave, leaving our minds elevated and delighted.
Mrs. E. told us it was Mr. Sinclair, Sir John s nephew, he
who was tried, and acquitted. He says Lord D. is supposed
to be dying, and he himself looks in bad health, but his
countenance is fine, and his manners elegant. " What think
you of Mr. Windham ?" said I, " Oh ! the poor creature is
out of his element; he might have done very well for a
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 45
college disputant or a Greek professor, perhaps, but that s
all. "Why do the Norwich patriots espouse Mingay ? what
can they expect? (said he,) he might be a very good
implement of resentment against Windham, but, though the
friend of their necessity, not of their choice." Is he not
right? * * * *
The following letter begins quite abruptly, and is
without date.
How strange it is, my dear friend, that I should
have suffered your kind letter to remain so long unanswered^
but, as I am certain that you will not impute my silence to
any diminution of affection towards you, I will not fret
about my oddity, but endeavour to make amends for it, by
writing as good a letter as I can, and that will be, alas ! very
stupid ; for the state of the times and other things press upon
my mind continually, and unfit me for everything but
conversation. My father will have told you a great deal ; he
will have told you too how much we are interested and agitated
by the probable event of the approaching trials. Would to
God, you and your husband were equally so, for then would
one of my cares be removed ; as you would, like us, perhaps
turn a longing eye towards America as a place of refuge;
and one of the strongest ties that binds me to Norwich
would be converted into an attraction to lure me to the new
world. On this, at least, I hope we are at all events resolved ;
to emigrate, if the event of the trial be fatal ; that is, provided
the Morgans do not give up their present resolution, and
that we can carry a little society along with us, in which we
can be happy, should Philadelphia disappoint our expec
tations. I write to you on this subject in confidence ; as we
do not wish our intention to be much known at present.
How changed I am ! How I sicken at the recollection of
past follies and past connexions, and wish from the bottom of
my soul, that I had never associated but with you and others
like you. But it is folly to dwell on the past ; it only
incapacitates one for enjoying the present ; it shall now be
46 MEMORIALS OF THE
my care to anchor on the future, and I trust in God that it
will not disappoint me.
You see I am not in high spirits ; but then I am the more
natural; and my flighty hours are long gone by, and my
time for serious exertion is, I hope, arrived ; but why should
I write thus ? I shall perhaps infect you with this seeming
gloom ; for, after all, if I carefully examine my heart, it will
tell me, that I am happy. My usual spirits have been
lowered this morning, by hearing Mr. Boddington and Mr.
Morgan mark the printed list of the jury. Every one
almost is marked by them as unfit to be trusted ; for almost
every man is a rascal, and a contractor, and in the pay of
government some way or another.
What hope is there then for these objects of ministerial
rancour? Mr. B. objects even to his own uncle, whom he
thinks honest, because he is so prejudiced an aristocrat, that
he looks upon rigour, in such cases, to be justice only. What
a pass are things come to, when even dissenters lick the
hand that oppresses them ! Hang these politics ! how they
haunt me. Would it not be better, think you, to hang the
f ranters of them ?
What is a woman made of, think you, that can sue a man
for inconstancy ? Truly of very coarse materials ; yet I
really believe Miss Mann s trial would have attracted me
more than that for sedition. It would have given me so many
new ideas. ; I wish my father could have remained
with us, but he was very good to stay so long as he did ; and
I have the satisfaction of knowing he was happy while he did
stay. He will tell you enough about Mrs. Inchbald, for he
is quite smitten with her. Nay, I rather suspect he paid her
a farewell visit. Pray tell him to write to me soon.
What a pity it is that The Cabinet is dangerous. I should
have enjoyed it else so much. I admire what is already
written. We are going to-night, as usual, to W. Morgan s,
where I shall sing as usual, your husband s song. How I
wish he was here to sing it instead of me. Farewell. Pray
write to me soon.
A. A.
LIFE OF AMELIA OP1E. 47
Although, as we have said, the letters describing
what she saw at the Old Bailey were destroyed, she
has fortunately preserved an anecdote of much interest
relative to them, which was recalled to her recollection
many years subsequently, on occasion of a visit she
paid to Madame de Stael ; she says :
With this woman of excelling genius and winning manners,
I had the pleasure of being acquainted in the year 1813;
when, with her daughter, then of the age of sixteen, who
afterwards became Duchess de Broglie, and Mr. Rocca, to
whom she was then privately married, she was residing for
some months in London, when exiled by Napoleon from
France. One morning I went to call on her by appointment,
accompanied by a friend of mine whom she wished to see, on
some particular business. Scarcely had that business been
concluded, when the servant announced Lord Erskine, who
came in with books in his hands, and when he saw me he
cried, " I am glad to see you here, for I want you to read
something for me." He then gracefully bowed to Madame
de Stael and presented the two books to her, containing, he
said, his most celebrated speeches ; and opening the first
volume he turned to the first page, on which he had written
a dedication to la Baronne de Stael in English, which he
begged me to read to her. " No, no, not so," she exclaimed
eagerly, taking the book from me, " I can read it myself."
Accordingly she began ; while I, myself an author, soon felt
painful sympathy with poor Lord E. s feelings ; for the
writing was, I dare say, difficult for her, a foreigner, to read ;
and the poor writer s smooth and elegant periods were, in a
great measure, deprived of their charm, by their meaning
being sometimes stammered out, and, possibly, not entirely
understood. However, the lady was flattered with what she
did understand, and Lord E. soon recovered the steadiness of
his nerves : and taking up the second volume, which contained
his speeches at the Old Bailey trials in the year 1794, he
read some favourite passages to her, and finished by alluding
48 MEMORIALS OF THE
to the evident dislike which the Lord Chief Baron Eyre,
who presided at them, entertained for him, and how strongly
he proved it during the trial of Home Tooke, who was the
second person tried for his life, and was (like the first person,
Thomas Hardy) entirely acquitted. He then related what
had passed between himself and the Chief Justice, after the
trial was over and the crowd dispersed, and which I, who was
present, well remembered having, by accident, overheard.
Liking to be near the eloquent man and to hear him speak, I
had contrived to get so near as to overhear what passed, and
which I thought was too loud, not to be intended to be heard.
The judge had, I saw, to repeat what he said ; but at length
he was answered in a manner which he little expected ; for
the indignant speaker replied, " My lord, I am willing to give
your lordship such an answer as an aggrieved man of honour
like myself is willing to give to the man who has repeatedly
insulted him, and I am willing and ready to meet your
lordship, at any time and place that you may choose to
appoint." At this point of his story our hostess cried, " What !
my lord, that was a challenge, n est ce pas f " Yes, ma am."
" Well, what did he say?" "Oh! nothing to the purpose;
but I assure you I was irritated into saying what I did."
" Yes, indeed, I was behind you, Lord E. (said I,) and heard
all that passed ; and though such things were quite new to
me, I felt sure what was said by you amounted to a challenge ;
but when I told the friends with whom I went home what
had passed, they said I was a silly girl and that I was
mistaken." He looked at me with some surprise, and, I fear,
with a doubt of my veracity ; but I could affirm to the truth of
my assertion. I do not wonder, however, as he did not then
know me personally, and was not conscious of my proximity,
or that of any one else perhaps, that he was inclined to
distrust my truthfulness ; but it was a fact, that the
circumstance and the words he related, were, I believe,
witnessed and overheard by me alone ; and a curious fact or
coincidence it was, that this conversation, overheard by me in
the year 1794, I should be present to hear related to the
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 49
Baronne de Stael by Lord E. himself in the year 1813.
The circumstance and the words he has published at the end
of the trial of Home Tooke; and I could, with a safe
conscience, underwrite all that he there relates. I fear that
he really believed I was romancing, or he would have named
this odd corroboration of his conduct, which no doubt he
thought the noble daring of a man of worldly honour.
Among Mrs. Opie s loose papers was one written
within a short time of her death, containing some
introductory remarks to a reminiscence she purposed
to write of this eventful period. It begins
" Tis pleasant from the loophole of retreat
To look on such a world,"
wrote Cowper : but these words do not exactly express my
present feelings ; for from my loophole of retreat I am
looking with pleasure, not on the world as it is, but on the
world as it was.
The occurrences of the year 1794 have lately been pressing
with such power on my remembrance, demanding from me a
decided confession that it was the most interesting period of
my long life, (or nearly such,) that I am inclined to give an
account of what made it so, and acknowledge that it was the
opportunity unexpectedly afforded me of attending the trials
of Hardy, Home Tooke, and Thelwall, at the Old Bailey, for
High Treason. What a prospect of ^ntertainment was
opening before me when (while on a visit at Southgate, near
London) I heard that at these approaching trials, to which I
hoped to obtain admission, I should not only hear the first
pleaders at the bar, but behold, and probably hear examined,
the first magnates of the land ; and on the event depended,
not a nisi prius cause, or one of petty larceny, but interests
of a public nature, and most nearly affecting the safety and
prosperity of the nation; aye, and much personally inter
esting to myself; as I knew, in the secret of my heart, that
my own prospects for life might probably be changed and
50 MEMORIALS OF THE
darkened by the result. To such a height had party-spirit
reached on both sides, in my native city and elsewhere, that
even innocent men were accused of treasonable intentions
and practices, who talked, when excited by contradiction, the
fearful things they would never have thought of acting ; and
I had reason to believe that if the "felons" about to be tried
should not be " acquitted felons," certain friends of mine
would have emigrated to America, and my beloved father
would have been induced to accompany them !
This was, indeed, an alarming idea to me, who was only
beginning to taste the pleasures of London society, and who
could still say, in spite of the excitement of party feeling,
and my unity of opinion with the liberals of that day,
(< England ! with all thy faults I love thee still ;" and when, on
the 28th of the 10th mo., the trial of Thomas Hardy began
at the Sessions-house in the Old Bailey, existence acquired,
in my eyes, a new but painful interest; and, with the pleasing
anticipations of the unexpected enjoyment awaiting me, were
mingled some apparently well-founded fears of evil to come.
How vividly do I often now, in my lone and lonely portion,
live over the excitements of those far distant days, in the
many, many evening hours, which I pass not unwillingly
alone.
" Alone ! if tis to be alone, when memory s spells are cast
To summon phantoms from the dead, and voices from the past,
Long woven in the tangled web of the mysterious brain,
Till time and space are things of naught, and all is ours again." *
Yes! how often (as I said) do I recall with all these
alternate emotions of pain and pleasure, of disappointment
and fruition, the last days of October, and the first five days
of November, 1794! * * *
Here the manuscript breaks off.
* From a charming Poem called the Desert Dream, written by
Anna Savage, and published in the Monthly Magazine for
April, 1847. A. 0.
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 51
CHAPTER IV.
FRENCH EMIGRANTS; LETTER TO MRS. TAYLOR; LETTER OF THE DUKE
D AIGUILLON ; VISIT TO LONDON, AND LETTER FROM THENCE ; LONDON
AGAIN; LETTER FROM MRS. WOLLSTONECROFT ; FIRST INTRODUCTION
TO MR. OPIE ; MR. OPIE*S EARLY HISTORY ; RETURN TO NORWICH ;
PREPARATIONS FOR MARRIAGE.
THE sufferings endured by the upper and proscribed
classes in France during the time of the French
Revolution, obliged (as is well known) multitudes of
them to take refuge in this country ; and, in the year
1797, London and its suburbs alone were found, by
an official return, to contain seven thousand and
forty-one Aliens. Many of these were subjected to
the extremes of want and misery ; their condition
exciting the compassion, as well as the indignation,
of the humane. Amongst them were not a few men
of high standing and repute, who were received into
society, and found friends among the wealthier classes
of the community. It was just at this period, that
the celebrated Count de Lally Tolendal, published
his " Defence of the French Emigrants ; " a work
well known all over Europe, as soon as it was pub
lished. To this gentleman Mrs. Opie addressed a
" Quatrain," on reading his " Defence of his Father,"
which subsequently appeared among her published
poems. This favour he acknowledged, in a letter
dated from Cossey, (near Norwich,) accompanied by a
E 2
52 MEMORIALS OF THE
French poem of one hundred lines, which she pre
served among her papers. It was very natural that
she, whose sympathies were ever so keenly alive to
the sorrows of others, should become warmly inte
rested on behalf of these unhappy exiles ; and she
appears to have formed many acquaintances among
them, during the time she spent in London. The
following letter to Mrs. Taylor gives a lively narrative
of one of the soirees, at which she met a party of the
emigrants, among whom was the Due d Aiguillon;
and we have added a letter from him, received by her
the following year, on the cover of which she has
written, " From the Duke d Aiguillon, the ex-minister ;
one of the second importation of emigrants."
TO MRS. TAYLOR.
v Sunday Morning, 179-5.
It is so long, my dear friend, since I conversed with you,
even through the imperfect medium of a letter, that I joy
fully take advantage of the first favourable opportunity for
writing you a long epistle, in hopes that I may rouse you to
pay me in coin. Besides you are in a state of widowhood
and require all the attention possible to console you for so
forlorn a condition ! What shall I tell you by way of anec
dote ? My father has read you, perhaps, my account of
Charles Lameth ; take some more particulars respecting that
extraordinary man. You may suppose that I felt a new and
pleasing sensation while contemplating him, as I knew him
to be one of the actors in the first revolution ; and as soon
as my silence yielded to my curiosity, I began questioning
him concerning some of the patriotic leaders. Amongst others
I inquired what he thought of Legendre ? He says Legendre,
though misled, has some good points in his character, and
is not a bad man ; he then gave us the following instance of
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 53
his determined spirit and resolution ; " I was, at the time I
mention/ said Larneth, "president of the National Convention,
and had been supping at your house, (turning to the Due
d Aiguillon,) when, at midnight, my servant came to me, and
said, A man muffled up is in a hackney coach at the door, and
wants to see you. Tell him to come in. He refuses.
Go and ask his name, He did so, and returned saying,
f His name is Legendre. Hearing this, I went into the coach
to him, and demanded his business. I come to you, replied he,
6 as president of the National Convention ; I hear that an
accusation is bringing forward against me, and as I shrink
not from the charge, I came to surrender myself, and save
you the trouble here I am, guillotine me, if you will, I am
firm and steady. I endeavoured to convince him the decree
of accusation might be repealed, and that all that was neces
sary was his concealment till the danger was gone by.
e Conceal me then in your house, my own is not safe, cried
he ; but I convinced him that mine was too public. However,
I sent to a friend in whom I could confide, who concealed
Legendre in his, till the decree was annulled."
" Oh !" said Sam. Rogers to me, some time after, " I do
not like the fellow s looks, I would not have gone muffled up
to his house, at midnight, and have given him leave to kill
me, for fear he should have taken me at my word !" This led
Mr. Rogers to give his opinion of the three emigres then with
us, and of Duport, another of considerable talents, who was
prevented coming ; and he defined them thus : " Though I
have often entertained Lameth at my house, I should expect
he would treat me insolently, and make me feel the distance
between us, even if he admitted me to his table. The
Marquis would grin at me, and pass on ; the Due would be
glad to see me, and do me immediately all the service and
civility in his power; but Duport would open his arms to
me !" Lameth entertained the gentlemen very much, by his
account of the fascinating Madame de Condorcet, and of her
method of acquiring votes for the members whom she
wished returned. These favoured men were called "the
54 MEMORIALS OF THE
majority of Madame de Condorcet;" and, on my innocently
asking what it meant, I saw enough, from the laugh I
excited, and L s mysterious manner of answering, to know
that the majority of Madame de Condorcet meant no good.
" Does she live still ? " said I ; " Oh, yes," cried the Due,
" she is in no danger ; all parties will be her friend ; she is
so pretty and so accommodating ; and Pm sure she 11 be the
friend of all parties" The Marquis, who was the intimate
friend of the Due de Rouchefoucault, says, though he
brought Condorcet forward, fed him, lodged him, and married
him, Condorcet was justly suspected of being privy to his as
sassination. When Lameth was forced to fly, as he was
denounced in the Jacobin Club, and orders given for his
detention, he sent to desire such a portmanteau to be for
warded directly to him ; having received it, and wanting
some of the money and papers which it contained, he
opened it as soon as he was out of France, and found, to
his utter surprise and dismay, that the wrong portmanteau
had been sent, and instead of money, that it contained
his wife s child- bed linen ! " Et les voila encore, mesdames f
(continua-t-il) car, en verite, je n ai pas eu encore occasion
d en faire usage." *
a Hambourg, chez Mr. Fortune de la Yigne,
Negotiant, ce 6 fevrier, 1796.
TO MISS AMELIA ALDEESON, ME. ALDEESON S, NOEWICH.
MADEMOISELLE,
Daignez agreer 1 assurance bien sincere, de la
vive reconnaissance que rn in spire le marque aimable, de
souvenir et d interet, que vous avez bien voulu me donner.
Je vous dois mille remerciemens, et de la lettre done vous
avez charge Mr. le Chevalier de Bercley, et de m avoir
procure le plaisir de le connaitre. Je 1 ai vu assez pour que
le peu de sejour qu il a fait ici, m ai laisse beaucoup de regrets.
J ai mille excuses a vous faire d avoir autant tarde vous
repondre; mais j ai ete, pendant plus de quinze jours,
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 55
tellement malade d un rhume mele de fievre, et de goutte
(ma constante ennemie) que j etois dans 1 impossibilite
absolue d ecrire un seal mot. Croyez, je vous prie,
Mademoiselle, qu il a fallu une raison aussi forte, pour
m empecher de vous exprimer plutot toute ma gratitude, et
le plaisir que j ai, d etre assure par vous, que je ne partage pas
le sort ordinaire aux absens,
Kecevez mes remerciemens des jolis airs que vous m avez
envoyes. Je les conserverai avec soin, et ne les donnerai
quoique vous en disiez, a personne. Us ont renouvelle mes
regrets, en me rappellant ces tendres et jolies romances que
vous chantiez avec 1 expression de la musique et toute celle
du sentiment, ce qui vaut bien mieux.
Je vous rends graces, Mademoiselle, des souhaits, vraiment
pleins de bonte que vous faites en ma faveur. Je crains qu ils ne
soyent encore longtems a s accomplir; cependant, je n en suis
pas moins sensible a votre obligeance. Mais vous ! que
desirer pour votre bonheur ? La nature n a-t-elle pas pourvu
& tout, en vous donnant les qualites du coeur, celles de 1 esprit,
des graces, des talents? Je me bornerai done a souhaiter
que vous soyez toujours aussi heureuse que vous meritez de
1 etre, et c est tout dire.
II me paroit que vous avez a Norwich une Societe de
Fran9ais assez agreable. Je ne connois point ceux que vous
me nommez ; mais j envie leur sort, d etre aupres de vous, et
de vous plaire, a propos! que peut fonder ce reproche
d aristocratie fait a mon ami, M. de L? Voila, vraisembla-
blement, la premiere fois qu il en est accuse. Cela est assez
plaisant, et le singularite du fait, Fempeche, en verite,
d etre aussi afflige qu il le seroit, d etre juge par vous aussi
severement.
Adieu, Mademoiselle. Adieu ! Croyez que je regarderois
comme un vrai bonheur d etre instruit quelquefois de ce qui
peut vous interesser. Veuillez bien agreer I hommage du
tendre respect et de Fattachement sincere, que je vous ai
voue.
D AlGUILLON.
56 MEMORIALS OF THE
Miss Alderson s visit in London seems to have been
protracted to a period of some months ; a season full
of constant occupation and variety, passed amidst a
gay round of visits and amusements, which, however,
did not merely serve the end of the fleeting hour s
enjoyment, but in which she studied human nature,
and became acquainted with the world and its ways,
to good practical purpose. There are two other letters
to her friend, of this period, from which we make the
following extracts:
* * * Yesterday morning I had the unexpected
pleasure of a visit from Mr. Wrangham. He did not stay
long, but he has promised to call again, and is as gentle,
elegant, and interesting as ever; he gained the Seatonian
prize for a poem this year, which is published, and he has
promised to send me one. I am much pleased with Mr. W.
Taylor s Ode to the ship that conveys Gerald. Though he
would not favour me with a copy of the elegant sonnet he
sent me on the morning of my departure, my memory retains
every word of it; and I catch myself repeating the first
and last line, whenever home and its varied associations
crowd on my mind. Month follows month in this wilderness
of pleasure, if I may call it so, where fruits and flowers
dispute pre-eminence with weeds ; and yet I cannot say, " I ll
stay here no longer," till, as I said before, my natal soil and
its comforts press on my mind, and I exclaim, tf Ah ! not for
ever quaff at pleasure s distant fount ! " To-morrow I am
going to enjoy " the feast of reason and the flow of soul,"
with Mrs. Barbauld and Dr. Geddes, at Mrs. Howard s. I
wish I could wish you there. Godwin drank tea and supt
here last night ; a leave-taking visit, as he goes to-morrow to
spend a fortnight at Dr. Parr s. It would have entertained
you highly to have seen him bid me farewell. He wished
to salute me, but his courage failed him. "While oft
he looked back, and was loth to depart." " Will you give
LIFE OF AMELIA OPIE. 57
me nothing to keep for your sake, and console me during my
absence/ murmured out the philosopher, "not even your
slipper? I had it in my possession once, and need not have
returned it ! " This was true ; my shoe had come off, and he
had put it in his pocket for some time. You have no idea
how gallant he is become; but indeed he is much more
amiable than ever he was. Mrs, Inchbald says, the report of
the world is, that Mr. Holcroft is in love with her, she with
Mr. Godwin, Mr. Godwin with me, and I am in love with
Mr. Holcroft I A pretty story indeed ! This report Godwin
brings to me, and he says Mrs. I. always tells him that when
she praises Mm, I praise Holcroft. This is not fair in Mrs. I.
She appears to me jealous of G. s attention to me, so she
makes him believe I prefer H. to him. She often says to
me, " Now you are come, Mr. Godwin does not come near
me." Is not this very womanish? We had a most delightful
conversation last night. A dispute on the merits of different
poets, Mr. G. abusing Collins, I defending him, G. setting
Gray above him, and I putting him below him; but we
agreed about Churchill, who was one of mj flames. How
idle I am I I cannot write, and I read but little, but I shall
mend. Farewell! Mr. Batty and I both wear you "in
our heart s core," and so would Mrs. B, if she knew you. I
love and admire them more every day. Love to the
Barnards; my love to the Smiths. Dear love and good
wishes to the boys and girls.
Yours,
Thursday.
MY DEAR MKS. TAYLOR,
* * * * I flatter myself with the idea
that you hear most of my letters to my father ; consequently
that you know my movements, and can judge of the probable
quantity of enjoyment I experience. I am now about to
enjoy pleasant society in a pleasant country, one of the first
luxuries at this season of the year ; but still I sigh for home,
that is, I sigh for a day or two of confidential intercourse
58 MEMORIALS OF THE
with you and others, and to wash off the dirt of London in
the sea of Cromer ; to write poetry on the shore, to live over
again every scene there that memory loves (and never did
she love them so dearly as now ;) and, having rioted in all
that my awakened fancy can give, return to Norwich, and
endeavour to make one of my plays, at least, fit to be offered
to one of the managers of the winter theatres. Such is my
plan; and in it I live, move, and have my being.
Bless me ! what a busy place Norwich has been, and I not
in it I but then
