The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister

by Helena Whitbread

  After five years hard, albeit enjoyable and intellectually stimulating, work I felt that I knew Anne Lister well enough to venture into print. I wanted to share with the reader the fascination I had experienced on reading Anne’s own words: the small, local world of Halifax and, eventually, a wider world beyond that, spring vividly to life in the pages of her journals. What we read is an authentic depiction of the fictionalised scenarios provided by writers of her day: Mrs Gaskell’s small town of Cranford; Jane Austen’s genteel society novels; and, given the wildness of the Yorkshire countryside around Halifax and Anne Lister’s passionate love affairs, Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.

  Anne Lister’s writings, in their mixture of sophistication and gaucherie, demonstrate a tension in her life that she attempted to resolve by committing her thoughts to her journal. The use of her code involved a great deal of labour, but its worth to Anne as a means of expressing that ‘disguised & hidden nature that suits not with the world’ was invaluable: ‘I tell myself to myself & throw the burden on the book & feel relieved.’ [31 May 1824.]

  Her conservatism generated a fierce pride in family, a stubborn adherence to church, king and country, and an inability to empathise with the sufferings of the poor or admit the justice of the democratic spirit which was abroad in the years of the French Revolution. Nevertheless, in education, travel and not least in her determination to live her later life openly as a lesbian with a woman of her choice, Anne can be seen as a trail-blazer for the emancipation of women from the mores of her day. She became the first woman to be elected to the committee of the Halifax branch of the Literary and Philosophical Society because of her academic contributions to that society. She managed her estate, dealt with the business of farming, and developed coal-mines on her land. Much of her working life was spent out of doors, supervising workmen and, at times, tackling some of the physical tasks herself.

  The romantic element in her nature drove her to explore the wilder parts of the world, to see things for herself and commit her travels to the pages of her journal for future reference and her own enjoyment. Whatever social approval or disapproval Anne earned in her lifetime and, indeed, since her death, her journals will surely guarantee her a place in history as a woman of outstanding courage, fearless enough to approach life on her own terms and fashion it to her liking, according to the nature which, as she saw it, God had endowed her.

  Anne was born on 3 April 1791 in my home town of Halifax, West Yorkshire, during that turbulent period of history when revolutionary and radical ideals and actions were changing the nature of political and economic structures in Western society. Her father, Captain Jeremy Lister, had served in the American War of Independence and was wounded at the battle of Lexington. In 1788 he married Rebecca Battle, a young heiress from Welton, a small village near North Cave in the East Riding of Yorkshire. They had four sons, three of whom died at early ages, and two daughters, Anne and Marian. In 1813, the fourth son, Jeremy, died from drowning at Fermoy in Eire, whilst serving in the army there. It was as a result of his death that Anne was to inherit Shibden Hall and its estate. Anne had spent many happy childhood days there and in 1815, at the age of twenty-four and as the putative heir to Shibden, she went to live there permanently with her Uncle James and Aunt Anne, unmarried brother and sister. She was relieved to escape her parental home at Market Weighton, where she had been unhappy for a long time.

  During the early adult years of her life at Shibden, Anne was dependent financially on her uncle and aunt with only occasional help from her father who was usually insolvent himself. The work involved in helping to run the estate was not particularly onerous for her and the liberal attitude of both her uncle and aunt towards their talented and unconventional niece allowed her a great deal of freedom to follow her own inclinations. She was able to spend a great deal of time on self-education, travel and her hobbies of walking, riding, playing the flute and shooting. To those who did not know her well, and even to some who did, she appeared eccentric. That her nickname, amongst the rougher elements of Halifax, was ‘Gentleman Jack’ is indicative of the fact that her masculine appearance and behaviour was sufficient to cause comment.

  Anne’s status in the town, as a member of the only landowning family in the district, gave her a distinct social advantage over enterprising local families who had grown wealthy from profits made through opportunities provided by new advances in the manufacturing industries. Although they were by many degrees wealthier than the Listers, these entrepreneurs could not lay claim to the ancient lineage enjoyed by the owners of Shibden Hall, which reached back to the early fourteenth century. Anne was snobbishly aware of the high status she and her family enjoyed in the town and considered it a great condescension on her part if she socialised with the less elite, but eminently respectable, middle-class families in the town. The trenchant remarks she confided to her journal indicate the dissatisfaction she felt in having to seek company among those who were not, as she saw it, her social equal.

  Anne compensated for the limitations of Halifax social life by embarking upon improving her education under the tuition of the Rev. Mr Knight, the Vicar of Halifax, studying Greek, Latin, French, mathematics, geometry and history, as well as setting herself a demanding list of English literary texts. Her masters of style were Gibbon and Rousseau, the latter of whom she particularly admired, and her journal, in its qualities of honesty and explicitness, was an emulation of his Confessions. Indeed, in her journal entry for Wednesday 20 August, 1823, she quotes from Rousseau: ‘Je sens mon coeur et je connais les hommes. Je ne suis fait comme aucun de ceux j’ais vus; je croix n’etre fait comme aucun de ceux qui existent’. [I know my own heart and understand my fellow man. But I am made unlike anyone I have ever met. I dare to say I am like no one in the whole world.]

  For this volume of excerpts from Anne Lister’s journals I have concentrated on the years 1816–24, the most emotionally dramatic period of her life, during which the development of two of her most significant relationships with women, Mariana Lawton and Isabella Norcliffe, is chronicled in detail. What is also brilliantly depicted is the social milieu in which she moved, particularly in the town of Halifax and the city of York. The people in Anne’s circle are brought to life by her accounts of their day-to-day lives, their intrigues and the petty gossip-mongering that was endemic amongst such closely knit communities.

  In 1816, the date at which this book commences, Anne was twenty-five and had come to terms psychologically and emotionally with her own sexuality, her ‘oddity’ as she called it. Her journal entry for Monday 29 January, 1821 expresses her feelings about her sexual orientation: ‘Burnt Mr Montagu’s farewell verses that no trace of any man’s admiration may remain. It is not meet for me. I love and only love the fairer sex and thus, beloved by them in turn, my heart revolts from any other love than theirs.’

  This is an explicit statement of lesbian love and one to which she remained true to the day she died. It was also the case that she was ‘beloved by them in turn’. Throughout her life she had no difficulty in attaching to herself the passionate and jealous affection of a number of women whose love she returned in varying degrees of intensity.

  There was, for Anne, an element of suffering during these years which stemmed from her relationship with M— (Mariana Lawton née Belcombe), daughter of a York medical practitioner. The two women had first met in 1812, when Anne was twenty-one and M— twenty-two. Anne had quickly fallen passionately in love with M—, who returned her love, and for four years they had enjoyed an idyllically happy sexual affair, finding as much time and as many opportunities as they could to be together. In that era two women friends sharing a bed was not uncommon, no eyebrows were raised, no sly insinuations expressed. The prevailing culture of ‘romantic friendship’ provided the perfect cover for love of a much deeper kind between women.

  This idyll of lesbian love was shattered, however, when M—, in order to satisfy the conventions of the day and to enjoy the material comforts his weal
th could provide, accepted a proposal of marriage from Charles Lawton (C— of the journal), a wealthy widower of Lawton Hall, Cheshire. Although Anne was bitterly hurt by this betrayal, the two women kept up a clandestine relationship for several years, as well as maintaining a lengthy correspondence, much of it in the esoteric code invented by Anne to disguise her intimate life with women.

  The other love of Anne’s life during these years was Isabella Norcliffe, whom Anne met in York c.1809–10. Isabella (Tib of the journals) born in 1785, was six years older than Anne. She was the eldest child of Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Norcliffe Dalton and his wife, Ann. Their country home was Langton Hall in the small, picturesque village of Langton, near Malton, a market town situated between York and the east coast town of Scarborough. They also had a town house in York. Like Anne, Isabella was never to marry and at one time she had entertained hopes of becoming Anne’s life-partner. However, she had been instrumental in introducing M— to Anne and, in so doing, quickly found that the intensity of the new relationship precluded any realisation of her dream of a future life with Anne.

  The point at which Anne’s story begins in this book, 14 August 1816, has not been an arbitrary decision on my part. The early journals, from 11 August 1806 to 22 February 1810, were written before Anne had met Mariana Belcombe. The journals that would presumably have covered the period from 23 February 1810 to 13 August 1816 are missing. Therefore, 14 August 1816 is the first available extract in which Mariana appears. She is now the wife of Charles Lawton and Anne Lister has been left broken-hearted.

  Mariana Belcombe and Charles Lawton were married on 9 March 1816 at the small medieval church of St Michaelle-Belfrywhich nestled in the shadow of its bigger sister church, York Minster. Masochistically, Anne not only attended the ceremony but, together with Mariana’s sister, Anne (Nantz) Belcombe, accompanied Mariana to her new home. They were to be with Mariana for the first six months of the marriage, following the custom of the day, in certain social circles, of helping a new bride to settle in the marital home where all might be strange and unfamiliar to her.

  The newlyweds and their entourage left York after their wedding and their first night was spent at the Bridgewater Arms hotel in Manchester. Later, in recounting the details to a friend in Paris, Anne recalled the anguish she felt at the thought of the sexual union between Charles and Mariana: ‘I arranged the time of getting off to bed the first night. Left Mrs Barlow to judge what I felt for I had liked M— much.’ [10 December 1824.]

  In August 1816, five months after their marriage, the Lawtons, still apparently on their protracted honeymoon and still accompanied by Anne Lister and Anne Belcombe, were in Buxton, a spa town in Derbyshire famous for the restorative powers of its spring waters.

  Helena Whitbread, 2010

  1816

  Wednesday 14 August [Buxton]

  You descend to Buxton down a very steep narrow road with an ill-fenced off precipice (the case in many other parts of the road) on your right. The appearance of the town is very singular – surrounded by rude, bleak, barren lime-stone mountains covered with lime-kilns. The Crescent1 is situated so low & so hid from view, you hardly see the chimnies till you drive round the back & come into the area in front. We went to the Great hotel2 – had a sitting-room downstairs. C— preferred it on account of seeing the people as they walked along the Piazza. Ordered dinner immediately and devoured a brace of Moor-game which were excellent but dear (6s) in consequence of the moors being so strictly preserved… Anne [Nantz Belcombe, Mariana’s sister] and Watson [Mariana’s maid] have a double-bedded room – I a tolerably good single one opposite – 10s per week – up I know not how many flights of stairs. All rather tired & went to bed early. Anne sat by my bedside & lay by me upon the bed till 3 in the morning – I teasing & behaving rather amorously to her. She would gladly have got into bed or done anything of the loving kind I asked her.

  Thursday 15 August [Buxton]

  [After an exhausting day’s sightseeing]… We got back at 7. All delighted with our day’s excursion. C— hardly spoke as we returned & would have been very much hors de queue if we had not coaxed him out of it. He told us how faint & sick & quere [sic] he had felt in Speedwell mine – he thought he should have died while he was in the boat. It certainly was very vaultish & the atmosphere not agreeable. Anne sat by my bedside till 2. I talked about the feeling to which she gave rise. Lamented my fate. Said I should never marry. Could not like men. Ought not to like women. At the same time apologizing for my inclination that way. By diverse arguments made out a pitiful story altogether & roused poor Anne’s sympathy to tears.

  Friday 16 August [Buxton]

  A very rainy day & Buxton looked very dull. Took a few turns every now & then under the Piazza. Tasted the well-water – & it has nothing at all unpleasant to the taste but the mouthful I took made me rather sick. Went to Moore’s circulating library in the Crescent – found nothing but novels & some of them none of the best nor least exceptionable. Saw the ball & card rooms which are in the house which are both very handsome & well adapted to their respective purposes. There was a ball in the evening but we did not think it worth the trouble going – the fuss of dressing at 9 to break up, according to rule, precisely as the clock strikes 11… Anne came in to my room at night & staid perhaps an hour. I contradicted all I said last night. Argued upon the absurdity & impossibility of it & wondered how she could be such a gull as to believe it. She said she had really been very sorry for me & said she thought I hardly behaved well to make such a fool of her. I begged pardon, etc.

  The party left Buxton on 17 August and returned to Lawton Hall. There are no journal pages to cover the next few months but Anne’s index for that period indicates that on 20 August she and Anne Belcombe finally left Charles and Mariana to begin their post-honeymoon life together at Lawton Hall. They spent three days at the Newcastle-under-Lyme home of Mariana’s brother, Dr Steph Belcombe, and his wife Harriet, before returning to their respective homes – Anne Belcombe to her parents’ house in Petergate, York and Anne Lister to her uncle’s home, Shibden Hall, Halifax. It is obvious from the cryptic index entries that Anne Lister had continued to woo Anne B while at Newcastle-under-Lyme, for on 21 August she enters a line in code in her index, which states: ‘All but connected with Anne’. In November, Anne Belcombe had been staying again at Lawton Hall with Mariana and Charles. On her way back to York, she broke her journey at Halifax to spend some time with Anne at Shibden Hall. Her visit lasted three weeks.

  Thursday 7 November [Halifax]

  Anne arrived by the evening coach at the Union Cross & got here about 7. She brought me a kind letter from Mrs H[arriet] S. B[elcombe] & one from M— (Lawton) with a couple of white muslin morning waists [a slip or underdress] made by M—. Anne looking well. It snowed & was stormy all the way as she came from Manchester… On getting up in the morning [I] found the ground covered with snow an inch or two thick – the 1st we have had this year or rather this winter.

  Friday 8 November [Halifax]

  Nantz [Anne Belcombe] and I walked over to Pye Nest, & sat with Mrs Edwards an hour. On our return met my Aunt Anne at Mrs Veitch’s & got home to dinner at 3. In the course of conversation Nantz told me, M— now thinks it would have been better if C— & she had gone to Lawton tête-à-tête after the wedding. Anne & I lay awake last night till 4 in the morning. I let her into my penchant for the ladies. Expatiated on the nature of my feelings towards her & hers towards me. Told her that she ought not deceive herself as to the nature of my sentiments & the strictness of my intentions towards her. I could feel the same in at least two more instances & named her sister, Eliza, as one, saying that I did not dislike her in my heart but rather admired her as a pretty girl. I asked Anne if she liked me the less for my candour, etc., etc. She said no, kissed me & proved by her manner she did not.

  The atmosphere between the two women in snow-bound Shibden was becoming intense. Nantz, or, to give her her full name, Sarah Anne Sherson Belcombe, was not an eighteen-y
ear-old ingénue. She was a thirty-one-year-old unmarried woman, six years older than Anne, and probably had no experience in matters of sex. She was intrigued by Anne’s pleading of her cause – but at the same time could not help but be worried about the finality of going, as Anne Lister put it, ‘to the last extremity’ in lovemaking with another woman. Her hesitations began to wear Anne Lister down and she decided to talk to Nantz in a very straightforward way – a tactic which proved successful.

  Saturday 9 November [Halifax]

  Talking to Anne almost all the morning telling [her] she should either be on or off, that she was acting very unfairly & ought either to make up her mind to let me have a kiss at once or change her manners altogether. I said she excited my feelings in a way that was very unjustifiable unless she meant to gratify them & that, really, that sort of thing made me far from well, as I was then very sick, languid & uncomfortable – not able to relish anything.

  Monday 11 November [Halifax]

  Had a very good kiss last night. Anne gave it me with pleasure, not thinking it necessary to refuse me any longer.

  Anne Belcombe’s conscience, however, was bothering her. She was concerned about the question of whether or not sex between members of the same sex was counted as sinful.

  Wednesday 13 November [Halifax]

  She asked if I thought the thing was wrong – if it was forbidden in the bible & said she felt quere [sic] when she heard Sir Thomas Horton3 mentioned. I dexterously parried all these points – said Sir T. H.’s case was quite a different thing. That was positively forbidden & signally punished in the bible – that the other was certainly not named. Besides, Sir T. H. was proved to be a perfect man by his having a child & it was infamous to be connected with both sexes – but that [there] were beings who were so unfortunate as to be not quite so perfect &, supposing they kept to one side [of] the question, was there no excuse for them. It would be hard to deny them a gratification of this kind. I urged in my own defence the strength of natural feeling & instinct, for so I might call it, as I had always had the same turn from infancy. That it had been known to me, as it were, by inclination. That I had never varied & no effort on my part had been able to counteract it. That the girls liked me & had always liked me. That I had never been refused by anyone & that, without attempting to account for the thing, I hoped it might, under such circumstances be excused.