A Georgian Pageant

by Frank Frankfort Moore

Quentin, who knew of a very nice clean convent—an establishment which they could strongly recommend, and where she could find that complete seclusion which Miss Linley longed for, and their brother Dick was thought to be a very suitable companion for her on her way thither. Mrs. Lefanu (née Sheridan), who wrote out the whole story in after years, mentioned that her chivalrous brother was to provide a woman to act as her maid in the chaise; but as not the least reference to this chaperon is to be found in the rest of the story, we fear that it must be assumed either that her brother forgot this unimportant detail, or that the detail was unavoidably detained in Bath. What is most likely of all is that the solitary reference to this mysterious female was dovetailed, somewhat clumsily, into the narrative, at the suggestion of some Mrs. Grundy, who shook her head at the narrative of so much chivalry unsupported by a responsible chaperon. However this may be, the shadowy chaperon is never alluded to again; she may have faded away into the mists of morning and London, or she may have vanished at the first turnpike. Nothing was seen or heard of her subsequently.

The boy and the girl reached London in safety, and drove to the house of a Mr. Ewart, a relation of the Sheridans, to whom Dick offered the explanation of his unconventional visit on the very plausible grounds of his being engaged to the young lady, a great heiress, whom he was hastening to France to marry. Of course the Ewart family were perfectly satisfied with this explanation; and another friend, who had indisputable claims to consideration, being, we are told, “the son of a respectable brandy merchant in the City,” suggested that they should sail from London to Dunkirk, “in order to make pursuit more difficult.” How such an end could be compassed by such means is left to the imagination of a reader. The young pair, however, jumped at the suggestion, and reached Dunkirk after an uneventful crossing.

It is at this point in the sister's account of the itinerary of this interesting enterprise that she mentions that Richard suddenly threw away the disguise of the chivalrous and disinterested protector of the young lady, and declared that he would not consent to conduct her to the convent unless she agreed to marry him immediately. Mrs. Lefanu's exact words are as follows: “After quitting Dunkirk Mr. Sheridan was more explicit with Miss Linley as to his views on accompanying her to France.”

This is certainly a very lawyer-like way of condoning the conduct of a mean scoundrel; but, happily for the credit of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, it is the easiest thing in the world to discredit his sister's narrative, although she adds that he urged on the girl what would seem to a casual observer of society in general to be perfectly true—“she must be aware that after the step she had taken, she could not appear in England but as his wife.” As the sequel proved this alleged statement was quite untrue! She did appear in England, and not as his wife, and no one seemed to think anything the worse of her on account of her escapade. But to suggest that Sheridan took advantage of the trust which the innocent girl had reposed in him to compel her to marry him, a penniless minor with no profession and very little education, is scarcely consistent with an account of his high-mindedness and his sense of what was chivalrous.

And then the sister pleasantly remarks that “Miss Linley, who really preferred him greatly to any person, was not difficult to persuade, and at a village not far from Calais the marriage ceremony was performed by a priest who was known to be often employed upon such occasions.” Whoever this clergyman may have been, it is impossible for any one to believe that in the discharge of his office he was kept in constant employment; for “such occasions” as answered to the account given by the Sheridan sister of the nuptials of the young couple, must have been extremely rare.

And yet Moore, on whom the responsibilities of a biographer rested very lightly, was quite content to accept as strictly accurate the narrative of Mrs. Lefanu, contradicted though it was by subsequent events in which both her brother and Miss Linley were concerned. Moore does not seem to have troubled himself over any attempt to obtain confirmation of one of the most important incidents in the life of the man of whom he was writing.

He made no attempt to discover if the accommodating priest at the village near Calais was still alive when he was compiling his biography of Sheridan, and it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that he was still alive; nor did this easy-going Irish master of melodies consider that it devolved on him to try to find some record of the marriage in question.

Now what happened after this remarkable union? The narrative of the sister is quite as circumstantial as one could wish it to be, and even more imaginative. But whatever qualities of excellence it possesses, it certainly does not carry to a reader any conviction of accuracy. It states that the interesting young couple went to Lille instead of carrying out their original intention of going to St. Quentin, and that Miss Linley—now Mrs. Sheridan, of course—“immediately secured an apartment in a convent, where it was settled she was to remain either till Sheridan came of age or till he was in a situation to support a wife. He remained a few days at Lille to be satisfied that she was settled to her satisfaction; but, whether from agitation of mind or fatigue, she was taken ill, and an English physician, Dr. Dolman, of York, was called in to attend her. From what he perceived of her case he wished to have her more immediately under his care than he could in the convent, and he and Mrs. Dolman most kindly invited her to their house.”

This would seem to have been very kind indeed on the part of the doctor and his wife, but it so happened that a letter turned up some years ago which the late Mr. Fraser Rae was able to print in the first volume of his admirable Life of Sheridan, and this letter makes it plain that wherever Mrs. Sheridan (née Linley) may have been, she was not sojourning with the Dolmans. It is from Dr. Dolman himself, and it was addressed to “Monsieur Sherridan, Gentilhomme Anglois, à l'Hôtel de Bourbon, Sur la Grande Place.” It recommends the administering of certain powders in a glass of white wine twice daily, and sends “compliments and wishes of health to your lady.”

The question then remains: Was the lady at this time an inmate of the convent, and did the doctor expect “Monsieur Sherridan” to go to this institution twice a day in order to administer the powders to his lady? Would not the doctor think it somewhat peculiar that the husband should be at the Hôtel de Bourbon and his lady an inmate of the convent?