Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq Volume I Part 5

For the moment, this information was death to my hopes, and seemed to strike daggers to my heart; for I was literally over head and ears in love with this unknown lady, merely from what I had heard my father say of her.

But as I could not learn from my father that she had in any way encouraged the hopes of Botham, I felt, after a little reflection, no fears for the result, and without farther consideration, resolutely made up my mind to be his rival. This furnishes a striking example how liable young persons, possessing minds of a sanguine nature, are to be talked into any thing.

The day was fixed for the party, and my poor father little thought that his son, who could not by any process of reasoning be supposed to have any thing more than the common feeling which actuates the minds of young people when they antic.i.p.ate meeting some friends of their own age, he little thought that his son looked forward to the day with a much more intense anxiety than either of the individuals that he expected would play so prominent a character, and on whose account the party was solely made up. The day at length arrived, and my father had made such preparations as he conceived were due to the polite attention and hospitality that he had received at the hands of Mr. Botham. My father was not one of that cla.s.s of personages who are so very common, and who pride themselves upon being match makers; this being the only instance in which I ever knew him to interfere in any thing of the sort; but he, nevertheless, really appeared to enter into this scheme with all the ardour of an old proficient. I believe, however, that he did it with the best of motives, under the full impression that he was serving all parties, as it struck him that it would be an union which bid fair to promote the mutual advantage and happiness of the two families. The reader will indeed perceive that he was not an adept in the art of match making, as, had he been so, he certainly would not have communicated the secret to us young folks.

The dinner hour now approached, and a chaise drove up to the door; containing the two Miss Halcombs, accompanied by their brother, on horseback. My father having introduced them to me, Mr. Halcomb made an apology for the absence of his father who was ill, and presented a letter, which had been sent to him by the coach from Botham, directed for my father. The latter having opened and read it, he looked very grave and disconcerted, and said, addressing himself to the young lady, "I am very sorry to inform you, Madam, that I find by this letter, which I have received from Mr. Botham, that we shall be deprived of the pleasure of his company, in consequence, as he informs me, of his unexpectedly having a large party from town, who have ordered a dinner, which totally precludes the possibility of his leaving home." This caused a slight blush upon the cheek of Miss Halcomb, who very modestly replied, "that she was sorry my father was deprived of the company of his friend; but," looking round to me and my sister, she added with a smile, "we will endeavour to bear the loss with fort.i.tude, and spend the day as pleasantly as we can without him." It might have been very natural for me to feel an inward pleasure at the absence of one whom I had expected to meet as a rival; but to tell the truth, I felt very differently, for I at once set him down as an opponent not worth contending with, and I could not help despising him for his want of gallantry. I had also eagerly watched the countenance of the lady, to endeavour, if possible, to collect whether this Mr. Botham had made any impression upon her heart or not; and from the apathy which it manifested, I felt very little fear on his account. My father was sadly mortified at the circ.u.mstance; both at the absence of his old friend Halcomb, and his new acquaintance Botham. However, we spent a very pleasant day, and, as I had already made up my mind to be, I _was_ over head and ears in love with the lady. My attentions, in fact, were so pointed and unreserved, that I saw that my father began to repent that he had ever had any thing to do with match making.

I found Miss Halcomb not only to possess all the good qualities that my father had ever described, but in my estimation she possessed ten thousand times more charms than my fervid imagination previously formed. My attentions were received with that politeness which was becoming an amiable, a virtuous and an accomplished female, on the first interview with a young man, to whom she had never given one thought before; but it was very flattering to me to find that those attentions were not considered obtrusive or disagreeable. I perceived that my father sat upon thorns, and that he was very much pleased to find that the young ladies declined the invitation of my sister to remain all night, although I added my intreaties to those of my sister, and this too in so earnest a manner, that my father could not refrain from saying that he should be very happy if the young ladies would remain all night with his daughter, but really he was fearful that my _homely way_ of pressing them to stay would be considered as being very rude. Notwithstanding they had made up their minds to go, yet I could see that they were not offended at the _homely way_ (as my father called it) in which I enforced my suit. I enlarged upon the darkness of the evening, the badness of the roads, and a thousand other obstacles which I presented to their view; but when I found that all was in vain; I seized an occasion to withdraw, while they were at tea, and taking off one of the wheels of the chaise I conveyed it un.o.bserved into the rick yard, where I secreted it under some straw. I then returned and took my leave, saying that I had an appointment to meet some friends at a neighbouring fair, which was actually the case. Then, mounting my horse, off I rode. It happened as I had antic.i.p.ated. When the horses were brought out to be put to the chaise, the boy was astonished to find that one of the hind-wheels was gone; and as it was a physical impossibility for any one to find it that night, the young ladies were obliged to accept my sister's offer, in which my father now sincerely joined, since he found that I had left home: though he did not hesitate to p.r.o.nounce me to be the culprit who had, in one of my ridiculous frolics, stolen the wheel off the chaise. Upon my return, I was charged with the act, which I freely confessed, a.s.signing as an excuse, my fears for the safety of the young females, travelling such bad roads in such a dark night.

Within a very few days after this event, I gained Miss Halcomb's consent to ask her father's permission to pay my addresses in form; and within a week from that time, I demanded her hand in marriage. The old gentleman, however, very properly replied, that, although he had no objection to me as a son-in-law, he could not give his consent to any such hasty measure, till he had seen my father, to know if it met with his approbation. I frankly told him that he might save himself the trouble and mortification of applying to my father, who, as soon as I mentioned my attachment to Miss Halcomb, and that I had offered her my hand and heart, (which at the same time I informed him she had kindly accepted,) had thrown himself into a violent pa.s.sion, and swore, that unless I gave up my prize, and abandoned all further intentions of marrying an innkeeper's daughter, he would disinherit me, and cut me off with a s.h.i.+lling. This was quite enough to fix my determination, and I at once told old Mr. Halcomb, that I hoped he would act a more considerate part, for, as I had gained his daughter's consent, and as I was of age, and his daughter very nearly so, all the fathers in Christendom, nor all the powers on earth, should prevent me from making her my wife. The old gentleman very clearly saw that it was of no use to endeavour to deter me from my purpose by vain vows or threats; he therefore took a more rational course; he endeavoured to win me over by persuasion; and at length, by this conciliatory conduct, and by an a.s.surance that he would not stand personally in the way, but that he would take every means consistent with the feelings of a man of honour to soften down the rigour of my father, he prevailed upon me to give up all intention of taking any hasty or premature step, which might involve us all in very unpleasant difficulties. This was a course which was sure to succeed with me, and I promised him that I would do nothing without his knowledge. Now, I am convinced that if Mr. Halcomb had acted in the same way that my father did, if he had forbidden me his house, and endeavoured by force to prevent my access to his daughter, such was my spirit of opposition, such an abhorrence had I of being _driven_ into or out of any measure, such an innate hatred had I of every thing like tyrannical force, that I am quite sure if he had so acted, I having got the lady's consent, I am quite sure I should have run away with her in a week, in spite of all that could have been done to prevent me. If my father, on the contrary, had taken a similar course with Mr. Halcomb, if he had kindly advised me, and endeavoured to prevail upon the by mild and gentle means, I do not say that he would, or that he ought, to, have succeeded in making me give up the lady, but I am quite clear that he would have had a much better chance of success. Nay, if he had appeared careless, and left me to myself, I was at that time of such a volatile disposition, that such a hasty attachment might possibly have been weakened, or it might have worn off by time; but the very course which he took, irrevocably fixed my fate as to marriage. I was of age, and I had always made up my mind that I was, and ought to be, my own master upon this subject. I am still of the same opinion; I still hold that parents have no right to make their children miserable by any arbitrary dictation upon a question of such vital importance as that of whom they shall marry. Parents have an undoubted right, nay it is an imperious duty which they owe to their children, to direct their choice with respect to suitable connections, and they have a right to interpose the authority of their advice and recommendation to their children. But the law of G.o.d and of man says[14], that the parties about to be united ought to exercise their own free choice. The law says that no person shall marry who is under age, without the consent of his or her parents; and the law has very justly drawn this line. The law, therefore, very properly contemplates that no parent shall have the absolute controul over the person of a child in this matter after that child has come of age.

I have, probably, detained the reader much longer upon this subject than is either entertaining or edifying, but as this occurrence paved the way for that important part of my history, my marriage, I feel it a duty which I owe to myself, and to those who do me the honour to read these Memoirs, and more particularly to the Radicals, to be more explicit than I otherwise should be, if the venal press, and particularly the profligate Editors and Proprietors of that press, in order to gratify their political employers and partisans, had not, upon so many occasions, and with such brutal and savage coa.r.s.eness, when they could neither answer my arguments nor contradict the truths that I promulgated, sought to cover their defeat and their infamy by accusing me of having deserted my wife, and left her to starve. Fearless of the consequences, I shall, therefore, as I go along, place the circ.u.mstances fairly and honestly before the public, and leave them to draw their own conclusions, as to the correctness, not to say any thing of the honesty, of the base a.s.sertions which are made by the toots of my political adversaries. At this moment, however, I will merely state briefly this fact, that, in the year 1802, more than eighteen years ago, I was separated from my wife by mutual consent. We had three children; two sons and a daughter. It was agreed that the daughter should live with the mother, and the sons with me; but that both mother and father should have free access to each of the children, and the children the same access to the parents; and as I made a most liberal settlement upon my wife, (the particulars of which I shall not withhold,) there has been no complaint uttered by either party; no living creature ever having heard me make even the slightest insinuation against my wife, or ever cast the most remote reflection upon her character or conduct; neither has it ever come to the knowledge of myself or any of my friends that my wife has spoken one disrespectful word against me. As we have both always lamented, as a misfortune, the circ.u.mstances which led to our separation, so we both have carefully abstained from heightening and adding to the poignancy of that misfortune, by mutual accusations, revilings, and recriminations, which would have been as base as they would have been proved to he unfounded. If, on the contrary, I had deserted my wife, after having, when I was first married, surrounded her by prost.i.tutes and courtezans; if I had been intriguing with every loose and abandoned female that came within the precincts of a profligate circle; if, after having driven her from my home, friendless and unprovided for; if, after having personally insulted her, I had hired spies and informers to traduce her character; if I had employed and paid the most abandoned characters, and had suborned them to swear away her life and her honour; if, when this plot had been detected and exposed, and her innocence had been proved by the very means that I had employed to blast her reputation and to destroy her; if I had still, in the most unfeeling and unnatural manner, separated her from, and cut off all communication with, her child, under the hollow and false pretence that she was not a proper person to be entrusted with the care of her own daughter; if, I say, I had driven her out of the country, and, having done this, if I had hired another gang of base villains, not only to dog and watch her steps, but to seduce and bribe her servants to betray her; if I had rewarded these villains, _even with my own money_, to fabricate and propagate all sorts of calumnies against her abroad, while their infamous agents at home were reiterating and magnifying those falsehoods; if I had bribed the dastardly hireling press to libel and villify her; if in fact, I had carried my persecutions and deadly hatred so far as at last _to break the heart of her daughter_; if, upon her return, I had made another atrocious attempt to destroy her by means of hired, bribed and suborned foreign witnesses; if I had done these things, or any of them, I should have been an execrable and detestable villain, and I should have merited the scorn of every man and woman in the universe: but, even then, even if I had been guilty of all these horrible and unnatural deeds, it would, even under these abhorrent circ.u.mstances, have been base in the extreme in the doubled-faced, black-hearted villains of the _Courier_, the _dull Post_ and the _mock Times_ to attack me in the way they have repeatedly done about my wife; because there are not three _such abandoned profligate unprincipled_ monsters under the canopy of heaven. Even the _virtuous_ Mr.

Perry, of the Morning Chronicle, has, when an occasion offered, endeavoured to varnish over his own character by attacking me about my wife. But, when I remind Mr. Perry that his wife, or at least the person he called one of his wives, was a Miss HULL, a butcher's daughter of the above-named town of Devizes, and that I know that those "who have gla.s.s heads, should be very careful how they throw stones;" I trust he will be more guarded in future.

I now request my readers to accept my apology for this long digression, and, without further comment, I will resume the thread of my narrative. I have now introduced the reader to Miss Halcomb, who was destined to be my wife; and I also have before said that I event to send a Sunday with her at Heytesbury, a distance of nearly thirty miles from my father's house.

The reader will recollect, too, that I had engaged with my father's mowers to meet them at four o'clock on the Monday, morning upwards of three miles from home, in order to attack a field of oats, of seventeen acres and a half, a very heavy crop, to see if we, (five in number,) could not cut them down the same day. The time, however, pa.s.sed so delightfully and so rapidly in the society of an amiable and lovely female, to whom I was betrothed, that the clock had un.o.bserved by me struck twelve more than half an hour; and, before I could muster up resolution enough to tear myself from the clear object of all my hopes, the respectable family, with whom my intended wife was visiting, had given me more than one hint of its being past their usual time of retiring to rest. However, upon another hint being given by the prudent matron of the family, I took my leave, and having mounted my faithful steed I bent my course over the downs, twenty miles across Salisbury Plain. As I quitted the village, or rather the rotten borough, of Heytesbury, the church clock struck _one_; Which for the first time recalled to my recollection the promise I had made, as well as my resolution to perform an uncommon day's mowing, which was to commence at twenty-three miles distance at four o'clock.

With a heart as light as a feather, I reached home at three o'clock, when my father's servant informed me that the mowers had been gone forward nearly half an hour, and that they had left the bottles to be filled and carried to the field by me. Finding that I was rather behind my time, I merely then pulled off my coat and waistcoat, and put on my frock. I did not wait to take off either my tight leather breeches, (which were the fas.h.i.+on at that time,) or my boots; but as soon as the servant had filled the bottles with ale, I mounted a poney, and reached the field of oats, just as the other four men were stripped and whetting their scythes in order to begin; a thing which they had never before had an opportunity of doing, throughout the whole harvest, as the first stroke was uniformly struck by myself. They waited while I threw off my frock and took off my spurs, and having unb.u.t.toned the knees of my breeches, we set to; and in ten minutes after the sun had sunk below the horizon, the last swarth was laid flat, and not an oat left standing; a day's work which stands unrivalled in that country, and which is the more uncommon, as, in fact, there were only four scythes at work during the greater part of the day; for, it being excessively hot, one of the men, the worst mower of course, was princ.i.p.ally employed in riding to and from the Inn at Everly, to replenish the bottles. This was indispensible, every man being allowed as much ale as he could drink, with the exception of the two last bottles, containing three quarts each, which I was obliged to prohibit from being tapped till the oats were all down, as some of my partners by this time began to discover evident symptoms of inebriety. As we finished the last stroke, a very severe flash of lightning announced the approach of a storm, which had been gathering for several hours. I advised the men to hasten home, but they declared, now that the mowing was finished, they would finish the bottles before they left the field, and they kept their words. I hurried home as fast as my pony could gallop, and got in doors just in time to escape one of the most tremendous thunder-storms I ever witnessed; my four companions got jollily drunk, and slept upon the open down, drenched in rain all night; and although I met two of them returning home, the next morning at four o'clock, in a most wretched state, yet such was their hardy nature that neither of them took the least cold.

I have detailed this day's work as the last perhaps of the sort with which I shall trouble the reader. It was, as I have already intimated, such a day's work as had never been accomplished by five mowers before, or has been since, in that part of the world; and it will be recollected that I performed my share with out having had any sleep or rest. But to me, at that time, I never appeared to want any rest--I frequently worked till ten o'clock, and after taking my supper, and conversing with my father, arranging the proceedings for the next morning, I was very often not in bed till after eleven; yet I was very commonly up and dressed again by half past 3, and never in the summer time was in bed after four. It is a very extraordinary fact, that those who labour hard in the fields all day require the least sleep; at all events the smallest quant.i.ty of time in bed; for when they get thither, they enjoy and receive as much real sleep, they receive as much real refreshment in four hours, as the indolent, the idle, or the sedentary do in double the time. When the mind is active and well employed I now find it has the same effect upon me as laborious bodily exercise, for I sleep as sound as a rock here, and when my mind is fully occupied, and kept upon a proper stretch during the day, six or seven hours rest in bed is quite ample; but when my mind is less employed, or occupied by light reading, and not exerted in its usual way, then I require more rest in bed, and I can sleep eight or even nine hours. It is, however, very seldom indeed that I give way to such negligence and sluggishness. I go to rest usually between eleven and twelve, and I am always up before seven. I was always instructed by my father to consider indolence as one of the greatest faults; it was, in fact, a sin of the first magnitude in his vocabulary.--Indolence, he always said was the harbinger of every vice, of every evil. And the Songs of Solomon and his Proverbs were on every occasion ready to support his opinion. He would say to the sluggard, "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise." He would forgive many a fault in a servant, but at habitual lyer in bed, he would get rid of immediately, unless he could break him of the bad habit.

My father for some time was very positive, and very determined to prevent me from marrying an Innkeeper's daughter; and at length I undertook to reason with him upon the subject. I demanded if he knew any thing in the slightest degree affecting the character of the young lady? His answer was "No; quite the reverse." I asked if he had not, at all times, and perpetually, spoken in the highest terms of her conduct, and whether he had not, in my hearing, held her up as a pattern of propriety, and an example to my sisters? All this he admitted to be true: but she had no fortune, and he had expected me to marry a lady of fortune and family; at the same time he pointed out several, whom he should have been pleased to acknowledge as his daughter-in-law. I then demanded, whether, if she were, fit to be held up by him as a pattern for his daughters, she were likely to degrade his son as his wife? But, then, she had no fortune, and she was an Innkeeper's daughter. I begged then to know if he had any thing to urge against her father? No, indeed, he was a truly honourable and upright man.

Then I would reply, "how often, Sir, have I been taught by you, in the language of your favourite author Pope, to look upon "_an honest man as the n.o.blest work of G.o.d._"["] This would make him fly off, and, although he would admit this to be very true, yet he would not give his consent.

At length, having found that I persevered in my visits to the young lady, and having ascertained from my sister that I was preparing for the wedding, he addressed me as follows, one evening when we were alone:--"So, I find from your sister, that you are determined, in spite of my remonstrances, to marry Miss Halcomb? It is very true that, as you are of age, I cannot prevent your union with that young lady; the law empowers you to make your own choice; but, recollect the law does not compel me to.

If you had selected Miss ---- or Miss ----," naming several young ladies of fortune, "I would have come down handsomely, and you might have lived like a gentleman; and if you had chosen to be a farmer, you might have occupied your own estate; but if you '_make a hard bed you must lie upon it._' Although this is a vulgar saying, yet it is a very just one; and you may rely upon it that it applies to your case most pointedly." I began to be impatient, and replied warmly, that I had to thank G.o.d for a sound body and an ardent mind, and I also had to thank him, any father, for the best of instruction and example; and that he had given me a proof, by his own industry and perseverance, that a man might not only be happy, but that he might also acquire wealth, without having much capital to begin with; and that I was not in the least afraid of the effects of lying upon a hard-bed by night, so that I had peace and comfort by day.--"Ah, my dear son," said he, "it is very true that I have devoted my life to business, and by incessant application and industry have acquired a considerable fortune;"

and with tears in his eyes, he added "alas! you are now going, by one false step, to blast my fondest hopes: by this match you are going, in one hour, to beat down and destroy all the bright prospects, all my plans for promoting your future well-being and consequence in life! Do you believe, can you for a moment be so silly as to imagine, that I have toiled from morning till night, that I have laboured with such incessant a.s.siduity, scarcely giving myself time to enjoy even my meals; and do you think that I have been so anxious, merely to get money, merely to acquire riches?

Believe me, my dear son, I have never been led away by any such grovelling notions; I have had higher and more n.o.ble objects in view. In fact, and in truth, my great, my sole aim has always been to make _you a man of consequence_ in the county; and although I know that riches alone will neither make a man happy nor respected, yet without wealth I know not how a man in this country can acquire any celebrity in it. With wealth, if a man have but a common share of understanding, he is at once p.r.o.nounced a wise man, and he is looked up to as a prodigy; when his own native talent alone would not more than fit him for a menial office. Look for instance at our neighbours; there is. Mr. Astley of Everly, who is surrounded by every comfort; he has at his command not only horses, servants, and carriages, but he has a numerous body of tenantry, who submit to be his mere va.s.sals, and will do any act, however dirty or mean, at his nod. He is your commander of the troop of Yeomanry; he keeps hounds; and has many manors well stocked with game; and he is a Magistrate of the county, and ignorant as he is, yet he dispenses the laws, or rather issues his arbitrary mandates to the whole surrounding neighbourhood. In fact, he possesses great power, and _all his power is derived from his wealth alone._ Let me ask you, who know him well, what would he be without his wealth? Strip him of his estates and his riches, what would he be fit for?

I wait," said he firmly, "for your honest reply."--The question was put so home and so unexpected, and when I turned my thoughts towards our gallant captain, without wealth and power, he presented to my imagination such a _forlorn, helpless, wretched being_--that I actually burst out a laughing.

"Really," said my father, "I am not in a laughing mood; but tell me, seriously, if you know of any situation in life in which, either on the score of his talent, his knowledge, or his ability of any kind, he would be capable of keeping his wife and family from starving? Tell me honestly whether, if he were left to provide for himself, you do not think he would be upon the parish books in a fortnight?"

I answered that, in my opinion, no one who knew the captain would, for a moment, dispute the correctness of the conclusion which he had drawn; but, I added, "I hope, Sir, that you do not compare me to such a man as Captain Astley; and I hope, too, that you will allow me to ask you a question in return. Do you not believe, Sir, that if I, your son, were obliged to go to day-labour to-morrow, I could earn sufficient to support, not only myself, but also a wife and family, by that sort of industry and zealous application which I have always shewn in your business?" The reply was, "I know you are able and willing to do as much as any man; but, do you consider that I have given you an education which cost me upwards of five hundred pounds, and have you spent ten years and a half of your life at the best schools, under the best masters whom I could procure you, only to enable you to earn twenty or thirty s.h.i.+llings a week as a day-labourer; have you, no higher ambition than that?"

I rejoined warmly, "Yes, Sir, my ambition made me always aspire to much higher things and so did the treatment which I always received from you heretofore; but now, that you talk of abandoning me to 'lie upon a hard bed,' and intimate that, unless I give up the object of my choice, I am not to expect any thing from you, the scene is changed, and, under such circ.u.mstances, my spirit would, I trust, never suffer me to be dependent upon any one, while I have health and strength to obtain an honest though a plain livelihood."

I plainly perceived that this sort of reasoning did not suit my father, he reddened, and sneeringly exclaimed, "your spirit, indeed! I suppose your spirit will ultimately induce you to drive one of your intended father-in-law's coaches; or, perhaps, you may be promoted to the situation of head-ostler, and that will be a post considerably above a day-labourer." This was said with a degree of bitter ironry that was little calculated to lead me into submission. By such a course he meant to work upon my pride, but his language produced a contrary effect to that which he intended: for I found any indignation arise to such a pitch, that I sternly answered "No, sir! whatever you may think of my spirit, you will find that I inherit too much of my father's character either to degrade myself by any such course, or be intimidated by any false notions of pride, from doing that which is honourable."

Having said this, I quitted the room, without waiting for a reply, and retired to bed much earlier than usual. I was, however, too much ruffled to go to sleep, and, after having tossed and turned about for half an hour, I suddenly rose, dressed myself, walked quietly down stairs, and going into the back kitchen I put on my boots, and then went deliberately into the stable, where I saddled my horse, and in a few minutes I was on my road to Devizes. I arrived at that place just as the family were locking up to go to rest, and, while a bed was preparing for me, I explained to Miss H. the object of my visit, which was to demand her hand from her father in the morning, and to fix the day of our nuptials before I left the house. The lady had often before witnessed, with some degree of pain, the warmth of my disposition, for I was, as I have already hinted, of a sanguine, volatile nature; and she had always observed, that, when bent upon any particular object, I was never deterred, and seldom persuaded, from attempting to accomplish it; but she had never before seen me so determined and resolved upon any point as I now was. She endeavoured, nevertheless, to persuade me from so rash a step; arguing that she had little hope of her father being brought over to comply with my wishes, by means of any such peremptory arguments as I had used to her.

But it was all in vain. I a.s.sured her that before I left the house, I would solicit her father's consent to fix the day for our wedding; and that, if he refused to comply, I should demand the performance of her promise, to consent at once to our union without it. She first reminded me of her being under age, and next, with a degree of firmness that I did not expect, she expressed considerable doubts about acceding to my demand, under such circ.u.mstances. I hastily, and as firmly, added, that the day should be fixed before I left the house, _or never_. She started at my vehement and peremptory manner, and with much good sense, began to reason with me, and to shew how ill-calculated such overbearing proceedings were either to prevail upon her father, or, what was of more consequence, to secure her love. If before marriage I evinced such an arbitrary disposition, and uttered my commands in such a peremptory tone, what security, she said, should she have for my not playing the tyrant afterwards? She, therefore, not only felt it to be her duty to refuse, but really I had so alarmed her, that she could not give her consent under any such sort of threat; as her compliance would appear to come rather from terror than inclination. This was followed by her bursting into tears, occasioned by the exertion she had made to tell me her resolve. I repeated my protestations, and did every thing to soothe her fears, and, as she was now summoned by her sister to retire to rest, we parted for the night, both of us in a very wretched state of mind.

Affected as I was by her agitated feelings, my composition was of too determined a nature to allow me to give way; having once determined, nothing but death could have deterred me from persevering, and, while I was going to bed, I deliberately resolved to keep my word. Nor was this only the start of the moment; on the contrary, I am quite sure that had not the parties complied with my wish, to fix the day before I left the house, I should never have been the husband of Miss Halcomb.

I was resolved to be plain and honest with the father, and to disguise nothing from him, and in case he should refuse his consent, I was equally resolved to leave nothing untried to gain the consent of the lady; if she withheld it I had brought myself, much as I loved her, to give up for ever all hopes, all intention, of being united, or of having any further communication, with her. With this determination I went to sleep, though with full confidence that I should succeed, notwithstanding the repulse I had received from her before we parted. My fair readers, will, I fear, call me a conceited puppy for my pains; but I a.s.sure them it was not vanity; it was part of my nature to be sanguine and determined in any thing, in every thing, that I undertook; for I believed that success seldom completely crowned an enterprise, unless he who wished to obtain it had confidence that he should succeed.

When I came to the breakfast table in the morning, I could perceive that the fair object of my hopes had not enjoyed so much repose as I had done daring the night. Her heart appeared to be ill at ease. I had never slept better or sounder in my life. This is another extraordinary part of my composition, or rather of my const.i.tution; namely, the physical operation of the Mental power over the animal frame. The more intense the operation of my mind during the day, the better do I sleep at night; the greater the object which I have to accomplish in the morning, the more serene is my sleep; so that when I have any weighty business to perform that requires the exertion of my whole mental as well as bodily powers, instead of being agitated with the anxiety arising from the importance of the undertaking, I am quite the reverse, I am perfectly tranquil, I am sure to sleep well; and to awake so much refreshed in the morning, as to enable me to commence the business of the day not only with vigour, but also with my senses quite collected, and with the greatest calmness of mind.

I appeared upon this occasion so easy and so quiet, yet altogether so determined, that I often afterwards heard my wife say that she, for the first time, began to suspect the sincerity of my pa.s.sion; its ardour she never doubted. The fact was, that if I had harboured all the doubts that she did, as to the success of my application to her father, I might have felt as uneasy as she did; and should have been thereby rendered incapable of successfully combating his arguments or objections.

The moment the breakfast was over I requested a private conference with him, when I honestly told him every thing that had pa.s.sed between my father and me, and that I had given up all hopes of gaining his consent, adding, that I had come to the resolution of laying the case fairly before him, but that I was determined to have his answer at once whether he would consent to our union, so that a day might be fixed, or whether he would leave me to do my best to obtain his daughter's consent, which I was resolved to do in case of his opposing my wishes.

Seeing my determination, the old gentleman answered that, although he lamented the absence of my father's sanction, yet he would keep his word with me and his daughter, and would not withhold his consent, if it were her desire that he should give it. He valued the happiness of his child he said, and, as he thought I had always acted a fair and open part with him, he would do the same by me. He would, however, leave it entirely to his daughter; if she chose to fix the day he would not object to it; and if it were so, he would do all in his power to render us happy. He likewise expressed a sincere hope that his old friend, my father, would do nothing to make us otherwise, and that he would become reconciled to the match hereafter, even if he would not give his consent before. Mr. Halcomb then, for the first time, hinted what sum he intended to give his daughter as a portion. I told him that, for the present, I would hear nothing of the sort; that, as my father would not enable me to make a settlement upon his daughter, I would trust entirely to him, and that I never wished him to mention the subject to me till we were married.

I now flew to the young lady with the joyful tidings, and was received, as I expected, with open arms; and before ten o'clock that evening the day was fixed for our wedding, about six weeks from that time. Thus was I, at the age of twenty-two, and very young and inexperienced of my age also, about to take a wife against the consent of my father, without a house, a home, or twenty pounds in the world and perfectly careless whether her father gave its five or five hundred pounds. To have a wife was my determination, and, now the day was fixed, I returned to my father's house, and entered into his business again with all my usual zeal and a.s.siduity.

The first opportunity I informed him of the arrangement that was made, upon hearing which he flew into a violent pa.s.sion, and vowed vengeance.

Nor did he fail to try the last effort, which was to endeavour to make Mr.

Halcomb's pride operate, so as to prevent the match. The next market day he had a private interview with him, and did every thing in his power to accomplish his object. His opponent had the best of the argument, but he retorted his insinuations with such a degree of spirit, that, for a while, my father had hopes of success. Mr. Halcomb, however, soon crushed his hopes, by telling him that he had given me and his daughter his word, and that nothing which he had said in his anger should induce him to break it.

My father when requested to see the young lady, which was readily a.s.sented to. In the course of his interview with her, he made every effort to persuade her to abandon such a "_mad project_," as he was pleased to term it, and she listened to, and answered, all his arguments with great modesty and forbearance. He urged the folly of such a match, and told her he was sure she would live to repent it; he warned her that such sudden and inconsiderate unions seldom if ever turned out well; he pointed out to her my hasty, enthusiastic, volatile disposition; he said that I had seen nothing of the world, and that, whatever might be her charms, when I got into the world I might see other objects that might induce me to repent of having been so hasty; he mentioned the probability of a large family of children, without the means of supporting them; in fact, he tried every thing that man could do; he begged, he prayed, and he threatened. All was in vain. The only promise that he could obtain from her was, that she would inform me of all he said, and that she would leave the decision to me.

This to him was worse than no promise at all, and he retired to the market room and took his dinner, perfectly dissatisfied with the little, or gather no progress which he had made. However, when the evening came, instead of calling for his horse to go home as usual, he sent for Halcomb, and told him that, as it was a dark evening, and he was not very well, if he would permit him, he would drink tea and spend the evening with his family, and take a bed there that night. Mr. Halcomb, who was a warm-hearted, generous, forgiving fellow, readily pardoned all the insulting language that he had heard in the morning, accepted his offer by a hearty shake of the hand, and without further ceremony introduced him into his private room to his family. Mrs. Halcomb, however, the mother-in-law of the lady, having learned what had pa.s.sed in the morning, and expecting nothing less than a fresh attempt to frustrate the match, no sooner fixed her piercing eyes upon him, after he was seated, than she drew up, and without waiting for any explanation, began to resent the insult which he had offered to her profession. He, however, demanded a parley, and a truce to all hostility, as he was come to offer the olive branch; a.s.suring her that as a match could not be avoided, he was determined to make the best of what must be endured. In the course of the evening he had a private interview with the young lady, and after extorting a solemn pledge from her that she would not inform me of it till we were married, he gave her his consent and promised to acknowledge her as his daughter-in-law. This solemn pledge to keep silence till our union was completed he made her give, because he wished to see how far I would go without his consent; and she kept her word; although the fact certainly came to my knowledge through a third person. My father took the first opportunity of telling me that, as I was determined to marry against his will, he should do but little for me, compared to what he would have done if I had married to please him. He would, he said, give me, or rather he would lend me, the stock upon Widdington farm, and I might begin to furnish my house as soon as I pleased; but I must do this out of the fortune which I was to have with my wife. There was a most excellent stock upon this farm, the rent of which was three hundred pounds a year. There were[15] fifteen or sixteen hundred of the finest Southdown sheep, the very best in the county, as this was a fine sheep farm, in fact, princ.i.p.ally so; twelve cows; six most valuable cart horses, and all other live and dead stock complete. With this arrangement I was perfectly content, and indeed it was much better than I had any reason to expect.

The farm was, in reality, a very beautiful one, with a very good house, and all necessary appendages attached to it. I now seemed to be in a fair way of obtaining the height of my ambition. This happy intelligence I lost no time in communicating to the family at Devizes, and the necessary orders [16] were given without delay. I left it all to the lady, as it was to be paid for out of her fortune. Few young men entered into life with fairer prospects in the farming line; very few farmers in the county had such a stock of all sorts; in truth, nothing was wanting.

The happy day at length arrived. It was the twelfth of January. My sister, who was to be one of the bride-maids, and my friend the clergyman of Enford, who was to marry us, [17] went over with me in a chaise. Upon retiring to rest, having undressed myself, I sat down in an easy chair, meditating upon the serious engagement into which I was to enter on the morrow. In this situation I fell fast asleep, and did not awake till three o'clock in the morning, when I had caught a dreadful cold, and was in a s.h.i.+vering fit, which I could not get rid of till I arose in the morning. I was excessively ill the whole of the day. We were taken to the church in a post coach, and being married we returned to breakfast, where a large party was a.s.sembled to greet us. We were engaged to dine at the Castle, at Marlborough, which Inn was kept by my wife's brother. We, the married couple, in a chaise, and two post coaches, each with four beautiful grey horses, with the rest of the party, accordingly set out to Marlborough, where we spent the day, during the whole of which I suffered great pain, being all the time extremely ill. We returned to Devizes to tea, after taking which we were to go home to Widdington. Just as we were about to start, Mr. Halcombe took me aside with his son into the next room, and holding out a canva.s.s bag, he said, "here, my son, is all that I can afford to give you with my daughter. In this bag is a thousand pounds. I wish it were ten times as much; but, such as it is, may G.o.d grant you to enjoy it! I have no doubt but it will wear well, as it was got honestly."

This again was more than I expected, as the only time I had ever permitted him to speak about money, the old gentlemen hinted at no more than five hundred pounds; but I believe my father had said something which made him double the sum. I thanked him most heartily; not forgetting to add, that his daughter was the prize at which I had aimed, and not the money. He replied, that he should give his other daughter the same, without trenching upon what he meant to give his sons. In fact, he had at this time provided for them. However, before we parted, one of his sons, William, who was then the manager of the Bear, called me on one side, and said, that as his brother James was just going into business, if I had no particular use for the money, he should be obliged if I would lend him 500_l_. of it, upon their joint notes. I instantly complied, told out half my wife's portion, and lent it to her brother, upon his word to give me a note for it, which he did the first time that I saw him afterwards. I believe, if they had asked me for the whole thousand, I should cheerfully have parted with it to them. The five hundred pounds remained in their hands for nearly ten years, and was not withdrawn by me till several years after my separation from my wife. I mention this circ.u.mstance merely to shew how these gentlemen felt as to my separation from their sister. In fact they as well as myself considered it to be a misfortune which ought to be lamented on all sides, rather than as a reason for entertaining any vindictive feeling towards me.

We now set off in a coach towards our future residence, Widdington Farm, a distance of ten miles. The company consisted of myself, the bride, her sister and mine, who were the two bride maids, and the clergyman. I had, by this time, completely recovered from the effect of my cold; but, what was rather remarkable, before we had accomplished half our journey, we discovered that the bride had suddenly lost her voice, without feeling any pain or illness. So completely had she lost it, that she could not articulate a single syllable, otherwise than in a whisper. I was very much alarmed at first, but as she a.s.sured us it was only a cold, and that she felt not the least pain or uneasiness whatever; and as, with perfect good humour, she congratulated me on being about to take to my home "a quiet wife," the alarm gradually pa.s.sed off.

Widdington Farm lies about a mile from the turnpike road, and when the carriage turned out of the high road I was obliged, as it was dark, to get on the coach box to direct the post boys; and, after considerable difficulty, we reached the house; it being a road over which a chaise probably had not pa.s.sed since my father left the farm, twenty years before this period. Although every thing was prepared comfortably for our reception, yet a lone farm, in a valley upon the downs, which compose Salisbury Plain, and not a house within a mile, was quite a different thing from the cheerful scenes to which Mrs. Hunt and her sister had been accustomed. A deep silence reigned around; not a tree nor even a bush was to be seen; and, since we left the turnpike road, the carriage having pa.s.sed over the turf for nearly the last mile, the well-known sound of wheels rattling over the stones had never once vibrated upon the ears of those who were so much accustomed to it; altogether, it was so very different from every thing to which the ladies had ever before been habituated, that, even after I had introduced them into the parlour, which was well lighted up, and where the hospitable board seemed almost to invite their welcome, yet I could see that Miss Halcombe looked at her sister almost in a state of despondency, as much as to say, "G.o.d of Heaven! what enchanted castle are we come to at last?" However, when we were once seated round the table, with the door closed, the solitary gloom speedily vanished, for we soon made it appear that there was as much cheerfullness to be obtained in a lone farm house as there was in one of the most public and best frequented inns upon the Bath road. Miss Halcombe, as a matter of delicacy, had always declined to see this residence before she was married, notwithstanding I had repeatedly pressed her to ride over and give orders about the arrangement of the house, and other domestic affairs. During the first fortnight that we were married, my wife never spoke one word louder than a whisper. At the end of that time her voice returned, to the great joy of myself and all her friends.

The honeymoon pa.s.sed with uninterrupted felicity; in fact it was a honeymoon all the year round, and we were blessed with an endearing pledge of our loves before the honeymoon appeared even in its wane. Nearly a year had now gone by in one unbroken scene of pleasure and gay delight. My wife was of a cheerful disposition, and fond of company, in which I most cordially partic.i.p.ated, and consequently we were seldom without plenty of visitors. As soon as we were married I purchased two more horses and a gig; thus my establishment at once consisted of three horses and a gig, and when to these are added grey-hounds and pointers, &c. &c. the reader will perceive that I cut a das.h.i.+ng figure, whether at home, at the table, in the field, or on the road. I drove two thorough-bred mares in a tandem, with which I could and did accomplish, in a trot, fourteen miles within the hour; I was almost always the first in the chase, having become a subscriber to a pack of hounds; and my pointers were as well bred, and as well broken, as any sportsman's in the county.

I was now become that of which my father had always entertained the greatest dread; namely, a complete sportsman. Frequently when he called, I was from home, either hunting, shooting, or partaking of the social society which is the concomitant of those who delight in the sports of the field. He would ride round my farm, but there all was in the most regular order, and he could find no other fault with any thing he saw going on there than the absence of the master. Yet he was uneasy; for he well knew that the profits of Widdington Farm would not support such extravagance and revelry as he was pleased to call it. The stock, it is true, was in good order, and the crops were well cultivated, and thriving; never better. Still he was not ignorant of the expense attending a house always thronged with visitors, a stable and kennel full of horses and dogs, and the master entering with ardour into the sports of the field. He remonstrated; but I was young, thoughtless and giddy; my wife was the same. Rent-day came. Three hundred pounds was due to Mr. Wyndham for rent; my father knew I was not prepared; he was certain, from the manner in which I had lived, that[18] I could not have saved any money. Without saying one word to me on the subject, he paid the rent himself. But he did not fail again to urge the strongest remonstrances. No farm in the county was in better condition, or better looked after; the times were good; and if the farm had been my own, I could just have managed to live in a very respectable way; for no man knew better how to make the most of every thing, and very few put it into practice more rigidly than I did; yet, on the other hand, I could very well manage to spend all the gains whatever they were, and as my father paid the rent, as well as stocked the farm, it was quite as good as if it were my own. My father, however, threatened me, and remonstrated with my wife, on our keeping so much company, and being guilty of such extravagance. But she could not be induced to think that we did any thing in a more extravagant way than we were bred up to, which was very true; and, as I was full as p.r.o.ne to the enjoyment of society as she was, we seldom refused an invitation, and never failed to return it.

Christmas arrived, and with it, of course, the social merry-making that at this time was kept up with the greatest spirit in this part of the country; where every one gave a Christmas feast, which was attended by all the neighbours for several miles round. We were invited to the first. Some difficulty presented itself with respect to Mrs. Hunt's accepting the invitation, as our daughter was only two months old; but this impediment was soon removed. The little child was in excellent health, and the nurse, it was thought, would take great care of it in the mother's absence. This was settled as much to my satisfaction as to that of my wife: for I enjoyed little pleasure unless she was with me to partake of it.

When the day came, we mounted our horses and she being an excellent horsewoman, we galloped off to meet our friends at a distance of four miles, and we reached the place without the slightest accident, though it was one of the most severe frosts I was ever out in. About three o'clock the next morning we returned in the same way. I shall never forget the look of my father, when he saw her come into the room, and involuntarily exclaimed "for G.o.d's sake, Mrs. Hunt, where is your child?" She answered it was at home. He turned his eyes up and said no more; but I felt this as a most severe rebuke, and for the, first time I began to think that a mother leaving her child was not quite so proper. He soon took an opportunity to speak to me aside, and having asked me whether I was mad, to bring my wife away from a young sucking child in such weather, he added, "you acted very prudently and firmly, I understand, when, your child was born, as to her suckling it, but now you are going to destroy the child by suffering the mother to remain from it twelve or fourteen hours at a time." I listened, indeed, to this wholesome advice; but, in the thoughtlessness of my heart, unfortunately, I pa.s.sed it of without paying it that attention, to which, coming from one with such experience as my father had, it was so well ent.i.tled.

What my father alluded to, about my firm conduct when my child was born, was this. My mother having always nursed her own children, I was bred up with the notion that it ought to be so, and I still entertained the greatest antipathy to my offspring sucking any other woman but its mother.[19] My father had, on his side, already guarded me against all the arts and tricks played off by gossips, upon such an occasion. Upon this subject, therefore, I had always expressed a strong and decided feeling to my wife, in which she appeared to partic.i.p.ate.

When the child was born, the mother was attended by the mother-in-law, and two or three matrons, besides the midwife, &c. &c. They all knew my determination about the mother nursing the child, and every attempt was apparently made to carry it into effect. At length a hint was given of some fears as to its practicability. I would not listen to it[20] for a moment. Another hint was given, and then a broader and a broader hint; but I still made light of it, and said we would persevere. On consulting with my wife I found there was no natural impediment, and that she was well disposed to exert herself, to comply with my wishes; but I found that the gossips, and particularly the mother-in-law, had been labouring to impress on her mind, not only that there was a difficulty, but that there was an inconvenience, and even impropriety. I was not to be deterred from my purpose, and did every thing in my power to persuade her to persevere. I saw that the child enjoyed the breast very much, and that it did not give the mother so much pain as I had apprehended; and my mind was, therefore, more resolved than ever to carry this point; although I had never before had to contend with such powerful antagonists as the gossips, who affected to treat my knowledge upon such matters with ridicule, and my interference in them as preposterous and indecent. I ways, however, _t.w.a.ttle proof_; I heard all they had to say, but I stuck to my point like a hero; and I took care not to leave the house long at a time, for fear some scheme to thwart my views should be put in execution.

At the end of two days, in the evening after supper, the grand attack was made, by three matrons and the nurse, with the Dr. or mid-wife, whom they appeared to have enlisted into the service; though as he was a reasonable, intelligent man, I was not in the least afraid of his hostility, and particularly as I had previously consulted him upon the subject, and found that I was perfectly correct as to there being no natural impediment in the mother. While the Dr. was taking his grog with me, they all, according to their previously settled scheme, came down stairs in a body, and all burst upon me at once; loudly declaring, that they would not force the poor weak mother any longer to destroy herself by such a course, that the child must certainly die, that it was starved already, and that, unless I would suffer them to send for a wet nurse in the morning they would leave the house, and I might stay and kill the child myself, for that they would not remain to be witnesses of the murder.

I saw through the premeditated a.s.sault, and was immoveably silent. One said that it was cruel; another said that it was indecent; a third that it was hard-hearted; and a fourth that I did not deserve such a wife or such a child, for I wished to kill the one and break the heart of the other.

Had I not been cautioned by my excellent father, who, even to the very letter of this attack, had told me what was likely to happen, I should never have been able to withstand the treble-toned battery of their tongues. The doctor, meanwhile, said not a word, unless it was in reply to a question put by some one of the ladies, and then he took care to answer in a very equivocal manner, for he saw my usual determination settled upon my brow. I told them at last; that if they would remain below, I would go up and consult my wife; I found her bathed in tears; for they had not only prepared her for the occasion, but they had actually worked upon her fears for the safety of the child, so far as to persuade her that the child would be starved, and that she had not milk enough to keep it alive. I soothed her; I reasoned with her; for I dearly loved her. I a.s.sured her that the child was in the most perfect health, as was evident from its having never cried a minute since it was born; which was now nearly three days; that it was contented, and I was sure it would do well; and that she herself would ultimately thank me for persevering against the will of the gossips. Her tears were soon dried up, and the pretty babe being again placed by her side with my own hands, she was quite convinced that it was neither necessary nor prudent to give way always, even to gossips.

Having left the child comfortably asleep, and the mother happy, her fears being now dissipated, I returned down stairs to the enraged matrons. I found them all on the tip-toe of expectation, to hear what I had to say, I told them that I had no doubt but the mother and child would do very well, if they would leave her alone; but this enraged them more than ever. They insisted that the mother should at least have the help of a wet-nurse.

"Well," said I, very calmly, but very determinedly, "if it most be so, it must. If you are of the same mind to-morrow, and the doctor confirms your opinion, that the child requires more milk, I will kill the puppies, and it shall suck my beautiful setter _Juno_, with all my heart; but, by G--d!

it shall never taste the milk of another woman, while its mother is alive, and as well able to nurse it as she now is."

I said this in such a tone, and with such a manner, as would not admit of any further reply, and the gossips all marched off to bed, abusing me for a great brute; but, as they afterwards told me, applauding me for displaying so much resolution, in spite of their cabal and plot against me being frustrated. When they were gone, the doctor, Robert Clare of Devizes, most heartily congratulated me upon my success; adding, that he never saw such a complete victory gained against such fearful odds, since he had been in the practice; which was upwards of twenty years. I have related this circ.u.mstance as a matter of duty, for the information and guidance of all young persons, who may he placed in a similar situation, and who may not have had the advantage of such good and able advice, as that which was given me by my excellent father, rather than as boasting of any merit of my own. Never was a child born that was nursed better, and thousands of blessings did the mother afterwards bestow upon me, for my perseverance, by which she was enabled to enjoy the most delightful of all sensations, that of nursing her own offspring.

Let us now return to my story. The very first time that this child ever had a moment's illness was the day after my wife returned from the first Christmas party. This illness was very severe, and it caused great restlessness; the infant was, indeed, so unwell, that Mrs. Hunt sent an excuse to the party the next day by me, she being determined to stay at home and take care of her child, in which resolution I concurred. Still I had no idea that the dear little thing would not do very well again, though I was now convinced of the propriety of my father's rebuke, and had not the least doubt in my own mind that the illness was occasioned by the mother's long absence from her child. I went to the dinner, and my father was the first to applaud Mrs. Hunt's prudence in remaining at home; although, when he heard of the illness of the child, he observed, "The experience that is bought is the best, so that it is not purchased too dear."

About eleven o'clock at night a message was brought me by a servant, to say that my child was very ill, and to beg that I would immediately return home. I mounted my horse, and reached my house half as hour before the servant, who was upon another horse. When I entered the room--Oh G.o.d! the child was lying dead in its mother's lap, and that mother was sitting speechless, with her eyes riveted upon her lifeless offspring.--I instantly caused the little delicate corpse to be removed. It had a smile upon its lip, and looked as transparent as alabaster; for it had died without a groan or a struggle. My wife sat petrified; she had never moved nor spoken since the infant had breathed its last, which was nearly an hour. The servants were fearful even to touch her or the child; she still sat motionless with her eyes fixed upon her lap, the spot whence her child had been removed, and where she had seen it breathe its last. She took not the least notice of me, neither did she oppose the removal of the child.

Her look was vacant and heart-rending. I tried in vain every means to rouse her; at length I carried her to her room, and having bathed her feet in warm water, I was ultimately blessed by witnessing the return of her reason, which was accompanied by a copious flow of tears.

During the round of gaiety and pleasure which I had enjoyed since I was married, this was the first check that I had received; but young, thoughtless, and giddy, as we were, it was a most severe one, both to myself and my wife. Nor was it merely the loss of our offspring that occasioned the sorrow of my wife. Her grief was rendered infinitely more poignant by the circ.u.mstance of the deceased infant never having been baptised. The babe had, in fact, been so healthy, so perfectly free from the slightest appearance of disease, that we had never thought of sending for the clergyman of the parish to have the ceremony performed; particularly as we intended to have it christened so soon as the nineteenth of January, which was the first anniversary of our wedding day.

The delay will, I am sure, b