Tuesday 2 September [Halifax]
My new greatcoat from Radford’s (27, Piccadilly) came this morning. Merely wrapped in paper which was rubbed thro’ in one place. A mercy the coat had not suffered. Bad cloth. The inside under the collar not lined. Not at all well done, tho’ the cut looks fashionable enough. Only 1 real cape & 1 false one. Left the coat with Lowe to be lined with silk. Determined never to trouble Radford or any such advertising cheap person again.
On Friday 12 September, Anne joined M— and her two sisters, Louisa and Elizabeth, in Scarborough. She had not yet recovered from the psychological shock of M—’s horrified reaction to her wild appearance on the Blackstone Edge moors.
Friday 12 September [Scarborough]
Got to Scarbro’ at 7. Eli received me. M— & Lou out walking. Eli & I went out to meet them just the cliff end of the street (Long Room St), the ‘three steps’ business so in my mind, I seemed coolish, I daresay, & formal. Spoke very low & little. Said I was sleepy. Went upstairs at ten. M— came & talked to me.
Saturday 13 September [Scarborough]
Did not come to breakfast till 10. Read M— some of my journal. Dawdled away the morning, talking to 1 or other, till 3 when we dined. Much too early for me, but convement to have little cooking & have the servants dine after us. In the afternoon, read aloud the first 30pp. Glenarvon,15 vol. 2. Miss Goodricke called & sat a little while with us. The girls introduced me. She thanked me for the book I had brought for Miss Morritt from Miss Emily Cholmley… Thoroughly rainy day. None of us able to stir out at all, not choosing, like Miss Morritt, to brave the rain in a great plaid.
Sunday 14 September [Scarborough]
M— & I went out at 4 & sauntered on the sands to the Spa & beyond it till near 5. Met the girls coming to say dinner was ready. Sat down to dinner at 5. In the evening, from 6¾ to 8, M— & Lou & little Charles Milne & I sauntered along the North sands as far as Scorby Mill. Darkish when we got back. Meaning to go to bed soon, came up to my dressing room at 9.50… Perhaps about 12½, every door & window in the house seemed to rattle, which disturbed us exceedingly. At 1st, we thought someone [was] breaking into the house but the continuance of the noises & the pattering of rain soon ushered in a tremendous thunder storm. Very vivid, fast-succeeding flashes of lightning enlightened the whole room. After some time came 1 or 2 tremendous peals of thunder & the heaviest rain I almost ever heard. In the midst of all this, we drew close together, made love & had one of the most delightfully long, tender kisses we have ever had. Said she, in the midst of it, ‘Oh, don’t leave me yet.’ This renewed & redoubled my feelings & we slept in each other’s arms.
Monday 15 September [Scarborough]
M— & I called on Miss & Miss Margaret Crompton, of Esholt, staying with their aunt Crompton (from Woodend) on the cliff. The Cromptons very civil to me… observed it was very good in me to call on them first. They had seen me walk past on Sunday. I had then my cloth pelisse on & all the people stared at me. M— owned afterwards she had observed it & felt uncomfortable. This morning I wore my velvet spencer & a net frill over my cravat. I must manage my appearance & figure differently. Must get a silk pelisse, perhaps from Miss Harvey. When I have more money & a good establishment I can do better. In the meanwhile, I will not be much in M—’s way. When I can give her éclat it will be very well. At present I cannot. She owns this sort of thing makes her feel uncomfortable. Is she ever conscious that she is at all ashamed of me? I could & ought to excuse & forgive it. I do do so, but my proud spirit whispers the consolation that it shall not always be so. It excites my emulation & ambition & may the day come when, even in outward circumstances, my friendship may do some honour to those who have it. When even the Misses Morritt & Goodric of their day may think it worth their while to pay me some civility. Eli had mentioned it & Miss Crompton laughed & asked if it was true, that I had walked to the top of Blackstone Edge. Eli & Lou called for us at the door & from the Cromptons’ we sauntered round along the sands to the Lighthouse, meaning to have gone on board a revenue-cutter lying in the harbour. Fortunately, it was 2 instead of 1 o’clock. The midshipman was not there & we came away. From the look of the thing altogether, I should not have fancied going on board. There was a ball given on its deck the other night. The party was asked, by some means or other, & Eli had even hesitated to refuse! The ladies danced quadrilles… Sat down to dinner at 3. A note from Miss Goodricke to M— or Lou to ask ‘one or two’ to go there in the evening. Would not ask all because they knew they had friends with them. Miss Goodric was introduced to me on Saturday & thanked me for the book I brought them… They passed us, too, this morning. It is quite evident they particularly mean to avoid shewing any civility to me. Miss Fountaine of Bath told them, in 1814, that I was masculine & said what they have never forgotten. Before this, they wanted to know me but ever since, they have lost no opportunity of shewing more than once, at the expence [sics] of common civility, that they are determined not to know me. Before, & at the time M— married, we both resented this & all but cut them. Now she & they are good friends again. I make no remark. I care nothing about it. I excuse them all &, tho’ the thing mortified me, I said not a word to betray this but soon acknowledged to myself that perhaps I was obliged to Miss Morritt & Miss Goodric. I am so little used to this sort of thing, perhaps it is a wholesome lesson to my vanity. I have no feeling now but the wish to live to shew myself to them in happier circumstances of society & general reputation. I should like to stand above them & have it in my power to throw them some civility from higher ground from that on which they stood. But I have some curiosity to know what they think of me. The very fault they find with me – is it in my self, my manner, or my situation in life?… In the evening from about 6¾ to near 8, walked towards Oliver’s Mount, then towards the Spa, & driven back from both routes by the high wind. Sauntered up & down the terrass leading up from the sands. A beautiful moonlight night. Sat down to tea at 8.
Tuesday 16 September [Scarborough]
Wrote the whole of the journals of yesterday & Sunday & so far of today, all which took me till 3½. M— having come in from walking ¼ hour before dinner (came in at 3) sat talking to me… I have left them to dine without me. Shall have a little cold meat at tea-time. Still very biliously inclined, but writing my journal has amused & done me good. I seemed to have opened my heart to an old friend. I can tell my journal what I can tell none else. I am satisfied with M— yet unhappy here. I seem to have no proper dress. The people stare at me. My figure is striking. I am tired of being here. Even if I looked like other people I should soon be weary of sauntering on the sands. I dawdle away my time & have no pleasure in it… M— came up to me for a few minutes before dinner… We touched on the subject of my figure. The people staring so on Sunday had made her then feel quite low. I expressed my sorrow & consideration for her. She knew well enough that I had staid in the house to avoid her being seen with me. ‘Yet,’ said I, ‘taking me altogether, would you have me changed?’ ‘Yes,’ said she. ‘To give you a feminine figure.’ ‘I would be contented with intellectuals & could you be contented with these, M—?’ ‘Yes,’ said she. ‘I could. It would make no difference to me.’ She had just before observed that I was getting mustaches [sic] & that when she first saw this it made her sick. If I had a dark complexion it would be quite shocking. I took no further notice than to say I would do anything I could that she wished… Sat down to a slice or 2 of cold boiled beef at 8. Had a glass of madeira, & then took tea with the rest. Felt much better for having fasted so long. Talked away the evening. Agreed that Lady Caroline Lambe’s novel, Glenarvon, is very talented but a very dangerous sort of book. Long conversation on religious subjects. Eli a little Calvinistically or evangelically, or pietistically given, or whatever else it may be proper to call it.
Wednesday 17 September [Scarborough]
Talked a little after we got into bed. Told M— I would not be with her again in strange places till I had an establishment of my own & that degree of importanc
e which would carry me thro’, for that she, & she owned it, had not consequence enough to, as it were, pass me off. If she were a Lady Mary it would be very different, but I knew her feelings & excused them. I felt for, & had a great deal of consideration for her, more than she was aware. I was going to offer never to be with her again till we could be together entirely, but I stopt short, tho’ not before she guessed that I meant offering to be off altogether. This seemed to affect her. I said I had stopt short, doubting whether it would be right to make such an offer, for things had perhaps gone too far. It was necessary for people to meet sometimes & I had no right to propose what might weaken the tie between us. For the intellectuals might not be enough for me. She said I did not know her feeling; the objection, the horror she had to anything unnatural. I shewed her I understood her & then observed upon my conduct & feelings being surely natural to me inasmuch as they were not taught, not fictitious, but instinctive. Said from my heart, I could make any sacrifice for her, tho’ she could not for me. I could have braved anything. Yes, I have often felt I could have rushed on ruin. She said it was lucky for us both her feelings were cooler. They tempered mine. I said this was not necessary. I had met with those who could feel in unison with me… My feelings now began to overpower me. I thought of the devotion with which I had loved her, & of all I had suffered. I contrasted these with all the little deceits she has put upon me & with those cooler feelings with which she thought it so lucky to have tempered mine. I thought of these things & my heart was almost agonized to bursting. The tears ran down my cheeks. I stifled my sobs but at last my agitation could not be concealed. M— bade me not try to hide it & it must have been about half past four before I could at all compose myself & drop to sleep quite exhausted. My head much swollen in the morning, yet I got up & cold water made me decent enough to appear at breakfast. M— cried a little last night & several times asked, ‘Can I say nothing to console you?’ ‘No, my love,’ said I, ‘nothing human can just now or I am sure you could.’ It was with great difficulty I could contain myself all the morning… I have been twice to the place with a bowel complaint & feel far from well. Surely both Lou & Eli must wonder what is the matter. Lou must have thought me in bad spirits yesterday, much more than today. M— has been sitting with me this last half-hour. I have been telling her she is not to blame. She could not make the sacrifice for me I could for her but I do not, ought not, to blame her for this. It is her nature & perhaps a wise dispensation of providence for us both. I have mentioned that Miss Morritt & Miss Goodricke’s conduct is so pointed they must have some especial reason for it. It cannot be merely my relative situation in life or my manners or my appearance. There must be something affecting character more than we know of. Explained that their civility was of no importance to me but such a pointed way of appearing to shew that they did not think me fit society for them would be striking from any persons. Said I only cared on M—’s account. Said more on the subject of acquiring more importance & then I could do with impunity what I could not do now. The day might come when I should be very differently off & then whatever éclat I had, I should be glad to shed it on M—. This did move her. She just said, ‘Fred, I do not deserve you,’ & burst into tears. She was rather convulsed, apparently unable to listen to me. I therefore sat by her in silence. She said she too had a bowel complaint. Had been gone into the garden half-hour ago & I have not seen her since. Lou has been here. Is just going out walking & I have desired her to take M— with her. I shall go & inquire after her. ’Tis now just 5½… M— did not go out. I found her crying in her own room. Staid a little, then left her for an hour to compose herself. Then we had a long conversation. She said I had done her good & seemed sensible of the truth of my remarks. She thought I should be happier without her. She was always giving me pain. I could do better without her than she without me. I behaved affectionately. She said she would have more energy of character. She would suit me better, for she loved me with all her heart & as well as she was capable of loving. I said this business might make us understand each other better & do us both good. We were mutually affectionate & kind & I hope we shall go on well together in future. The girls came home to tea. Cheerful chit-chat in the evening.
On Sunday 21 September, the company left Scarborough. Anne went to stay with the Norcliffes at Langton until 17 October and then joined M— at York until 22 October, when she returned to Shibden, taking M— with her. M— returned to Lawton Hall on 1 November.
Whilst at Malton and York, they attended the Music Festival (which ran for three days and evenings in York Minster), the theatre and went to a ball. M— went to stay at Langton for a couple of days in October.
Anne, while content enough to have M—’s company for this long period of time, still continued to analyse the events of the summer and autumn and found it hard to reconcile herself to M—’s evident feeling of shame at being seen in public with her. However loving they were when they were alone together, Anne recognised that something irreplaceable had gone from the relationship and it would never be the same again. Anne was now thirty-two years old. She considered herself no longer young, and, in addition, had suffered some severe psychological shocks due to M—’s behaviour and the dawning realisation that people such as the Miss Morritts and Miss Goodrickes of this world studiously avoided being seen in her company because of her ‘masculinity’. Anne’s youthful exuberance and romanticism were slowly giving way to a rather cynical worldliness. The ownership of property, travel, social aspiration, and her desire for a life-partner who would enhance her own status – all became desirable goals. Some of these ambitions were achieved in her lifetime; others were to bring her further humiliations as the years unfolded.
Sunday 21 September [Langton]
All off from Scarbro’, Watson & I on the barouche box behind, at 11.55… I got out at Malton at 3.20. Mrs Norcliffe had sent John Coates to meet me & he drove me in the gig to Langton. Mrs Norcliffe very glad to see me.
Monday 22 September [Langton]
Down to breakfast at 10. Slept in Isabella’s room last night. Most comfortable. At 11¾, Mrs Norcliffe & Burnett & I off in the carriage to York… Miss Marsh here to meet us. All went out immediately about tickets for the ball on Wednesday. Then went to see the balloon ascend from behind the house of correction. Mr Sadler was to have ascended at 4 but the day was very unfavourable, rainy & windy. The silk burst once or twice & it was 5 before he was off. He then struck against the walls & we all thought he had been kicked out. However, he got clear off &, we have heard tonight, landed at Selby & came here immediately in a chaise. It was said Captain Basil Hall R.N. had given a hundred pounds to ascend with him but I think he changed his mind, seeing the state of things so adverse. Mrs Norcliffe & Charlotte & I contrived to stand in the tread-mill & were thus sheltered from the rain. Got home to dinner at 5½ & sat down to dinner at 6. Charlotte Norcliffe & I walked back. Mrs Norcliffe had a chair from Miss Marsh’s. At 7, Isabella & I went to the theatre to see MacReady in Virginius. A very full house. MacReady’s act very fine. I sat between M— & Isabella. Lou behind us… Came up to bed at 11½. Put by all my things. Wrote the journal of Friday, Saturday & yesterday. Found a letter this morning waiting for me from my aunt (Shibden), to say she had sent 2 brace of moorgame which we ought to receive tomorrow morning.
Tuesday 23 September [York]
At 10¼, Isabella & Charlotte & I were seated in the nave of the Minster about midway between the 2nd & 3rd pillar from the orchestra. We had 1¾ hour to wait but had we been later we could not have got good seats. The Minster very full… 400 performers formed an excellent orchestra, the stands so arranged as to make the whole thing have a very fine effect opposite the gallery. Madame Catalani seemed tired & not well & her singing, tho’ wonderful, did not quite equal my expectations. Mrs Salmon sang most beautifully. Surely she is one of the best singers of Handel’s music. Pickpockets in the gallery. Dr Blonberg told us this evening at the concert it was true he had had his pocket picked in the gallery of £2
0. It is said 2 or 3 suspicious people have been taken up. Came away from the Minster just before the performance was over. Dashed thro’ the people & the rain &… got home at 4.35 & immediately sat down to Parsons to have my hair dressed. Then dined & dressed & the whole 7 of us went to the concert at 7.05, only just in time to get seats on the 3rd & 4th benches from the orchestra. Madam Catalani sang beautifully, particularly ‘Rule, Britannia!’ at the end. Beautiful violoncello solo from Lindley, & beautiful solo from Nicholson of Liverpool on the flute, wonderfully well played. A sad rowe [sic] about chairs. Mrs Norcliffe & I, after standing on the wet flags of the portico a considerable time, came home in 1 chair & the rest of our party followed as they could in chairs, very fortunate to have got them at all so soon.
Wednesday 24 September [York]
M— came & breakfasted with us. She did not go to the Minster today. Isabella, Charlotte, the 3 Daltons & I went at 10, just before the doors were opened. A desperate crowd. Pushed thro’ with difficulty & by dint of perseverance & management, got into the nave, the 5th bench from the orchestra… Our seats were excellent – much better than yesterday. The music & singing capital. The Messiah. Madame Catalani sang ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth’ better than ‘Comfort ye’. Mrs Salmon sang perfectly well. Never in better voice. The ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ transcendentally fine. Cramer, the leader, says there will never be such a thing again during the life of this generation. The Minster cannot be had again during the present dean’s lifetime. About 5,000 people in the Minster. Called for ¼ hour en passant at the Belcombes’. Parsons dressed my hair today as yesterday, before dinner. M— dined with us. I persuaded her to go with Mrs Norcliffe, Marianne & Esther Dalton, to the ball instead of the play. After dinner, dressed & wrote 3pp. & an end to my aunt, acknowledgement of the birds & account of the festival. Got to the rooms at 10¾. Found them full. A great squeeze to get in. Paced up & down & got home at 1.20. The Marchioness of Londonderry a blaze of diamonds – most beautiful large bouquet of diamonds. The Marquis, too, wore his star. A splendid ball & a very pleasant one. 16,000 [1600?] people in the room. Had a little red wine & water & came upstairs at 1¾. Wrote the above of today & had just done at 2.25. Lord Grantham is said to have offered twenty guineas this morning for a gallery ticket & could not get one. Five guineas offered in vain for a centre, or even side aisle, ticket.
The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister Page 32