The Life and Romances of Mrs. Eliza Haywood Part 13

Haywood indeed drew upon her old stock of love scenes tender or importunate, duels, marital disputes, and elopements to lend interest to her story, but except for the mock-marriage with a scoundrelly valet from which the imprudent Betsy is rescued in the nick of time by her former lover, no pa.s.sage in the four volumes recommends itself particularly either to sense or to sensibility. There are few high lights in "Betsy Thoughtless"; the story keeps the even and loquacious tenor of its way after a fas.h.i.+on called insipid by the "Monthly Review,"

though the critic finally acknowledges the difficulty of the task, if not the success of the writer. "In justice to [our author], however, this may be further observed, that no other hand would, probably, have more happily finished a work begun on such a plan, as that of the history of a young inconsiderate girl, whose little foibles, without any natural vices of the mind, involve her in difficulties and distresses, which, by correcting, make her wiser, and deservedly happy in the end. A heroine like this, cannot but lay her historian under much disadvantage; for tho' such an example may afford lessons of prudence, yet how can we greatly interest ourselves in the fortune of one, whose character and conduct are neither amiable nor infamous, and which we can neither admire, nor love, nor pity, nor be diverted with? Great spirit in the writer, and uncommon beauties in the expression, are certainly necessary to supply the deficiency of such a barren foundation."[11] Neither of the latter qualities was at the command of the "female pen" that composed "Betsy Thoughtless," but in spite of the handicap imposed by the plan of her work and the deficiencies of her genius, she produced a novel at once realistic and readable. Without resorting to the dramatic but inherently improbable plots by which Richardson made his writings at once "the joy of the chambermaids of all nations"[12] and something of a laughing stock to persons capable of detecting their absurdities, Mrs.

Haywood preserved his method of minute fidelity to actual life and still made her book entertaining to such a connoisseur of fiction as Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.[13]Though rarely mentioned with entire approbation, "Betsy Thoughtless" was widely read for fifty years after its publication,[14] and undoubtedly deserves its place among the best of the minor novels collected in Harrison's "Novelist's Library."

In the same useful repertory of eighteenth century fiction is the second of Mrs. Haywood's domestic novels, only less famous than its predecessor. Like her earlier effort, too, "The History of Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy" (1753) contains a great number of letters quoted at full length, though the narrative is usually r.e.t.a.r.ded rather than developed by these effusions. Yet all the letters, together with numerous digressions and inserted narratives, serve only to fill out three volumes in twelves. To readers whose taste for fiction has been cloyed by novels full of incident, movement, and compression, nothing could be more maddening than the leisurely footpace at which the story drags its slow length along. No wonder, then, that Scott recorded his abhorrence of the "whole Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy tribe," while to Coleridge and Thackeray "Jemmy Jessamy stuff" was a favorite synonym for the emotional inane.[15] But Mrs. Haywood made no pretense of interesting such readers. In the running fire of comment on the narrative contained in the lengthy chapter headings she confesses that her book "treats only on such matters as, it is highly probable, some readers will be apt to say might have been recited in a more laconick manner, if not totally omitted; but as there are others, the author imagines much the greater number, who may be of a different opinion, it is judged proper that the majority should be obliged." She has no hesitation either in recommending parts of the story that "cannot fail of giving an agreeable sensation to every honest and good-natured reader," or in sparing him a "digression of no consequence to the history" which may be "read or omitted at discretion." But those who love to "read in an easy-chair, either soon after dinner, or at night just going to rest," will find in the tale "such things as the author is pretty well convinced, from a long series of observations on the human mind, will afford more pleasure than offence."

We have every reason to believe that what the novelist terms her "distressful narrative" succeeded in its appeal to the Martha Buskbodys of the generation, for even Goethe's Charlotte took a heartfelt interest in the fortunes of Miss Jenny.[18] It was indeed so far calculated to stir the sensibilities that a most touching turn in the lovers' affairs is labeled "not fit to be read by those who have tender hearts or watry eyes." But though popular with sentimental readers, the new production was not wholly approved by the critic of the "Monthly Review."[17] He finds the character and conduct of Miss Jessamy more interesting to the reader than those of Miss Thoughtless, but he does not fail to point out that the fable is equally deficient in plot and in natural incidents.

The history, in fact, though it does not want a hero, having like "The Fortunate Foundlings" double the usual number of protagonists, has a more uncommon want, that of a story.

When the novel begins, Jemmy, son of a landed gentleman, and his cousin Jenny, daughter of a wealthy merchant, have long been affianced by their respective parents, but each is left an orphan before their union can be accomplished. Thereupon Jemmy leaves Oxford and comes up to London, where he and Jenny indulge innocently, but with keen relish, in the pleasures of the town.

But the numerous instances of marital levity and unhappiness that come to their notice, make them decide to defer their marriage until they have gained more knowledge of the world and of their own sentiments. In pursuance of this delicate experiment each communicates to the other his observations on the jealousy, discontent, and misery attending marriage.

Jenny notes how Mrs. Marlove's partiality for her froward maid promotes discord in the family, and Jemmy is shocked to find the fair Liberia so fond of cards that "though at present a profest enemy to religion, she would be the greatest devotee imaginable, were she once persuaded there were gaming-tables in heaven."

While the two lovers are thus engaged in a pleasant but indecisive daily round of amus.e.m.e.nt, Bellpine, a false friend, tries to turn Jemmy's affection to the fair musician, Miss Chit, in order to win Jenny for himself, but failing in that, circulates rumors of Jemmy's attachment to Miss Chit in hopes of alienating the lovers' regard. Emboldened by these reports of Jemmy's change of heart, Sir Robert Manley pays his court to Jenny on her way to Bath with her friends Miss Wingman and Lady Speck, but she gently repulses him and will believe nothing to Jemmy's disadvantage. She is saved from the rudeness of Celandine by the intrusion of the gallant's jealous mistress, who faints when foiled in her attempt to stab Jenny, but later relates the story of her ruin. This narrative is enough to disgust Lady Speck with her foppish admirer and to make her sensible of the merits of Mr. Lovegrove. In spite of Bellpine's industrious slander and in spite of seemingly incontrovertible proof of Jemmy's inconstancy, Jenny's faith in her lover remains unshaken. After tedious delays he finally rejoins her in London, but learning the full extent of Bellpine's treachery, he wounds him seriously in a duel and is obliged to seek safety in France. After causing the lovers untold anxiety, the injured man recovers, and Jenny forestalls her lover's return by joining her friends on their wedding journey to Paris. There she finds her adored Jessamy now fully sensible of the merits of his treasure. He does not fail to press for a speedy termination to their delays, and Jenny is not unwilling to crown his love by a "happy catastrophe."

Besides being unwarrantably expanded by a wealth of tedious detail, the novel has little merit as a piece of realism. The society of Lord Humphreys and Lady Specks was not that in which Eliza Haywood commonly moved, but she had lived upon the skirts of gay life long enough to imitate its appearances. Although she exhibits the diamond ta.s.sels sparkling in St. James's sun or the musk and amber that perfume the Mall, she never penetrates beyond externalities. The sentiments of her characters are as inflated as those of a Grandison and her picture of refined society as ridiculously stilted as Richardson's own. The scene whether in London, Bath, Oxford, or Paris, is described with more attention to specific detail than appeared in her early romances, but compared with the setting of "Humphrey Clinker" her glittering world appears pale and unreal. Mrs. Haywood had so framed her style to suit the short, rapid tale of pa.s.sion that she never moved easily in the unwieldy novel form. Consequently her best narrative is to be found in the digressions, a chapter or two long, which are equivalent to little histories upon the old model. In them the progress of the action is unimpeded, compressed, and at times even sprightly.

Recognizing, perhaps, her inability to cope with a plot of any extent, Mrs. Haywood adopted in her next novel a plan that permitted her to include a pot-pourri of short narratives, conversations, letters, reflections, and miscellaneous material without damaging the comprehensive scheme of her story. Except that it lacks the consistent purpose of traducing the fair fame of her contemporaries,[18] "The Invisible Spy" (1755), written under the pseudonym of "Exploralibus," is not essentially different in structure from the "Memoirs of a Certain Island." Love is still the theme of most of the anecdotes, no longer the gross pa.s.sion that proves every woman at heart a rake, but rather a romantic tenderness that inclines lovely woman to stoop to folly. From the world of Lady Mellasin, Harriot Loveit, Mr. Trueworth, Lord Huntley, Miss Wingman, and other Georgian fas.h.i.+onables that filled the pages of "Betsy Thoughtless" and "Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy" we are transported again to the pale company of Celadon, Alinda, Placentia, Adario, Melanthe. A framework a.n.a.logous to that in Le Sage's "Le Diable Boiteux"

takes the place of a plot. With a belt of invisibility and a recording tablet, Exploralibus is able to collect whatever is affecting, ludicrous, vicious, or otherwise noteworthy in the conversation, actions, and manners of society. But the shadowy nature of the observer fails to give to the necessarily disconnected incidents even the slight unity possible in the adventures of a lap-dog, a cat, a mouse, a flea, or a guinea. The contents of a single section of "The Invisible Spy" is enough to show how little thought the author expended upon the sequence of the narrative.

Book VI. Disguised as her husband, a villain carries off the young Matilda from a masquerade and ruins her. Alexis sends her away to the country and endeavors to forget her in the pleasures of the town. The contents of a lady's pocket:--a catalogue of imaginary books attributed to the initials of well known persons of quality; two letters, the first from Philetes to excuse his attendance, and the other from Damon making an appointment on the spot where the pocket was found. The foppish Miss Loiter is contrasted with the well trained children of Amadea. Narcissa, endeavoring to avoid marriage with the detested Oakly, is entrapped by the brother of her waiting-maid, who though only a common soldier, poses as Captain Pike.

Though the novel exhibits some pictures of life which at the time were considered natural,[19] and some bits of satire rather extravagant than striking, its appearance was a tacit admission of the failing of the author's powers. Much experience of human nature Mrs. Haywood had undoubtedly salvaged from her sixty years of buffeting about in the world, but so rapid and complete had been the development of prose fiction during her literary life that she was unable quite to comprehend the magnitude of the change. Her early training in romance writing had left too indelible a stamp upon her mind. She was never able to apprehend the full possibilities of the newer fiction, and her success as a novelist was only an evidence of her ability to create the image of a literary form without mastering its technique. So at the maturity of her powers she lacked a vessel worthy of holding the stores of her experience, and first and last she never exceeded the permutations of sensationalism possible in the short amatory romance.

Long after Mrs. Haywood's death in 1756 came out the last novel presumably of her composing. "The History of Leonora Meadowson,"

published in two volumes in 1788, is but a recombination of materials already familiar to the reading public. Leonora rashly yields to the wishes of her first lover, weds another, and makes yet a second experiment in matrimony before she finds her true mate in the faithful Fleetwood, whom she had thought inconstant. Thus she is a near relation of the thoughtless Betsy, and possibly a descendant of the much married heroine of "Cleomelia." Another of Mrs. Haywood's earlier fictions, "The Agreeable Caledonian," had previously been used as the basis of a revision ent.i.tled "Clementina" (1768). The reviewer of "Leonora" in the "Critical," though aware of the novel's shortcomings, still laments the pa.s.sing of "the author of Betsy Thoughtless, our first guide in these delusive walks of fiction and fancy."[20]

"The spirit which dictated Betsy Thoughtless is evaporated; the fire of the author scarcely sparkles. Even two meagre volumes could not be filled, without a little History of Melinda Fairfax;--without the Tale of Cornaro and the Turk,--a tale told twice, in verse and prose,--a tale already often published, and as often read. Alas, poor author! we catch with regret thy parting breath."

FOOTNOTES [1]

A rival translation called _The Fortunate Countrymaid_ had already been published in 1740-1, and may be read in the seventh tome of _The Novelist's Magazine_ (Harrison). Clara Reeve speaks of both translations as "well known to the readers of Circulating Libraries." _Progress of Romance_ (1785), I, 130.

[2]

Austin Dobson, _Eighteenth Century Vignettes_, First Series, 44.

"Captain Coram's Charity."

[3]

In one other respect Natura belongs to the new rather than to the old school: he takes genuine delight in the wilder beauties of the landscape. "Whether you climb the craggy mountains or traverse the flowery vale; whether thick woods set limits to the sight, or the wide common yields unbounded prospect; whether the ocean rolls in solemn state before you, or gentle streams run purling by your side, nature in all her different shapes delights.... The stupendous mountains of the Alps, after the plains and soft embowered recesses of Avignon, gave perhaps a no less grateful sensation to the mind of Natura." Such extraordinary appreciation in an age that regarded mountains as frightful excrescences upon the face of nature, makes the connoisseur of the pa.s.sions a pioneer of the coming age rather than a survival of the last.

[4]

J. Ireland and J. Nichols, _Hogarth's Works_, Second Series, 31, note.

"Mrs. Haywood's _Betsy Thoughtless_ was in MS ent.i.tled _Betsy Careless_; but, from the infamy at that time annexed to the name, had a new baptism." The "inimitable Betsy Careless" is sufficiently immortalized in Fielding's _Amelia_, in Mrs. Charke's _Life_, and in Hogarth's _Marriage a la Mode_, Plate III.

[5]

Austin Dobson, _Eighteenth Century Vignettes_, Third Series, 99.

[6]

"There were no plays, no operas, no masquerades, no b.a.l.l.s, no publick shews, except at the Little Theatre in the Hay Market, then known by the name of F----g's scandal shop, because he frequently exhibited there certain drolls, or, more properly, invectives against the ministry; in doing which it appears extremely probable that he had two views; the one to get money, which he very much wanted, from such as delighted in low humour, and could not distinguish true satire from scurrility; and the other, in the hope of having some post given him by those he had abused, in order to silence his dramatick talent. But it is not my business to point either the merit of that gentleman's performances, or the motives he had for writing them, as the town is perfectly acquainted both with his abilities and success, and has since seen him, with astonishment, wriggle himself into favour, by pretending to cajole those he had not the power to intimidate." _The Novelist's Magazine_, XIII, 23. Quoted by Austin Dobson, _Op. cit._, 100.

[7]

Dedication of _The Fatal Secret_.

[8]

_The Novelist's Magazine_, XIII, 106. Quoted by W. Forsyth, _Novels and Novelists of the Eighteenth Century_ (1871), 211.

[9]

W. Raleigh, _The English Novel_ (Fifth edition, 1910), 139.

[10]

J.C. Dunlop, _History of Prose Fiction_, edited by H. Wilson, II, 568.

[11]

_Monthly Review_, V, 393, October, 1751.

[12]

_Letters from the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu_, Everyman edition, 392.

[13]

_Letters from the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu_, Everyman edition, 457.

[14]

_Notes and Queries_, Series VIII, IX, 366. In Smollett's _Ferdinand Count Fathom_, Chap. x.x.xIX, Captain Miniken recommends as "modern authors that are worth reading" the _Adventures of Loveill, Lady Frail, Bampfylde Moore Carew, Young Scarron_, and _Miss Betsy Thoughtless_. See also A.L. Barbauld, _Correspondence of Samuel Richardson_ (1804), IV, 55-6, and the _Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs.

Delaney_ (1861), First series, III, 79, 214.

[15]

J.G. Lockhart, _Life of Scott_, Everyman edition, 34. Coleridge's _Letters_, I, 368.

[16]

W. Scott, _Old Mortality_, Conclusion. Goethe's _Werke_ (E. Schmidt, Leipsig, 1910), III, 17.

[17]

That the _Monthly's_ review of _Betsy Thoughtless_, complaining of that novel's lack of "those entertaining introductory chapters, and digressive essays, which distinguish the works of a _Fielding_, a _Smollett_, or the author of _Pompey_ the little," rankled in the fair novelist's memory is ill.u.s.trated by a retort in her next work, _Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy_, III, Chap. XVIII, which "contains none of those beautiful digressions, those remarks or reflections, which a certain would-be critick pretends are so much distinguished in the writings of his two favorite authors; yet it is to be hoped, will afford sufficient to please all those who are willing to be pleased." For the review of _Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy_, see _Monthly Review_, VIII, 77.

[18]

A possible return to scandal-mongering should be noted. _Letters from the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu_, Everyman edition, 461. "You should have given me a key to the Invisible Spy, particularly to the catalogue of books in it. I know not whether the conjugal happiness of the D. of B.

[Duke of Bedford] is intended as a compliment or an irony."

[19]

_Gentleman's Magazine_, XXIV, 560, December 1754.

[20]

_Critical Review_, LXV; 236, March 1788.

CHAPTER VIII