It is an interesting circumstance to note that the Epilogue—then considered indispensable—arrived so late that the play proceeded without it, and the manager proposed its omission altogether. “It was simply an added danger,” he said; “could do no good in the case of a failure, and stopped the applause when the play was a success.” It was the first occasion on which such a decision had been given and acted upon.

The proposed remuneration for Foscari was excellent, and the copyright of the play, together with the volume of Dramatic Scenes, were sold for a good figure to Whittaker. The latter work Miss Mitford had to complete, and in writing to Sir William Elford, thanking him for congratulations on Foscari’s success, she told him: “I am just returned from passing a brilliant fortnight in London ... and heard a great deal more literary news than I have head to remember or time to tell. For, alas! my dear Sir William, the holiday time of our correspondence is past. I am now a poor slave of the lamp, chained to the desk as a galley slave to his oar, and am at present triply engaged; for the monthly periodical publications, which I have been too much engaged to supply; to the Annuals, which, to my sorrow, are just on, and have begun dunning me again; and to my own bookseller, who has bought my Dramatic Scenes.”

FOOTNOTES:

[22] Mrs. Frances Trollope, a noted author, died 1863.

[23] Marianne Skerrett—a connection of Macready’s. She subsequently held a position in Queen Victoria’s household, as superintendent of the Queen’s dressers.

CHAPTER XX
MACREADY’S RESERVATION, AND LORD LYTTON’S PRAISE

Notwithstanding the success of Foscari and the apparently overwhelming literary output of its author during the year 1826, it is fairly certain that the financial position of the household at Three Mile Cross remained as before. There had been, of course, the acquisition of the pony and chaise—originally purchased so that Dr. and Mrs. Mitford might take exercise in a form they both enjoyed and, in the case of the latter, certainly required—but this, so far as can be ascertained, was the only extravagance in expenditure that had been indulged in. The production of Foscari—if the run lasted for twenty performances—was to bring in £400, and the copyright of the play and the sale of the Dramatic Scenes was fixed at £150, a total of £550 as estimated income at the end of 1826. Then there were the regular payments from Blackwood’s, and these, together with the odd items gathered from the “Annuals”—the editors of which were actually dunning Miss Mitford for contributions—must have brought the receipts up to considerably over £600, even if we estimate most modestly. Such an income for a family of three persons, plus the housekeeper, maid and odd-man for stable and garden, living in a glorified cottage in a tiny village, seems to us to represent a very comfortable sum upon which to exist for, let us say, twelve months.

And yet in June, 1827, we find Miss Mitford writing to a friend: “We are as poor as poor can be and are ourselves living on credit.” It is true that she added, “we have only received one hundred pounds from the theatre,” but, even so, that would leave an estimated balance of £300—a sum which would scarcely justify such a family in living on credit. Where did the money go? We confess to being nonplussed, and can only suggest that the extravagance and improvidence of Dr. Mitford were still to the fore and still being acquiesced in and glossed over by his daughter, for Mrs. Mitford could hardly be held to blame now that she was unfitted to exercise any control whatever over domestic matters.

These are problems which will never be solved, but of this we can be certain: that Miss Mitford was still working as hard as ever to keep the family ship afloat. A letter to William Harness, written in March, 1827, gives an outline of a new play, Inez de Castro, upon which, after consulting her friends, she worked diligently, and was able to send it up to Kemble during the year 1828.

In addition to this there was in active preparation a third volume of Our Village, the publication of which was arranged for by Dr. Mitford in person. To him, then lodging at “Old Betty’s Coffee House, behind the new church, Strand,” his daughter wrote in February, 1828:—