FOOTNOTES:
[9] A list kept as a check on the Circulating Library account for the years 1806 to 1811 inclusive, is a sufficient indication of this, the number for one month alone totalling fifty-five volumes and ranging through Fiction, Belles-Lettres, Travel and Biography.
[10] Impeached for malversation in his office as Treasurer of the Navy. The trial lasted sixteen days. Whitbread led for the Impeachers; Plumer—afterwards Master of the Rolls—ably defended and secured his acquittal.
[11] Sir Samuel Romilly, Solicitor-General.
CHAPTER VII
THE TRIP TO NORTHUMBERLAND
With a proper and increasing pride in his clever daughter, the Doctor now conceived the idea of taking her with him on an extended trip into Northumberland, thereby affording her some acquaintance with the scenes amidst which his family had lived for generations, a trip which would serve the double purpose of impressing the girl with a sense of the importance of her ancestors and present relations and of introducing her to the latter who, although they must have heard of her, had never yet seen her.
The journey was begun on Saturday, September 20, 1806, the first stage, that from Reading to London being by coach. From London they travelled in the carriage of Nathaniel Ogle, who personally conducted them to his own place in Northumberland, from which they were to make their various excursions in the district. Mrs. Mitford did not accompany them, but was kept well informed, as usual, by her daughter.
The first letter is dated from Royston, September 21: “We had a very long interval between the parting from my most beloved darling and the leaving Reading. The coach was completely full; and it was fortunate papa had secured a place on the box, where he continued during the whole journey. The company in the inside had the merit of being tolerably quiet; and I do not remember any conversation which lasted longer than a minute. I, certainly, ought not to complain of their silence, as I was more than equally taciturn, and scarcely spoke during the whole way. I was quite low-spirited, but never less fatigued by travelling. Both Mr. Joy and Dr. Valpy[12] met us before we left Reading, and M. St. Quintin and Victoire met us at the Bath Hotel. As soon as Victoire left me, I retired to bed, under the idea of pursuing our journey early in the morning. It was, however, half-past ten before Mr. Ogle got up, and we did not leave town till twelve. We employed the interval in going to the bookseller’s for a Cobbett, and bought a Cary’s Itinerary, an edition of Peter Pindar, and a few plays. The Edition of P. P. which we bought cheap, remains in town; but the others are our travelling companions. We went by Enfield to see Mary Ogle, and finding them at dinner we dined at Mrs. Cameron’s; we then changed horses at Waltham Cross; again at Wade’s Mill; and are just arrived here, where we sleep to-night. Mr. Ogle is extremely pleasant, and the carriage very convenient. We went the two first stages on the box of the barouche. I need not tell you, my dearest darling, that we felt nothing so much as the loss of your society; and I have wished myself at home fifty times in the last twenty-four hours, to be again with my dear mamma.”
Apart from the interest which, in these days, is always attached to an old-time account of stage-travel the letter is interesting by reason of the variety of literature purchased for perusal on the journey. The Cobbett referred to would probably be Cobbett’s Political Register (then being issued in parts), and intended for the Doctor’s personal reading; he being not only an admirer but an intimate friend of the outspoken reformer. Cary’s Itinerary was, of course, the well-known road-book and constant companion of all who travelled in stage-coach days; though why Miss Mitford was not content with her dainty, green-leather-covered copy of Bowles’ Post-Chaise Companion in two vols.—now a valued possession of the author’s—is difficult to understand, unless it was overlooked in the hurry and excitement of departure. Peter Pindar’s Works, then just completed in five vols., would be a valuable addition to the library at home, but the purchase of the plays is significant, proving the influence which Fanny Rowden had exercised on the mind of her pupil, inculcating a taste for the Drama which was to be of lasting importance.
The next letter is written from Little Harle Tower—a small place about fourteen miles from Morpeth—and is dated Sunday Evening, September 28.—
“I arrived here with Lady Charles,[13] about two hours since, my dearest mamma; and I find from papa that in his letter to you to-night he never mentioned that the irregularity of the post, which never goes oftener than three times a week from hence, will prevent our writing again till Wednesday, when we go to Sir William Lorraine’s, and hope to get a frank from Colonel Beaumont, whom we are to meet there. It is only by Lord Charles going unexpectedly to Morpeth that I am able to write this, merely to beg you not to be alarmed at not hearing oftener. I imagine papa has told you all our plans, which are extremely pleasant. Lord and Lady Charles stay longer in the country on purpose to receive us, and have put off their visit to Alnwick Castle that they may take me there, as well as to Lord Grey’s, Colonel Beaumont’s, and half a dozen other places.”
The reference in this letter to a “frank” is one which frequently occurs in Miss Mitford’s correspondence. It was, as Sir Rowland Hill once said, an “expedient for saving postage”—“discreditable shifts” another writer called them. In the days before the institution of Penny Postage—an event which put an end to “franking”—Members
of Parliament enjoyed the privilege of having their letters delivered and despatched free of charge. To secure this, members had merely to write their names on the covers to ensure free passage through the post, and frequently furnished their friends with packets of franks which were placed aside for use as occasion required. This latter expedient was, of course, a flagrant abuse of the privilege, and in one year it was computed that, had postage been paid on the franked correspondence, the revenue would have been increased by £170,000! In an endeavour to check this abuse it was enacted that the whole superscription must be in the handwriting of the Member, and that the frank was only available on the date (which it was necessary to name) which was on the cover. While the regulation certainly diminished the quantity of franking it did not put an end to the use of the privilege by other than Members, to whom it became the custom to despatch an accumulated batch of letters, intended for a number of people, with explicit instructions as to their destinations. The annoyance caused to Members, and the general confusion which sometimes resulted from this practice, may be better imagined than described. Miss Mitford herself gives us an amusing account of the troubles and trials of those who both used and abused the franking privilege, in her sketch on “The Absent Member,” in Belford Regis.
In the next letter which Miss Mitford wrote we have a record of some amusing table-talk, essentially feminine in character and which, undoubtedly, greatly impressed the observant young person who overheard it. It is addressed still from Little Harle Tower, dated October 3, and after a short description of the scenery, and the mud—which caused her to beg to be excused from such excursions in the future—she relates an account of a dinner at Sir William Lorraine’s at which Colonel and Mrs. Beaumont were of the party.—
“Mrs. B. was so polite as to express great regret that, as she was going from home, she could not see us at her house, but hoped, when next we came to Northumberland, we should come to see them at Hexham Abbey. She is a very sweet woman.... Mrs. B. told Lady Charles that they received last year a hundred thousand pounds from their lead mines in Yorkshire; and they never make less than eighty thousand, independent of immense incomes from their other estates. Mrs. B. was dressed in a lavender-coloured satin, with Mechlin lace, long sleeves, and a most beautiful Mechlin veil. The necklace she wore was purchased by her eldest son, a boy of eleven, who sent it from the jeweller’s without asking the price. It is of most beautiful amethysts; the three middle stones are an inch and a half long and an inch wide; the price was nine hundred guineas. Mrs. B. wished to return it; but the Colonel not only confirmed the purchase, but gave his son some thousands to complete the set of amethysts by a bandeau and tiara, a cestus for the waist, armlets, bracelets, brooches, sleeve-clasps, and shoe-knots. All these she wore, and I must confess, for a small dinner-party appeared rather too gaily decorated, particularly as Lady Lorraine’s dress was quite in the contrary extreme. I never saw so strong a contrast ... Colonel Beaumont is generally supposed to be extremely weak, but I sat next him at dinner, and he conducted himself with infinite propriety and great attention and politeness; yet when away from Mrs. Beaumont, he is (they say) quite foolish, and owes everything to her influence.” Added to this cryptic description—cryptic because, read it how we will, we cannot be sure that there is not a subtle touch of sarcasm in the words—is a shrewd observation on another visitor whom she calls Mr. M.
“I told you I was not enamoured of Mr. M., and I will now describe him to you.... He is an oddity from affectation; and, I often think, no young man affects singularity when he can distinguish himself by anything better. He affects to despise women, yet treats them with great respect; and he makes the most extraordinary exertions to provoke an argument, from which he generally escapes by some whimsical phrase.”
The letter concludes with a long list of festivities which are to take place in honour of her visit. Following on these, they journeyed to Kirkley, Mr. Ogle’s seat, whither it was originally intended they should travel direct but were deterred from so doing by the hospitality offered en route. As a matter of fact their stay at Kirkley was a short one, due to the same cause which had prevented their earlier arrival.
The only letter addressed from Kirkley is dated Wednesday morning, October 8:—
“We arrived here on Monday at about three o’clock; received with great glee by the Squire, and, after taking a short walk in the garden, returned to dress. We had some time to wait for Lord and Lady Charles, who did not arrive before half-past five or near six, and even then undressed. They had been detained by the axle-tree breaking down, and the detestable roads. Without their waiting to dress, we immediately sat down to dinner and spent a most delightful day. In the evening we found a manuscript play which had been sent last year for Mr. Sheridan’s perusal.[14] It is taken from a very striking story in the Canterbury Tales, of which I have forgotten the title.... I read it aloud to the ladies, and the gentlemen played billiards, and occasionally visited us. The play, which bears the name of ‘Sigendorf,’ is really extremely interesting, and much better, as to language, than most modern productions. Sheridan had never looked at it, and Mr. Ogle lent it to Lady Charles.
“Yesterday morning, after a long walk, Lord and Lady C. left us. We had an excellent dinner, and amused ourselves in the evening with the ‘Liber Veritatis,’ which is, as you may remember, a very expensive collection of two hundred of Claude Lorraine’s sketches, published by Boydell.
“We are going in about an hour to Little Harle ... for Mr. Ogle and papa remain here together. We go to-morrow to Alnwick and return the same night. To-morrow is expected to be a very full day at the Castle, on account of the Sessions Ball. The ladies—the married ones I mean—go in Court dresses, without hoops, and display their diamonds and finery on the occasion.
“Mr. Ogle is quite a man of gallantry and makes his house extremely pleasant. We talk of coming to see him again next week, when my cousin Mary and I are left to keep house alone at Morpeth, and my uncle and aunt go to Little Harle Tower.”
From Morpeth, on October 11, was despatched a very long letter, too long indeed for quotation in full, but from which we must give a few extracts. It begins:—
“In papa’s letter of yesterday, my dearest darling mamma, he promised that I would write you a long one to-day, and I certainly owe you one in return for the very entertaining epistle I received yesterday. After we left Kirkley, we called at Belsay, and saw Lady Monck and the little Atticus, who was born at Athens fifteen months since. He is a very fine boy, very like Sir Charles. Belsay is a very old castle, and its eccentric possessor has done all he possibly could desire to render it still more outré by stopping up the proper road, and obliging us to approach this fine specimen of Gothic architecture through the farm-yard. We arrived at Little Harle to dinner; and you would have been greatly amused at my having my hair cut by Lord Charles’s friseur, who is by occupation a joiner, and actually attended with an apron covered with glue, and a rule in his hand instead of scissors. He, however, performed his office so much to my satisfaction, that I appointed him to dress my hair the next morning for my visit to Alnwick. While I was thus employed, Lady Swinburne called on purpose to see me. Lady Charles said I was out walking. She is, you know, niece to the Duke of Northumberland, and I regretted not seeing her.
“Thursday morning we rose early and prepared for our visit. I wore my ball gown, and Lady C. lent me a beautiful necklace of Scotch pebbles, very elegantly set, which had been presented to her by the Duchess of Athole, with brooches and ornaments to match. I kept my front hair in papers till I reached Alnwick.... I would not attempt a description of Alnwick Castle, my dear mamma, but I must tell you it is by no means so very princely a residence as I had imagined. The entrance is extremely striking. After passing through three massy gateways, you alight and enter a most magnificent hall, lined with servants, who repeat your name to those stationed on the stairs; these again re-echo the sound from one to the other, till you find yourself in a most sumptuous drawing-room of great size, and as I should imagine, forty feet in height. This is at least rather formidable; but the sweetness of the Duchess soon did away every impression but that of admiration. We arrived first, and Lady Charles introduced me with particular distinction to the whole family; and during the whole day I was never, for one instant, unaccompanied by one of the charming Lady Percys, and principally by Lady Emily, the youngest and most beautiful. We sat down sixty-five to dinner, and I was within three of the Duchess.... After dinner, when the Duchess found Lady Charles absolutely refused to stay all night, she resolved at least that I should see the castle, and sent Lady Emily to show me the library, chapel, state bed-rooms, etc. This dear, charming Duchess is generally thought very proud; and Lord Charles says he never knew her so attentive to any young person before.... At nine we went to the Ball; and the room was so bad, and the heat so excessive, that I determined, considering the long journey we had to take, not to dance, and refused my cousin Mitford of Mitford, Mr. Selby, Mr. Alder, and half a dozen more whose names I have forgotten. At half-past ten we took leave of the Duchess and her amiable daughters, and commenced our journey homeward, after a most delightful visit.” On the journey they lost their way and did not arrive at Morpeth until seven o’clock in the morning. The letter concludes:—“Seventy miles, a splendid dinner, and a ball all in one day! Was not this a spirited expedition, my darling? Papa is to be very gay this week with Nat [Nathaniel Ogle]. He left us to-day in excellent health and spirits.”
Mary Russell Mitford.
(From a drawing by Joseph Slater.)
Despite the temporary absence of the Doctor, the gay doings of this triumphal march continued, of which the fullest accounts were dispatched to the delighted mother alone at Bertram House.
These brought letters in return giving, as usual, all the news of the farm and of the progress of events in Reading, which at that time was being engrossed by the Greek Plays, performed with remarkable ability by the boys of the Grammar School under the direction of Dr. Valpy, and by the excitement consequent upon the near approach of a Parliamentary election. In reference to this Miss Mitford wrote to her mother, possibly with a sense of foreboding, for she knew her father’s every weakness:—“I only hope Mr. Shaw Lefevre will be well enough to canvass for himself, without requiring papa’s presence, which would be rather inconvenient at present.”
Doctor Mitford was still enjoying his gay week with Nathaniel Ogle, the arrangement being that upon his return to Morpeth and his daughter he was to conduct her to Hexham, the place of his birth. Meanwhile a short programme of sight-seeing had been mapped out for Miss Mitford, which would occupy the interval remaining before the father and daughter had arranged to meet. Unfortunately, however, the Doctor, upon receipt of an intimation from Mr. Shaw Lefevre’s agent, hurried off to Reading at a moment’s notice, without so much as an apology to his host and with only a hastily scribbled note to his daughter in which he offered no suggestions as to what she should do, practically leaving her to her own devices both in excusing his erratic behaviour and as to finding the means of returning home.
Nathaniel Ogle was furious, the friends in Northumberland were amazed, while Miss Mitford was both distracted and indignant. Between her tears she at once wrote off to her father at Reading, rebuking him with such dignity that, had he possessed any sense of propriety he must, upon reading it, have been thoroughly ashamed.
“It is with great reluctance, my dearest darling, that I am compelled to say that I never have experienced so disagreeable a surprise as in receiving your letter yesterday. What could possibly influence you to prefer Mr. Lefevre’s paltry vanity of being at the head of the poll (for of his election he was certain) to Nat Ogle’s friendship and your daughter’s comfort? Lady Charles leaves Little Harle on the 4th. On the 1st she is obliged to bring me to Morpeth; and she says that she shall be miserable in the idea of leaving me there, for your uncle, you well know, is in a state which must be dreadful to any one, and to a visitor most particularly so. You must have seen, before you left Morpeth, that your uncle’s faculties were very much decayed; and Mary says that his fits of passion are such as to give you the idea of being in a hospital for lunatics.
“Is this a time for me to stay, or my aunt to receive me with any comfort? If you need any other motive to return, I must tell you that Mr. Ogle is extremely offended at your leaving him in this manner; and nothing but your immediately coming back can ever excuse you to him.
“I now implore you to return, and I call upon mamma’s sense of propriety to send you here directly. Little did I suspect that my father, my dear, beloved father, would desert me in this manner, at this distance from home. Every one is surprised. They had thought that your parental affection was the strongest sentiment of your heart, and little thought it would yield so entirely to your friendship for any one. I expect no answer but a personal one, for it is utterly impossible that you should have any motive to detain you so strong as those I have given you for your return.
“I have had a charming excursion, but I am a great deal too much discomposed to give you any particulars of it.... Pray return, my dear papa. You and mamma have ever my warmest affection, but you are rather out of favour at present; yet I am still fondly my Ittey boy’s own
“M. R. MITFORD.”
Two days later she received a letter from her father to say that he had set out for Bertram House which called forth a protest, this time to her mother, to whom she expressed surprise at her father’s singular behaviour.
“Happy as you must always be to see that dear, that most beloved of men, I am persuaded that upon this occasion you would not be pleased at his arrival. It has left me in a most awkward situation, and Mr. Ogle, whom I have just left, is extremely offended at his departure. In the name of goodness, dearest mamma, persuade my own darling to come back again directly.... It is surely a very odd thing for a young woman to be left in this strange manner. I hope you will be able to prevail upon papa to return immediately, or he will lose a very excellent and very attached old friend, and do no material service to the new one, for whose sake he seems to forget all other things and persons.... Much as I love him, it is not from a capricious affection, but from an unfeigned sense of propriety, that I desire his return. Heaven bless you, my dearest, best mamma! I am ever, with the fondest affection, your and my dear runaway’s own
“MARY RUSSELL MITFORD.
“If papa happens to open this letter, he must remember it is meant for mamma, and he must not read it.”
It must be evident, from these letters, that Miss Mitford very keenly felt the thoughtless conduct of her father, not only on account of her own predicament, but because it was creating a very bad impression as to the Doctor’s own character on the Northumbrian relatives and friends.
Fortunately the father’s absence did not put a complete stop to the programme of excursions, although it did much to mar the pleasure of them for at least one member of the party. Details of these excursions were embodied in a succession of further letters to Mrs. Mitford and included an account of a narrow escape from death upon a very steep hill; a visit to Lord Tankerville at Chillingham, where the proud owner personally drove up his famous herd of wild white cattle for his visitor’s benefit; a journey to Chevy Chase, and another dinner at Alnwick Castle. In one of these letters Miss Mitford again reverts to her father’s escapade saying, “there never was so hare-brained a thing done as his running off in this manner,” concluding with “it is impossible to describe how much I long to see my mother, my own darling mother. Nothing can exceed the affection which I am treated with here, or the pains they take to amuse me; but if I stay three weeks longer without seeing you I shall be absolutely miserable. I must never marry, that is certain, for I never should be able to support an absence of three months from my beloved parents.”
A week went by but still the Doctor did not arrive, with the result that Miss Mitford wrote to her mother suggesting that one of the maids be sent off at once to bear her company in the coach to London. The letter plainly indicates that she was not only growing desperate but low-spirited. “Do you know, my dear mamma, that in spite of my little boy having so entirely forsaken and forgotten me (for I have never received even a note from him since his departure), I could not leave the country without seeing his native place, which Lady Charles assures me has no other recommendation than that, as it is perhaps the ugliest town in England. My cousin is so good as to promise to take me there to-morrow if it is a fine day.
“I hope you, my dear mamma, gave him a good scolding for coming without me, for every one else seems to have forgotten me. I think I might slip out of the world now very quietly, without being regretted even by my dog or any one but my darling mamma. Luckily I have no mind to try the experiment.”
The promised visit to Hexham took place the next day.
“We dined at a very wretched inn, for I must confess, in spite of the prepossession I felt in favour of my dear Ittey’s native town, that Hexham is a shocking gloomy place. After dinner I had the pleasure of visiting the house where my darling was born. It has been an extremely good one, and still retains a very respectable appearance; but it is now divided, and on one side of the street door, which still remains, is a collar maker’s shop, and on the other a milliner’s. We entered the latter and purchased three pairs of Hexham gloves, one for papa, one for my dearest mamma, and one for Ammy. I thought that, both as a memorial of the town and of the house, you would like that better than any other trifle I could procure. Our return was very tedious and disagreeable; but I was gratified on my arrival by finding a letter from papa, directed to Morpeth, in which he promises to be there as to-day. I cannot think, my darling, why you did not send him off on Wednesday, for the eating and drinking, and bawling at the Election will do him more harm than twenty journeys. Gog, he says, is very ill. God forgive me, but I do not pity him. He deserves some punishment for endeavouring to play such a trick upon papa and me.”
Gog was the Mitfords’ nick-name for Mr. Shaw Lefevre, on whom in her anxiety to find an excuse for her father’s inexplicable conduct, Miss Mitford strove to fasten the blame for the whole incident. Her complaint was that, in a letter which arrived after her father’s departure, he had “pretended with great quietness and a profusion of thanks to decline papa’s kind offer of coming to his assistance at the time he must have known that his agent had sent for him, and that he would already be in Reading when his letter arrived here: and to fancy any one would be deceived by so flimsy a trick is not a little degrading to our understandings.”
Dr. Mitford returned on November 2, after an absence of exactly twelve days, and just in time to throw himself, with his accustomed abandon, into the turmoil of the Morpeth and Newcastle elections, which closely followed each other during the month. At the end of November, he and his daughter, and Mr. Ogle, with whom he had made his peace, travelled to London together, and so home.
Thus ended the first and only visit Miss Mitford ever paid to the North. In reality it was little short of a triumphal tour for her, made memorable by the excessive kindness which every one seemed determined to lavish upon her. Apart from the period she spent at school, it ranks as the outstanding event of her life and would have been entirely free from any shadow whatsoever but for the incident in which her father was the central and culpable figure.
With a readiness to overlook and condone all his faults—and they were many—she seems to have both forgiven and forgotten the episode, content to dwell only on the brighter memories with which the holiday abounded.
“Years, many and changeful, have gone by since I trod those northern braes; they at whose side I stood, lie under the green sod; yet still, as I read of the Tyne or of the Wansbeck, the bright rivers sparkle before me, as if I had walked beside them but yesterday. I still seem to stand with my dear father under the grey walls of that grand old abbey church at Hexham, whilst he points to the haunts of his boyhood. Bright river Wansbeck! How many pleasant memories I owe to thy mere name!”
It is one of her old-age memories of those wonderful two months in the fall of 1806, and although, as we know, her father was not by her side as she describes, the picture may well stand as a fitting close to the chapter.