Lady Mary Wortley Montague Part 10

_Bows, at my Beck; and knows its_ G.o.d's _Decrees.

Breath'd, in this_ Kiss, _take Pow'r to tame its Rage: And, from its Rancour_, free _the rescu'd Age.

High, o'er each s.e.x, in_ Double _Empire, fit: Protecting_ Beauty, _and inspiring Wit_.

When Lady Mary had been abroad for a year, she became homesick and began to long for England. It was really very dull for her in Turkey, even though she could pa.s.s the time of day in the language of the country.

Supervising the nurses of her child did not take a large share of her tune; and she found only a mild excitement in going into the bazaar in native woman's attire to collect Oriental rugs and whatnot.

"To say truth, I am sometimes very weary of this singing, and dancing, and sunshine, and wish for the smoke and impertinencies in which you toil, though I endeavour to persuade myself that I live in a more agreeable variety than you do; and that Monday, setting of partridges-- Tuesday, reading English--Wednesday, studying the Turkish language (in which, by the way, I am already very learned)--Thursday, cla.s.sical authors--Friday, spent in writing--Sat.u.r.day, at my needle--and Sunday, admitting of visits, and hearing music, is a better way of disposing the week, than Monday, at the drawing-room--Tuesday, Lady Mohun's-- Wednesday, the opera--Thursday, the play--Friday, Mrs. Chetwynd's, &c., a perpetual round of hearing the same scandal, and seeing the same follies acted over and over, which here affect me no more than they do other dead people. I can now hear of displeasing things with pity, and without indignation. The reflection on the great gulf between you and me, cools all news that come hither. I can neither be sensibly touched with joy nor grief, when I consider that possibly the cause of either is removed before the letter comes to my hands. But (as I said before) this indolence does not extend to my few friendships; I am still warmly sensible of yours and Mr. Congreve's, and desire to live in your remembrances, though dead to all the world beside."

There is no doubt that it was to her pen that Lady Mary had recourse in her endeavours to overcome ennui. A perusal of the letters written during this first sojourn in Europe shows that nothing escaped her eye, trivial or serious, from the washing of the Rotterdam pavements to the dwarfs at the Court of Vienna, from the palaces of the great to the cosmetics used by the women.

Occasionally Lady Mary became impatient at the ignorance of her friends as regards the Near East.

"I heartily beg your ladyship's pardon; but I really could not forbear laughing heartily at your letter, and the commissions you are pleased to honour me with" (she wrote to one of her acquaintances from Belgrade Village in June, 1717).

"You desire me to buy you a Greek slave, who is to be mistress of a thousand good qualities. The Greeks are subjects, and not slaves. Those who are to be bought in that manner, are either such as are taken in war, or stolen by the Tartars from Russia, Circa.s.sia, or Georgia, and are such miserable, awkward, poor wretches, you would not think any of them worthy to be your housemaids. 'Tis true that many thousands were taken in the Morea; but they have been, most of them, redeemed by the charitable contributions of the Christians, or ransomed by their own relations at Venice. The fine slaves that wait upon the great ladies, or serve the pleasures of the great men, are all bought at the age of eight or nine years old, and educated with great care, to accomplish them in singing, dancing, embroidery, &c. They are commonly Circa.s.sians, and their patron never sells them, except it is as a punishment for some very great fault. If ever they grow weary of them, they either present them to a friend, or give them their freedom. Those that are exposed to sale at the markets are always either guilty of some crime, or so entirely worthless that they are of no use at all. I am afraid you will doubt the truth of this account, which I own is very different from our common notions in England; but it is no less truth for all that.

"Your whole letter is full of mistakes from one end to the other. I see you have taken your ideas of Turkey from that worthy author Dumont, who has written with equal ignorance and confidence. 'Tis a particular pleasure to me here, to read the voyages to the Levant, which are generally so far removed from the truth, and so full of absurdities, I am very well diverted with them. They never fail giving you an account of the women, whom 'tis certain they never saw, and talking very wisely of the genius of the men, into whose company they are never admitted; and very often describe mosques, which they dare not peep into. The Turks are very proud, and will not converse with a stranger they are not a.s.sured is considerable in his own country. I speak of the men of distinction; for, as to the ordinary fellows, you may imagine what ideas their conversation can give of the general genius of the people.

"I am more inclined, out of a true female spirit of contradiction, to tell you the falsehood of a great part of what you find in authors; as, for example, in the admirable Mr. Hill, who so gravely a.s.serts, that he saw in Sancta Sophia a sweating pillar, very balsamic for disordered heads. There is not the least tradition of any such matter; and I suppose it was revealed to him in a vision during his wonderful stay in the Egyptian catacombs; for I am sure he never heard of any such miracle here.

"'Tis also very pleasant to observe how tenderly he and all his brethren voyage-writers lament the miserable confinement of the Turkish ladies, who are perhaps freer than any ladies in the universe, and are the only women in the world that lead a life of uninterrupted pleasure exempt from cares; their whole time being spent in visiting, bathing, or the agreeable amus.e.m.e.nt of spending money, and inventing new fashions. A husband would be thought mad that exacted any degree of economy from his wife, whose expenses are no way limited but by her own fancy. 'Tis his business to get money, and hers to spend it: and this n.o.ble prerogative extends itself to the very meanest of the s.e.x. Here is a fellow that carries embroidered handkerchiefs upon his back to sell, as miserable a figure as you may suppose such a mean dealer, yet I'll a.s.sure you his wife scorns to wear anything less than cloth of gold; has her ermine furs, and a very handsome set of jewels for her head. They go abroad when and where they please. Tis true they have no public places but the bagnios, and there can only be seen by their own s.e.x; however, that is a diversion they take great pleasure in."

In the meantime, Montagu's conduct of affairs was much criticised at home, and Lord Stanhope's Administration, which had come into power in April, 1717, decided to recall him. This invidious task fell upon his old friend Addison, now Secretary of State for the Southern Department.

The recall was notified to those concerned in a circular letter dated October 13. Addison, in a private letter dated September 28, notified him of the impending change:

"Having been confined to my chamber for some time by a dangerous fit of sickness, I find, upon my coming abroad, some things have pa.s.sed which I think myself obliged to communicate to you, not as the Secretary to the Amba.s.sador, but as an humble servant to his friend.... Our great men are of opinion that your being possessed [of the reversion of certain places] (which they look upon as sure and sudden) it would be agreeable to your inclinations, as well as for the King's service, which you are so able to promote in Parliament, rather to return to your own country than to live at Constantinople. For this reason, they have thought of relieving Mr. Stanyan, who is now at the Imperial Court, and of joining Sir Robert Sutton with him in the mediation of a peace between the Emperor and the Turks. I need not suggest to you that Mr. Stanyan is in great favour at Vienna, and how necessary it is to humour that Court in the present juncture. Besides, as it would have been for your honour to have acted as sole mediator in such a negotiation, perhaps it would not have been so agreeable to you to act only in commission. This was suggested to me the other day by one of our first ministers, who told me that he believed Sir R. Sutton's being joined in a mediation, which was carried on by my Lord Paget singly, would be shocking to you, but that they could be more free with a person of Mr. Stanyan's quality. I find by his Majesty's way of speaking of you, that you are much in his favour and esteem, and I fancy you would find your ease and advantage more in being nearer his person than at the distance you are from him at present. I omit no opportunity of doing you justice where I think it is for your service, and wish I could know your mind as to these several particulars by a more speedy and certain conveyance, that I might act accordingly to the utmost of my powers. Madame Kielmansegg and my Lady Hervey desire me to forward the enclosed to my Lady Mary Wortley, to whom I beg you will deliver them with my most humble regards."

What Montagu's feelings were can only be imagined. It is almost certain that he felt himself vastly aggrieved. Nothing could have been more delicate or complimentary than Addison's letter, but it did not, and could not, disguise the main fact. It was easy for the Secretary of State to suggest that at least one reason for the recall was that Montagu must be anxious to return, but that certainly could not have deceived the Amba.s.sador who was, indeed, so little anxious to get home that he remained at Constantinople until the following June. Likewise, the statement that he would be able to promote the King's service in Parliament, flattering as it read, meant, of course, nothing at all.

Certainly, though Montagu sat in the House of Commons until his death, office was never offered him in any Administration.

Lady Mary found herself again with child. Whether this pleased her or not no one can say, but in a letter to Mrs. Thistlethwayte she treated the incident divertingly enough.

"I wish I could return your goodness with some diverting accounts from hence. But I know not what part of the scenes here would gratify your curiosity, or whether you have any curiosity at all for things so far distant. To say the truth, I am, at this present writing, not very much turned for the recollection of what is diverting, my head being wholly filled with the preparations necessary for the increase of my family, which I expect every day. You may easily guess at my uneasy situation.

But I am, however, in some degree comforted, by the glory that accrues to me from it, and a reflection on the contempt I should otherwise fall under. You won't know what to make of this speech: but, in this country, it is more despicable to be married and not fruitful, than it is with us to be fruitful before marriage. They have a notion, that, whenever a woman leaves off bringing children, it is because she is too old for that business, whatever her face says to the contrary, and this opinion makes the ladies here so ready to make proofs of their youth (which is as necessary, in order to be a received beauty, as it is to shew the proofs of n.o.bility, to be admitted knight of Malta), that they do not content themselves with using the natural means, but fly to all sorts of quackeries, to avoid the scandal of being past child-bearing, and often kill themselves by them. Without any exaggeration, all the women of my acquaintance that have been married ten years, have twelve or thirteen children; and the old ones boast of having had five-and-twenty or thirty a-piece, and are respected according to the number they have produced.

When they are with child, it is their common expression to say, They hope G.o.d will be so merciful to them to send two this time; and when I have asked them sometimes, How they expected to provide for such a flock as they desire? they answered, That the plague will certainly kill half of them; which, indeed, generally happens, without much concern to the parents, who are satisfied with the vanity of having brought forth so plentifully.

"The French Amba.s.sadress is forced to comply with this fashion as well as myself. She has not been here much above a year, and has lain in once, and is big again. What is most wonderful is, the exemption they seem to enjoy from the curse entailed on the s.e.x. They see all company the day of their delivery, and, at the fortnight's end, return visits, set out in their jewels and new clothes. I wish I may find the influence of the climate in this particular. But I fear I shall continue an Englishwoman in that affair."

Lady Mary gave birth to a daughter, Mary, in February. "I don't mention this as one of my diverting adventures," she wrote to Lady Mar, "though I must own that it is not half so mortifying here as in England, there being as much difference as there is between a little cold in the head, which sometimes happens here, and the consumptive cough, so common in London. n.o.body keeps their house a month for lying in; and I am not so fond of any of our customs to retain them when they are not necessary. I returned my visits at three weeks' end."

So soon as possible after this domestic event, preparations for the return journey were made. The party went by sea to Tunis, thence to Genoa, Turin, Lyons, and Paris. Their arrival at Paris in October was notified by Lady Mar to her husband: "You'll be surprised to hear 657 [i.e., Lady Mary] is here. She arrived the day after me. You may believe how much incognito I am. 'Twas in vain to attempt being so. Twould fill a whole letter to tell you the people that have been to see me. I was very much pleased at seeing 657 and she appeared to be the same." The sisters had not met for three years.

CHAPTER X

A SCANDAL

Montagu re-enters the House of Commons--His miserliness--Pope refers to it--Comments on Society--Lady Mary and a first-cla.s.s scandal--Remond-- His admiration for her--Her imprudent letters to him--The South Sea Bubble--Lady Mary speculates for Remond--She loses money for him--He demands to be re-imbursed--He threatens to publish her letters--She states the case in letters to Lady Mar--Lady Mary meets Pope--His letters to her when she was abroad--He affects to be in love with her--Her matter-of-fact replies--Her parody of his verses, "On John Hughes and Sarah Drew."

Montagu, on his return to England, again entered the House of Commons, where he represented Huntingdon from 1722 to 1734, and then for Peterborough from 1734 to 1747 and from 1754 to 1761. Whether it was lack of ambition or just want of appreciation of his talents by the leaders of his party, there is no evidence. Even with his family connections and his wealth, he was never offered a place in any Administration, nor, it must be confessed, did he in any way distinguish himself in Parliament. As the years pa.s.sed, his chief pleasure, if indeed it was not his only one, was in the h.o.a.rding of money--in this pursuit he was splendidly successful. From references to Lady Mary in contemporary correspondence, it would appear that she too had no small streak of the miser in her. Pope, after his quarrel with her, referred to Montagu as "Worldly," "Shylock," and "Gripus," and in the fourth Epistle of the _Essay on Man_ wrote:

"Is yellow dirt the pa.s.sion of thy life?

Look but on Gripus and Gripus' wife."

Also he lampooned them under the style of Avidieu and Avidieu's wife, who

"Sell their presented partridges or fruits, And humbly live on rabbits and on roots; One half-pint bottle serves them both to dine, And is at once their vinegar and wine.

But on some lucky day (as when they found A lost bank note, or heard their son was drowned), At such a feast old vinegar to spare Is what two souls so generous cannot bear: Oil, though it stink, they drop by drop impart, But souse the cabbage with a bounteous heart."

Lady Mary took her place, as of right, as a leader of society, and for a while plunged into the gaieties of the town. "Public places flourish more than ever," she wrote to her sister. "We have a.s.semblies for every day in the week, besides Court, operas, and masquerades. With youth and money, 'tis certainly possible to be well diverted in spite of malice and ill-nature, though they are more and more powerful every day. For my part, as it is my established opinion that this globe of ours is no better than a Holland cheese, and the walkers about in it mites, I possess my soul in patience, let what will happen--and I should feel tolerably easy, though a great rat came and ate half of it." That is a philosophical outlook with a vengeance!

However, Lady Mary managed on the whole to enjoy herself. "The town improves in gaiety every day; the young people are younger than they used to be, and all the old are grown young. Nothing is talked of but entertainments of gallantry by land and water, and we insensibly begin to taste all the joys of arbitrary power. Politics are no more; n.o.body pretends to wince or kick under their burdens; but we go on cheerfully with our bells at our ears, ornamented with ribands, and highly contented with our present condition; so much for the general state of the nation," she made her comment on polite circles. "We are much mistaken here as to our ideas of Paris--to hear gallantry has deserted it, sounds as extraordinary to me as a want of ice in Greenland.

We have nothing but ugly faces in this country, but more lovers than ever. There are but three pretty men in England, and they are all in love with me, at this present writing. This will amaze you extremely; but if you were to see the reigning girls at present, I will a.s.sure you, there is very little difference between them and old women."

Lady Mary could never resist a good story, and, indeed, never made any attempt to do so, and she usually wrote them down to amuse Lady Mar.

"'Tis but reasonable I should conclude with a farce, that I may not leave you in ill humour. I have so good an opinion of your taste, to believe Harlequin in person will never make you laugh so much as the Earl of Stair's furious pa.s.sion for Lady Walpole (aged fourteen and some months). Mrs. Murray undertook to bring the business to bear, and provided the opportunity (a great ingredient you'll say); but the young lady proved skittish. She did not only turn this heroic flame into present ridicule, but exposed all his generous sentiments, to divert her husband and father-in-law. His lordship is gone to Scotland; and if there was anybody wicked enough to write about it, there is a subject worthy the pen of the best ballad-maker in Grub-street."

"Lord Townshend has renewed his lease of life by his French journey, and is at present situated in his house in Grosvenor-street in perfect health. My good lady is coming from the Bath to meet him with the joy you may imagine. Kitty Edwin has been the companion of his [her?]

pleasures there. The alliance seems firmer than ever between them, after their Tunbridge battles, which served for the entertainment of the public. The secret cause is variously guessed at; but it is certain Lady Townshend came into the great room gently behind her friend, and tapping her on the shoulder with her fan, said aloud, _I know where, how, and who_. These mysterious words drew the attention of all the company, and had such an effect upon poor Kitty, she was carried to her lodgings in strong hysterics. However, by the intercession of prudent mediators peace was concluded; and if the conduct of these heroines was considered in a true light, perhaps it might serve for an example even to higher powers, by showing that the surest method to obtain a lasting and honourable peace, is to begin with vigorous war. But leaving these reflections, which are above my capacity, permit me to repeat my desire of hearing often from you. Your letters would be my greatest pleasure if I had flourished in the first years of Henry the Eighth's court; judge then how welcome they are to me in the present desolate state of this deserted town of London."

Lady Mary's own morals were more than once a.s.sailed; but this did not prevent her humorous attack on society at large: "Those things [Bills of Divorce] grow more fashionable every day, and in a little time won't be at all scandalous. The best expedient for the public, and to prevent the expense of private families, would be a general act of divorcing all the people of England. You know those that pleased might marry again; and it would save the reputation of several ladies that are now in peril of being exposed every day."

Not long after Lady Mary had returned to England, about the winter of 1720, she, who loved to retail malicious stories about others, found herself, to her great dismay, the subject of a first-cla.s.s scandal.

When Lady Mary was in Paris, Remond was introduced to her by the Abbe Conti. He had seen a letter or two addressed by her to the Abbe, and expressed himself with enthusiasm of her brilliance as a correspondent.

Presently he came to England, and sought out Lady Mary, who was no more immune from flattery than most folk of either s.e.x. How far the intimacy developed from the platonic to the amorous it is impossible to say. That Remond made love to her there can be little doubt. Sir Leslie Stephen holds the view that she did not encourage his pa.s.sion. Anyhow, it is beyond question that she wrote him imprudent letters, which he was prudent enough to keep.

Lady Mary basked in the admiration of Remond, and thought to reward him for his intelligence, at no cost to herself, by putting him on to "a good thing." Also, getting a little fearsome of his very marked attentions, or perhaps it was only wearying of them, she thought, as she confessed to her sister, the Countess of Mar, it would be the more easy to rid herself of this somewhat turbulent lover.

At this time the famous "boom" known as the South Sea Bubble was at the height of its brief career. The South Sea Company had taken over the National Debt, on terms, and its stock, carefully manipulated, rose by leaps and bounds. In 1714 the stock stood at 85. After the defeat of the rebellion of 1715, it was quoted at prices varying from par to 106. In the autumn of 1719, when rumours of its great scheme were spread about the town, it rose to 126. Early in the following year it could not be purchased for less than 400. It fluctuated wildly, going up and down hundreds of points. On June 2, 1720, it went up in the morning to 890, in the afternoon fell to 640; and many who were speculating in differences were utterly ruined. Later in the day it recovered, though only to 770. Ultimately it rose to 1,000. Of course the prices were fict.i.tious, but everyone in society tried their luck, and while some came out of it with a fortune, the majority lost practically every penny they had. The directors, most of whom were guilty of fraud, made vast sums of money. That astute financier, Robert Walpole, speculated on a vast scale, sold out before the slump, and realised a fortune more than sufficient to enable him to rebuild Houghton and to gather together his famous collection of pictures. On the other hand the Duke of Portland, who held on too long, was so hard hit that he had to solicit the post of Captain-General of Jamaica.

Remond held some South Sea stock, and, acting on Lady Mary's advice, sold out at a considerable profit. Not content with his gains, however, he insisted, just before his departure for France, on leaving in Lady Mary's hands 900 for investment as opportunity should arise.