LETTER XIII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDNESDAY, MARCH 1.
I now take up my pen to lay before you the inducements and motive whichmy friends have to espouse so earnestly the address of this Mr. Solmes.
In order to set this matter in a clear light, it is necessary to go alittle back, and even perhaps to mention some things which you alreadyknow: and so you may look upon what I am going to relate, as a kind ofsupplement to my letters of the 15th and 20th of January last.*
* Letters IV. and V.
In those letters, of which I have kept memorandums, I gave you anaccount of my brother's and sister's antipathy to Mr. Lovelace; and themethods they took (so far as they had then come to my knowledge) to ruinhim in the opinion of my other friends. And I told you, that after avery cold, yet not a directly affrontive behaviour to him, they all ofa sudden* became more violent, and proceeded to personal insults; whichbrought on at last the unhappy rencounter between my brother and him.
* See Letter IV.
Now you must know, that from the last conversation that passed betweenmy aunt and me, it comes out, that this sudden vehemence on mybrother's and sister's parts, was owing to stronger reasons than to thecollege-begun antipathy on his side, or to slighted love on hers;to wit, to an apprehension that my uncles intended to follow mygrandfather's example in my favour; at least in a higher degreethan they wish they should. An apprehension founded it seems on aconversation between my two uncles and my brother and sister: which myaunt communicated to me in confidence, as an argument to prevail uponme to accept of Mr. Solmes's noble settlements: urging, that such aseasonable compliance, would frustrate my brother's and sister's views,and establish me for ever in the love of my father and uncles.
I will give you the substance of this communicated conversation, afterI have made a brief introductory observation or two, which however Ihardly need to make to you who are so well acquainted with us all, didnot the series or thread of the story require it.
I have more than once mentioned to you the darling view some of us havelong had of raising a family, as it is called. A reflection, as I haveoften thought, upon our own, which is no considerable or upstart one, oneither side, on my mother's especially.--A view too frequently itseems entertained by families which, having great substance, cannot besatisfied without rank and title.
My uncles had once extended this view to each of us three children;urging, that as they themselves intended not to marry, we each ofus might be so portioned, and so advantageously matched, as thatour posterity, if not ourselves, might make a first figure in ourcountry.--While my brother, as the only son, thought the two girls mightbe very well provided for by ten or fifteen thousand pounds a-piece:and that all the real estates in the family, to wit, my grandfather's,father's, and two uncles', and the remainder of their respectivepersonal estates, together with what he had an expectation of fromhis godmother, would make such a noble fortune, and give him such aninterest, as might entitle him to hope for a peerage. Nothing less wouldsatisfy his ambition.
With this view he gave himself airs very early; 'That his grandfatherand uncles were his stewards: that no man ever had better: thatdaughters were but incumbrances and drawbacks upon a family:' and thislow and familiar expression was often in his mouth, and uttered alwayswith the self-complaisance which an imagined happy thought can besupposed to give the speaker; to wit, 'That a man who has sons brings upchickens for his own table,' [though once I made his comparison staggerwith him, by asking him, If the sons, to make it hold, were to havetheir necks wrung off?] 'whereas daughters are chickens brought upfor tables of other men.' This, accompanied with the equally politereflection, 'That, to induce people to take them off their hands, thefamily-stock must be impaired into the bargain,' used to put my sisterout of all patience: and, although she now seems to think a youngersister only can be an incumbrance, she was then often proposing to me tomake a party in our own favour against my brother's rapacious views, asshe used to call them: while I was for considering the liberties he tookof this sort, as the effect of a temporary pleasantry, which, in a youngman, not naturally good-humoured, I was glad to see; or as a foible thatdeserved raillery, but no other notice.
But when my grandfather's will (of the purport of which in my particularfavour, until it was opened, I was as ignorant as they) had lopped offone branch of my brother's expectation, he was extremely dissatisfiedwith me. Nobody indeed was pleased: for although every one loved me, yetbeing the youngest child, father, uncles, brother, sister, all thoughtthemselves postponed, as to matter of right and power [Who loves notpower?]: And my father himself could not bear that I should be madesole, as I may call it, and independent; for such the will, as to thatestate and the powers it gave, (unaccountably, as they all said,) mademe.
To obviate, therefore, every one's jealousy, I gave up to my father'smanagement, as you know, not only the estate, but the money bequeathedme (which was a moiety of what my grandfather had by him at his death;the other moiety being bequeathed to my sister); contenting myselfto take as from his bounty what he was pleased to allow me, withoutdesiring the least addition to my annual stipend. And then I hoped I hadlaid all envy asleep: but still my brother and sister (jealous, as nowis evident, of my two uncles' favour of me, and of the pleasure I hadgiven my father and them by this act of duty) were every now-and-thenoccasionally doing me covert ill offices: of which, however, I took theless notice, when I was told of them, as I thought I had removed thecause of their envy; and I imputed every thing of that sort to thepetulance they are both pretty much noted for.
My brother's acquisition then took place. This made us all very happy;and he went down to take possession of it: and his absence (on so goodan account too) made us still happier. Then followed Lord M.'s proposalfor my sister: and this was an additional felicity for the time. I havetold you how exceedingly good-humoured it made my sister.
You know how that went off: you know what came on in its place.
My brother then returned; and we were all wrong again: and Bella, asI observed in my letters abovementioned, had an opportunity to giveherself the credit of having refused Mr. Lovelace, on the score of hisreputed faulty morals. This united my brother and sister in one cause.They set themselves on all occasions to depreciate Mr. Lovelace, and hisfamily too (a family which deserves nothing but respect): and this gaverise to the conversation I am leading to, between my uncles and them: ofwhich I now come to give the particulars; after I have observed, that ithappened before the rencounter, and soon after the inquiry made into Mr.Lovelace's affairs had come out better than my brother and sister hopedit would.*
* See Letter IV.
They were bitterly inveighing against him, in their usual way,strengthening their invectives with some new stories in his disfavour,when my uncle Antony, having given them a patient hearing, declared,'That he thought the gentleman behaved like a gentleman; his niece Clarywith prudence; and that a more honourable alliance for the family, as hehad often told them, could not be wished for: since Mr. Lovelace had avery good paternal estate; and that, by the evidence of an enemy,all clear. Nor did it appear, that he was so bad a man as he had beenrepresented to be: wild indeed; but it was a gay time of life: he was aman of sense: and he was sure that his niece would not have him, ifshe had not good reason to think him reformed, or that there was alikelihood that she could reform him by her example.'
My uncle then gave one instance, my aunt told me, as a proof of agenerosity in Mr. Lovelace's spirit, which convinced him that he was nota bad man in nature; and that he was of a temper, he was pleased to say,like my own; which was, That when he (my uncle) had represented to him,that he might, if he pleased, make three or four hundred pounds a yearof his paternal estate, more than he did; he answered, 'That his tenantspaid their rents well: that it was a maxim with his family, from whichhe would by no means depart, Never to rack-rent old tenants, or theirdescendants; and that it was a pleasure to him, to see all his tenantslook fat, sleek, and contented.'
I indeed had once occasionally heard him say something like this; andthought he never looked so well as at that time;--except once; and thatwas in an instance given by him on the following incident.
An unhappy tenant of my uncle Antony came petitioning to my unclefor forbearance, in Mr. Lovelace's presence. When he had fruitlesslywithdrawn, Mr. Lovelace pleaded his cause so well, that the man wascalled in again, and had his suit granted. And Mr. Lovelace privatelyfollowed him out, and gave him two guineas, for present relief; theman having declared, that, at the time, he had not five shilling in theworld.
On this occasion, he told my uncle (but without any airs ofostentation), that he had once observed an old tenant and his wife in avery mean habit at church; and questioning them about it the next day,as he knew they had no hard bargain in their farm, the man said, he haddone some very foolish things with a good intention, which had put himbehind-hand, and he could not have paid his rent, and appear better.He asked him how long it would take him to retrieve the foolish stephe acknowledged he had made. He said, Perhaps two or three years. Wellthen, said he, I will abate you five pounds a year for seven years,provided you will lay it upon your wife and self, that you may make aSunday-appearance like MY tenants. Mean time, take this (putting hishand in his pocket, and giving him five guineas), to put yourselves inpresent plight; and let me see you next Sunday at church, hand in hand,like an honest and loving couple; and I bespeak you to dine with meafterwards.
Although this pleased me when I heard it, as giving an instance ofgenerosity and prudence at the same time, not lessening (as my uncletook notice) the yearly value of the farm, yet, my dear, I had nothrobs, no glows upon it!--Upon my word, I had not. Nevertheless I ownto you, that I could not help saying to myself on the occasion, 'Were itever to be my lot to have this man, he would not hinder me from pursuingthe methods I so much delight to take'--With 'A pity, that such a manwere not uniformly good!'
Forgive me this digression.
My uncle went on (as my aunt told me), 'That, besides his paternalestate, he was the immediate heir to very splendid fortunes: that, whenhe was in treaty for his niece Arabella, Lord M. told him (my uncle)what great things he and his two half-sisters intended to do for him,in order to qualify him for the title, which would be extinct at hisLordship's death, and which they hoped to procure for him, or a stillhigher, that of those ladies' father, which had been for some timeextinct on failure of heirs male: that it was with this view that hisrelations were all so earnest for his marrying: that as he saw notwhere Mr. Lovelace could better himself; so, truly, he thought there waswealth enough in their own family to build up three considerable ones:that, therefore, he must needs say, he was the more desirous of thisalliance, as there was a great probability, not only from Mr. Lovelace'sdescent, but from his fortunes, that his niece Clarissa might one daybe a peeress of Great Britain:--and, upon that prospect [here was themortifying stroke], he should, for his own part, think it not wrong tomake such dispositions as should contribute to the better support of thedignity.'
My uncle Harlowe, it seems, far from disapproving of what his brotherhad said, declared, 'That there was but one objection to an alliancewith Mr. Lovelace; to wit, his faulty morals: especially as so muchcould be done for Miss Bella, and for my brother too, by my father; andas my brother was actually possessed of a considerable estate by virtueof the deed of gift and will of his godmother Lovell.'
Had I known this before, I should the less have wondered at many thingsI have been unable to account for in my brother's and sister's behaviourto me; and been more on my guard than I imagined there was a necessityto be.
You may easily guess how much this conversation affected my brother atthe time. He could not, you know, but be very uneasy to hear two of hisstewards talk at this rate to his face.
He had from early days, by his violent temper, made himself both fearedand courted by the whole family. My father himself, as I have latelymentioned, very often (long before my brother's acquisition had made himstill more assuming) gave way to him, as to an only son who was to buildup the name, and augment the honour of it. Little inducement, therefore,had my brother to correct a temper which gave him so much considerationwith every body.
'See, Sister Bella,' said he, in an indecent passion before my uncles,on this occasion I have mentioned--'See how it is!--You and I ought tolook about us!--This little syren is in a fair way to out-uncle, as shehas already out-grandfather'd, us both!'
From this time (as I now find it plain upon recollection) did my brotherand sister behave to me, as to one who stood in their way; and to eachother as having but one interest: and were resolved, therefore, to bendall their force to hinder an alliance from taking effect, which theybelieved was likely to oblige them to contract their views.
And how was this to be done, after such a declaration from both myuncles?
My brother found out the way. My sister (as I have said) went hand inhand with him. Between them, the family union was broke, and every onewas made uneasy. Mr. Lovelace was received more and more coldly by all:but not being to be put out of his course by slights only, personalaffronts succeeded; defiances next; then the rencounter: that, as youhave heard, did the business. And now, if I do not oblige them, mygrandfather's estate is to be litigated with me; and I, who neverdesigned to take advantage of the independency bequeathed me, am to beas dependent upon my father's will, as a daughter ought to be who knowsnot what is good for herself. This is the language of the family now.
But if I will suffer myself to be prevailed upon, how happy (as they layit out) shall we all be!--Such presents am I to have, such jewels, andI cannot tell what, from every one in the family! Then Mr. Solmes'sfortunes are so great, and his proposals so very advantageous, (norelation whom he values,) that there will be abundant room to raisemine upon them, were the high-intended favours of my own relations tobe quite out of the question. Moreover, it is now, with this view,found out, that I have qualifications which of themselves will be a fullequivalent to Mr. Solmes for the settlements he is to make; and stillleave him under an obligation to me for my compliance. He himself thinksso, I am told--so very poor a creature is he, even in his own eyes, aswell as in theirs.
These desirable views answered, how rich, how splendid shall we allthree be! And I--what obligations shall I lay upon them all!--And thatonly by doing an act of duty so suitable to my character, and manner ofthinking; if, indeed, I am the generous as well as dutiful creature Ihave hitherto made them believe I am.
This is the bright side that is turned to my father and uncles, tocaptivate them: but I am afraid that my brother's and sister's design isto ruin me with them at any rate. Were it otherwise, would they not onmy return from you have rather sought to court than frighten me intomeasures which their hearts are so much bent to carry? A method theyhave followed ever since.
Mean time, orders are given to all the servants to shew the highestrespect to Mr. Solmes; the generous Mr. Solmes is now his character withsome of our family! But are not these orders a tacit confession,that they think his own merit will not procure him respect? He isaccordingly, in every visit he makes, not only highly caressed by theprincipals of our family, but obsequiously attended and cringed to bythe menials.--And the noble settlements are echoed from every mouth.
Noble is the word used to enforce the offers of a man who is mean enoughavowedly to hate, and wicked enough to propose to rob of their justexpectations, his own family, (every one of which at the same timestands in too much need of his favour,) in order to settle all he isworth upon me; and if I die without children, and he has none by anyother marriage, upon a family which already abounds. Such are hisproposals.
But were there no other motive to induce me to despise the upstart man,is not this unjust one to his family enough?--The upstart man, I repeat;for he was not born to the immense riches he is possessed of: richesleft by one niggard to another, in injury to the next heir, because thatother is a niggard. And should I not be as culpable, do you think, in myacceptance
of such unjust settlements, as he is in the offer of them, ifI could persuade myself to be a sharer in them, or suffer a reversionaryexpectation of possessing them to influence my choice?
Indeed, it concerns me not a little, that my friends could be brought toencourage such offers on such motives as I think a person of conscienceshould not presume to begin the world with.
But this it seems is the only method that can be taken to disappoint Mr.Lovelace; and at the same time to answer all my relations have wish foreach of us. And surely I will not stand against such an accession to thefamily as may happen from marrying Mr. Solmes: since now a possibilityis discovered, (which such a grasping mind as my brother's can easilyturn into a probability,) that my grandfather's estate will revert toit, with a much more considerable one of the man's own. Instances ofestates falling in, in cases far more unlikely than this, are insistedupon; and my sister says, in the words of an old saw, It is good to berelated to an estate.
While Solmes, smiling no doubt to himself at a hope so remote, by offersonly, obtains all their interests; and doubts not to join to his ownthe estate I am envied for; which, for the conveniency of its situationbetween two of his, will it seems be of twice the value to him thatit would be of to any other person; and is therefore, I doubt not, astronger motive with him than the wife.
These, my dear, seem to me the principal inducements of my relations toespouse so vehemently as they do this man's suit. And here, once more,must I deplore the family fault, which gives those inducements such aforce as it will be difficult to resist.
And thus far, let matters with regard to Mr. Solmes and me come out asthey will, my brother has succeeded in his views; that is to say, hehas, in the first place, got my FATHER to make the cause his own, and toinsist upon my compliance as an act of duty.
My MOTHER has never thought fit to oppose my father's will, when once hehas declared himself determined.
My UNCLES, stiff, unbroken, highly-prosperous bachelors, give me leaveto say, (though very worthy persons in the main,) have as high notionsof a child's duty, as of a wife's obedience; in the last of which, mymother's meekness has confirmed them, and given them greater reason toexpect the first.
My aunt HERVEY (not extremely happy in her own nuptials, and perhapsunder some little obligation) is got over, and chuses [sic] not toopen her lips in my favour against the wills of a father and uncles sodetermined.
This passiveness in my mother and in my aunt, in a point so contraryto their own first judgments, is too strong a proof that my father isabsolutely resolved.
Their treatment of my worthy MRS. NORTON is a sad confirmation of it:a woman deserving of all consideration for her wisdom, and every bodythinking so; but who, not being wealthy enough to have due weight in apoint against which she has given her opinion, and which they seembent upon carrying, is restrained from visiting here, and even fromcorresponding with me, as I am this very day informed.
Hatred to Lovelace, family aggrandizement, and this great motivepaternal authority!--What a force united must they be supposed to have,when singly each consideration is sufficient to carry all before it!
This is the formidable appearance which the address of this disagreeableman wears at present.
My BROTHER and my SISTER triumph.--They have got me down, as Hannahoverheard them exult. And so they have (yet I never knew that Iwas insolently up); for now my brother will either lay me under anobligation to comply to my own unhappiness, and so make me an instrumentof his revenge upon Lovelace; or, if I refuse, will throw me intodisgrace with my whole family.
Who will wonder at the intrigues and plots carried on by underminingcourtiers against one another, when a private family, but three of whichcan possibly have clashing interests, and one of them (as she presumesto think) above such low motives, cannot be free from them?
What at present most concerns me, is, the peace of my mother's mind!How can the husband of such a wife (a good man too!--But oh! thisprerogative of manhood!) be so positive, so unpersuadable, to one whohas brought into the family means, which they know so well the value of,that methinks they should value her the more for their sake?
They do indeed value her: but, I am sorry to say, she has purchasedthat value by her compliances; yet has merit for which she ought to bevenerated; prudence which ought of itself to be conformed to in everything.
But whither roves my pen? How dare a perverse girl take these libertieswith relations so very respectable, and whom she highly respects? Whatan unhappy situation is that which obliges her, in her own defence as itwere, to expose their failings?
But you, who know how much I love and reverence my mother, will judgewhat a difficulty I am under, to be obliged to oppose a scheme which shehas engaged in. Yet I must oppose it (to comply is impossible); and mustwithout delay declare my opposition, or my difficulties will increase;since, as I am just now informed, a lawyer has been this very dayconsulted [Would you have believed it?] in relation to settlements.
Were ours a Roman Catholic family, how much happier for me, that theythought a nunnery would answer all their views!--How happy, had nota certain person slighted somebody! All then would have been probablyconcluded between them before my brother had arrived to thwartthe match: then had I a sister; which now I have not; and twobrothers;--both aspiring; possibly both titled: while I should only havevalued that in either which is above title, that which is truly noble inboth!
But by what a long-reaching selfishness is my brother governed! By whatremote, exceedingly remote views! Views, which it is in the power of theslightest accident, of a fever, for instance, (the seeds of which arealways vegetating, as I may say, and ready to burst forth, in his ownimpetuous temper,) or of the provoked weapon of an adversary, to blow upand destroy!
I will break off here. Let me write ever so freely of my friends, I amsure of your kind construction: and I confide in your discretion, thatyou will avoid reading to or transcribing for others such passages asmay have the appearance of treating too freely the parental, or even thefraternal character, or induce others to censure for a supposed failurein duty to the one, or decency to the other,
Your truly affectionate, CL. HARLOWE.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 Page 16