Autobiography, Letters and Literary Remains of Mrs. Piozzi Part 13

Madame D'Arblay mentioned the same circ.u.mstance in conversation to the Rev. W. Harness: yet it seems strange in connection with an entry in "Thraliana" from which it would appear that her friend was far from wanting in susceptibility to sweet sounds:

"13 _August_, 1780.--Piozzi is become a prodigious favourite with me, he is so intelligent a creature, so discerning, one can't help wis.h.i.+ng for his good opinion; his singing surpa.s.ses everybody's for taste, tenderness, and true elegance; his hand on the forte piano too is so soft, so sweet, so delicate, every tone goes to the heart, I think, and fills the mind with emotions one would not be without, though inconvenient enough sometimes. He wants nothing from us: he comes for his health he says: I see nothing ail the man but pride.

The newspapers yesterday told what all the musical folks gained, and set Piozzi down 1200_l_. o' year."

On the 24th August, 1780, Madame D'Arblay writes: "I have not seen Piozzi: he left me your letter, which indeed is a charming one, though its contents puzzled me much whether to make me sad or merry."

Mrs. Thrale was still at Brighton; so that the scene at Dr. Burney's must have occurred subsequently; when she had already begun to find Piozzi what the Neapolitan ladies understand by _simpatico_. Madame D'Arblay's "Memoirs," as I shall have occasion to point out, are by no means so trustworthy a register of dates, facts, or impressions as her "Diary."

Whilst Thrale lived, Mrs. Thrale's regard for Piozzi was certainly not of a nature to cause scandal or provoke censure, and as it ripened into love, it may be traced, step by step, from the frankest and fullest of all possible unveilings of the heart. Rare indeed are the instances in which such revelations as we find in "Thraliana"

could be risked by either man or woman, without giving scope to malevolence; and they should not only be judged as a whole and by the context, but the most favourable construction should be put upon them. When, in this sort of self-communing, every pa.s.sing emotion, every transitory inclination, is set down, it would be unfair and even foolish to infer that the emotion at once became a pa.s.sion, or that the inclination was criminally indulged.

The next notice of Piozzi occurs in Madame D'Arblay's "Diary" for July 10th, 1781:

"You will believe I was not a little surprised to see Sacchini. He is going to the Continent with Piozzi, and Mrs. Thrale invited them both to spend the last day at Streatham, and from hence proceed to Margate.... The first song he sang, beginning 'En quel amabil volto,'

you may perhaps know, but I did not; it is a charming mezza bravura.

He and Piozzi then sung together the duet of the 'Amore Soldato;' and nothing could be much more delightful; Piozzi taking pains to sing his very best, and Sacchini, with his soft but delicious whisper, almost thrilling me by his exquisite and pathetic expression. They then went through that opera, great part of 'Creso,' some of 'Erifile,' and much of 'Rinaldo.'"

Piozzi's attentions had attracted Johnson's notice without troubling his peace. On November 24th, 1781, he wrote from Ashbourne: "Piozzi, I find, is coming in spite of Miss Harriet's prediction, or second sight, and when _he_ comes and _I_ come, you will have two about you that love you; and I question if either of us heartily care how few more you have. But how many soever they may be, I hope you keep your kindness for me, and I have a great mind to have Queeny's kindness too."

Again, December 3rd, 1781: "You have got Piozzi again, notwithstanding pretty Harriet's dire denunciations. The Italian translation which he has brought, you will find no great accession to your library, for the writer seems to understand very little English.

When we meet we can compare some pa.s.sages. Pray contrive a mult.i.tude of good things for us to do when we meet. Something that may _hold all together_; though if any thing makes _me_ love you more, it is going from you."

We learn from "Thraliana," that the entanglement with Piozzi was not the only one of which Streatham was contemporaneously the scene:

"_August,_ 1781.--I begin to wish in good earnest that Miss Burney should make impression on Mr. Crutchley. I think she honestly loves the man, who in his turn appears to be in love with some one else--Hester, I fear, Oh! that would indeed be unlucky! People have said so a long while, but I never thought it till now; young men and women will always be serving one so, to be sure, if they live at all together, but I depended on Burney keeping him steady to herself.

Queeny behaves like an angel about it. Mr. Johnson says the name of Crutchley comes from _croix lea_, the cross meadow; _lea_ is a meadow, I know, and _crutch_, a crutch stick, is so called from having the handle go _crosswise_."

"_September,_ 1781.--My five fair daughters too! I have so good a pretence to wish for long life to see them settled. Like the old fellow in 'Lucian,' one is never at a loss for an excuse. They are five lovely creatures to be sure, but they love not me. Is it my fault or theirs?"

"_12th October_, 1781.--Yesterday was my wedding-day; it was a melancholy thing to me to pa.s.s it without the husband of my youth.

"'Long tedious years may neither moan, Sad, deserted, and alone; May neither long condemned to stay Wait the second bridal day!!!'[1]

"Let me thank G.o.d for my children, however, my fortune, and my friends, and be contented if I cannot be happy."

[Footnote 1: _Note by Mrs. T._: "Samuel Wesley's verses, making part of an epithalamium."]

"_15th October_, 1781.--My maid Margaret Rice dreamed last night that my eldest daughter was going to be married to Mr. Crutchley, but that Mr. Thrale _himself_ prevented her. An odd thing to me, who think Mr.

Crutchley is his son."

Although the next day but one after Thrale's death Johnson carried Boswell to dine at the Queen's Arms' Club, his grief was deep and durable. Indeed, it is expressed so often and so earnestly as to rebut the presumption that "my mistress" was the sole or chief tie which bound him to Streatham. Amongst his Prayers and Meditations is the following:

"_Good Friday, April 13th_, 1781.--On Wednesday, 11th, was buried my dear friend Thrale, who died on Wednesday, 4th; and with him were buried many of my hopes and pleasures. About five, I think, on Wednesday morning, he expired. I felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for the last time upon the face that for fifteen years had never been turned upon me but with respect or benignity.

Farewell. May G.o.d, that delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee!

I had constantly prayed for him some time before his death. The decease of him, from whose friends.h.i.+p I had obtained many opportunities of amus.e.m.e.nt, and to whom I turned my thoughts as to a refuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my business is with myself."

On the same paper is a note: "My first knowledge of Thrale was in 1765. I enjoyed his favours for almost a fourth part of my life."

On the 20th March, 1782, he wrote thus to Langton:

"Of my life, from the time we parted, the history is mournful. The spring of last year deprived me of Thrale, a man whose eye for fifteen years had scarcely been turned upon me but with respect or tenderness; for such another friend, the general course of human things will not suffer man to hope. I pa.s.sed the summer at Streatham, but there was no Thrale; and having idled away the summer with a weakly body and neglected mind, I made a journey to Staffords.h.i.+re on the edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was sickly, and found the friends sickly whom I went to see."

There is ample evidence that he neither felt nor suspected any diminution of kindness or regard, and continued, till their final departure from Streatham, to treat it as his home.

In November she writes, "Do not forget Streatham and its inhabitants, who are all much yours;" and he replies:

"Birmingham, Dec. 8th, 1781.

"DEAR MADAM,--I am come to this place on my way to London and to Streatham. I hope to be in London on Tuesday or Wednesday, and Streatham on Thursday, by your kind conveyance. I shall have nothing to relate either wonderful or delightful. But remember that you sent me away, and turned me out into the world, and you must take the chance of finding me better or worse. This you may know at present, that my affection for you is not diminished, and my expectation from you is increased. Do not neglect me, nor relinquish me. n.o.body will ever love you better or honour you more."

"Feb. 16th, 1782.

"DEAREST LADY,--I am better, but not yet well; but hope springs eternal. As soon as I can think myself not troublesome, you may be sure of seeing me, _for such a place to visit n.o.body ever had_.

Dearest Madam, do not think me worse than I am; be sure, at least, that whatever happens to me, I am with all the regard that admiration of excellence and grat.i.tude for kindness can excite, Madam, your" &c.

In "Thraliana":

"_23rd February, 1782 (Harley Street)_.--The truth is, Mr. Johnson has some occult disorder that I cannot understand; Jebb and Bromfield fancy it is water between the heart and pericardium--I do not think it is _that_, but I do not know what it is. He apprehends no danger himself, and he knows more of the matter than any of them all."

On February 27th, 1782, he writes to Malone: "I have for many weeks been so much out of order, that I have gone out only in a coach to Mrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom that sickness requires."

On March 20th, 1782, to Mrs. Grastrell and Mrs. Aston: "When Dr.

Falconer saw me, I was at home only by accident, for I lived much with Mrs. Thrale, and had all the care from her that she could take or could be taken."

April 26th, 1782, to Mrs. Thrale:

"MADAM,--I have been very much out of order since you sent me away; but why should I tell you, who do not care, nor desire to know? I dined with Mr. Paradise on Monday, with the Bishop of St. Asaph yesterday, with the Bishop of Chester I dine to-day, and with the Academy on Sat.u.r.day, with Mr. Hoole on Monday, and with Mrs. Garrick on Thursday, the 2nd of May, and then--what care you? _What then_?

"The news run, that we have taken seventeen French transports; that Langton's lady is lying down with her eighth child, all alive; and Mrs. Carter's Miss Sharpe is going to marry a schoolmaster sixty-two years old.

"Do not let Mr. Piozzi nor any body else put me quite out of your head, and do not think that any body will love you like your" &c.

"April 30th, 1782.

"Mrs. Sheridan refused to sing, at the d.u.c.h.ess of Devons.h.i.+re's request, a song to the Prince of Wales. They pay for the Theatre neither princ.i.p.al nor interest; and poor Garrick's funeral expenses are yet unpaid, though the undertaker is broken. Could you have a better purveyor for a little scandal? But I wish I was at Streatham.

I beg Miss to come early, and I may perhaps reward you with more mischief."

She went to Streatham on the 18th April, 1782, and Johnson evidently with her. In "Thraliana" she writes:

"_Sat.u.r.day, 9th May, 1782._--To-day I bring home to Streatham my poor Dr. Johnson: he went to town a week ago by the way of amusing himself, and got so very ill that I thought I should never get him home alive,"--by _home_ meaning Streatham.

Johnson to Mrs. Thrale:

"June 4th, 1782.

"This day I dined upon skate, pudding, goose, and your asparagus, and could have eaten more, but was prudent. Pray for me, dear Madam; I hope the tide has turned. The change that I feel is more than I durst have hoped, or than I thought possible; but there has not yet pa.s.sed a whole day, and I may rejoice perhaps too soon. Come and see me, and when you think best, upon due consideration, take me away."

From her to him:

"Streatham, June 14th, 1782.