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Love & Friendship

Page 19

by Whit Stillman


  R. DE COURCY

  Letter 37

  Lady Susan to Mr. De Courcy.

  Upper Seymour St.

  I am satisfied—& will trouble you no more when these few lines are dismissed. The Engagement which you were eager to form a fortnight ago is no longer compatible with your views, & I rejoice to find that the prudent advice of your Parents has not been given in vain. Your restoration to Peace will, I doubt not, speedily follow this act of filial Obedience, & I flatter myself with the hope of surviving _my_ share in this disappointment.

  S. V.

  Letter 38

  Mrs. Johnson to Lady Susan Vernon.

  Edward Street.

  I am grieved, tho’ I cannot be astonished, at your rupture with Mr. De Courcy; he has just informed Mr. Johnson of it by letter. He leaves London, he says, to-day. Be assured that I partake in all your feelings, & do not be angry if I say that our intercourse, even by Letter, must soon be given up. It makes me miserable; but Mr. Johnson vows that if I persist in the connection, he will settle in the country for the rest of his life—& you know it is impossible to submit to such an extremity while any other alternative remains.

  You have heard of course that the Manwarings are to part, & I am afraid Mrs. M. will come home to us again; but she is still so fond of her Husband, & frets so much about him, that perhaps she may not live long.

  Miss Manwaring is just come to Town to be with her Aunt, & they say that she declares she will have Sir James Martin before she leaves London again. If I were you, I would certainly get him myself. I had almost forgot to give you my opinion of Mr. De Courcy, I am really delighted with him; he is full as handsome, I think, as Manwaring, & with such an open, good-humoured countenance that one cannot help loving him at first sight. Mr. Johnson & he are the greatest friends in the World. Adieu, my dearest Susan. I wish matters did not go so perversely. That unlucky visit to Langford! But I dare say you did all for the best, & there is no defying Destiny.

  Yr. sincerely attached

  ALICIA.

  Letter 39

  Lady Susan to Mrs. Johnson.

  Upper Seymour St.

  My dear Alicia

  I yeild to the necessity which parts us. Under circumstances you could not act otherwise. Our friendship cannot be impaired by it, & in happier times, when your situation is as independent as mine, it will unite us again in the same Intimacy as ever. For this I shall impatiently wait; & meanwhile can safely assure you that I never was more at ease, or better satisfied with myself & everything about me than at the present hour. Your Husband I abhor—Reginald I despise—& I am secure of never seeing either again. Have I not reason to rejoice? Manwaring is more devoted to me than ever; & were he at liberty, I doubt if I could resist even Matrimony offered by _him_. This event, if his wife live with you, it may be in your power to hasten. The violence of her feelings, which must wear her out, may be easily kept in irritation. I rely on your friendship for this. I am now satisfied that I never could have brought myself to marry Reginald; & am equally determined that Frederica never _shall_. To-morrow I shall fetch her from Churchill, & let Maria Manwaring tremble for the consequence. Frederica shall be Sir James’s wife before she quits my house. _She_ may whimper, & the Vernons may storm; I regard them not. I am tired of submitting my will to the Caprices of others; of resigning my own Judgement in deference to those to whom I owe no Duty, & for whom I feel no respect. I have given up too much, have been too easily worked on; but Frederica shall now find the difference.

  Adieu, dearest of Friends. May the next Gouty Attack be more favourable! And may you always regard me as unalterably yours

  S. VERNON.

  Letter 40

  Lady De Courcy to Mrs. Vernon.

  Parklands.

  My dear Catherine

  I have charming news for you, & if I had not sent off my Letter this morning, you might have been spared the vexation of knowing of Reginald’s being gone to Town, for he is returned, Reginald is returned, not to ask our consent to his marrying Lady Susan, but to tell us they are parted forever! He has been only an hour in the House, & I have not been able to learn particulars, for he is so very low that I have not the heart to ask questions; but I hope we shall soon know all. This is the most joyful hour he has ever given us since the day of his birth. Nothing is wanting but to have you here, & it is our particular wish & entreaty that you would come to us as soon as you can. You have owed us a visit many long weeks. I hope nothing will make it inconvenient to Mr. Vernon, & pray bring all my Grand-Children; & your dear Neice is included, of course; I long to see her. It has been a sad, heavy winter hitherto, without Reginald, & seeing nobody from Churchill. I never found the season so dreary before; but this happy meeting will make us young again. Frederica runs much in my thoughts, & when Reginald has recovered his usual good spirits (as I trust he soon will), we will try to rob him of his heart once more, & I am full of hopes of seeing their hands joined at no great distance.

  Yr. affec: Mother,

  C. DE COURCY.

  Letter 41

  Mrs. Vernon to Lady De Courcy.

  Churchill.

  My dear Madam

  Your Letter has surprised me beyond measure! Can it be true that they are really separated—& forever? I should be overjoyed if I dared depend on it, but after all that I have seen, how can one be secure? And Reginald really with you! My surprise is the greater because on Wednesday, the very day of his coming to Parklands, we had a most unexpected & unwelcome visit from Lady Susan, looking all chearfulness & good-humour, & seeming more as if she were to marry him when she got to London, than as if parted from him forever. She staid nearly two hours, was as affectionate & agreable as ever, & not a syllable, not a hint, was dropped of any disagreement or coolness between them. I asked her whether she had seen my Brother since his arrival in Town—not, as you may suppose, with any doubt of the fact, but merely to see how she looked. She immediately answered, without any embarrassment, that he had been kind enough to call on her on Monday, but she believed he had already returned home—which I was very far from crediting.

  Your kind invitation is accepted by us with pleasure, & on Thursday next we & our little ones will be with you. Pray Heaven, Reginald may not be in Town again by that time!

  I wish we could bring dear Frederica too, but I am sorry to say that her Mother’s errand hither was to fetch her away; and, miserable as it made the poor Girl, it was impossible to detain her. I was thoroughly unwilling to let her go, & so was her Uncle; & all that could be urged we _did_ urge; but Lady Susan declared that as she was now about to fix herself in Town for several Months, she could not be easy if her Daughter were not with her, for Masters, &c. Her Manner, to be sure, was very kind & proper, & Mr. Vernon believes that Frederica will now be treated with affection. I wish I could think so too!

  The poor girl’s heart was almost broke at taking leave of us. I charged her to write to me very often, & to remember that if she were in any distress we should be always her friends. I took care to see her alone, that I might say all this, & I hope made her a little more comfortable. But I shall not be easy till I can go to Town & judge of her situation myself.

  I wish there were a better prospect than now appears of the Match which the conclusion of your Letter declares your expectation of.

  At present it is not very likely.

  Yrs. &c.

  CATH. VERNON.

  Conclusion

  This Correspondence, by a meeting between some of the parties, & a separation between the others, could not, to the great detriment of the Post office Revenue, be continued longer. Very little assistance to the State could be derived from the Epistolary Intercourse of Mrs. Vernon & her neice; for the former soon perceived, by the style of Frederica’s letters, that they were written under her Mother’s inspection, & therefore deferring all particular inquiry till she could make it personally in Town, ceased writing minutely or often.

  Having learnt enough in the meanwhile from her open-hearted Broth
er, of what had passed between him & Lady Susan to sink the latter lower than ever in her opinion, she was proportionably more anxious to get Frederica removed from such a Mother, & placed under her own care; and, tho’ with little hope of success, was resolved to leave nothing unattempted that might offer a chance of obtaining her Sister-in-law’s consent to it. Her anxiety on the subject made her press for an early visit to London; & Mr. Vernon, who, as it must already have appeared, lived only to do whatever he was desired, soon found some accommodating Business to call him thither. With a heart full of the Matter, Mrs. Vernon waited on Lady Susan shortly after her arrival in Town, & was met with such an easy & chearful affection, as made her almost turn from her with horror. No remembrance of Reginald, no consciousness of Guilt, gave one look of embarrassment. She was in excellent spirits, & seemed eager to shew at once, by every possible attention to her Brother & Sister, her sense of their kindness, & her pleasure in their society.

  Frederica was no more altered than Lady Susan; the same restrained Manners, the same timid Look in the presence of her Mother as heretofore, assured her Aunt of her situation’s being uncomfortable, & confirmed her in the plan of altering it. No unkindness, however, on the part of Lady Susan appeared. Persecution on the subject of Sir James was entirely at an end—his name merely mentioned to say that he was not in London; & indeed, in all her conversation she was solicitous only for the welfare & improvement of her Daughter, acknowledging, in terms of grateful delight, that Frederica was now growing every day more & more what a Parent could desire.

  Mrs. Vernon, surprised & incredulous, knew not what to suspect, and, without any change in her own views, only feared greater difficulty in accomplishing them. The first hope of anything better was derived from Lady Susan’s asking her whether she thought Frederica looked quite as well as she had done at Churchill, as she must confess herself to have sometimes an anxious doubt of London’s perfectly agreeing with her.

  Mrs. Vernon, encouraging the doubt, directly proposed her Neice’s returning with them into the country. Lady Susan was unable to express her sense of such kindness, yet knew not, from a variety of reasons, how to part with her Daughter; & as, tho’ her own plans were not yet wholly fixed, she trusted it would ere long be in her power to take Frederica into the country herself, concluded by declining entirely to profit by such unexampled attention. Mrs. Vernon, however, persevered in the offer of it; & tho’ Lady Susan continued to resist, her resistance in the course of a few days seemed somewhat less formidable.

  The lucky alarm of an Influenza decided what might not have been decided quite so soon. Lady Susan’s maternal fears were then too much awakened for her to think of anything but Frederica’s removal from the risk of infection. Above all Disorders in the World, she most dreaded the influenza for her Daughter’s constitution! Frederica returned to Churchill with her uncle & aunt; & three weeks afterwards, Lady Susan announced her being married to Sir James Martin.

  Mrs. Vernon was then convinced of what she had only suspected before, that she might have spared herself all the trouble of urging a removal which Lady Susan had doubtless resolved on from the first. Frederica’s visit was nominally for six weeks; but her Mother, tho’ inviting her to return in one or two affectionate Letters, was very ready to oblige the whole Party by consenting to a prolongation of her stay, & in the course of two months ceased to write of her absence, & in the course of two more to write to her at all.

  Frederica was therefore fixed in the family of her Uncle & Aunt till such time as Reginald De Courcy could be talked, flattered, & finessed into an affection for her—which, allowing leisure for the conquest of his attachment to her Mother, for his abjuring all future attachments, & detesting the Sex, might be reasonably looked for in the course of a Twelvemonth. Three Months might have done it in general, but Reginald’s feelings were no less lasting than lively.

  Whether Lady Susan was or was not happy in her second Choice—I do not see how it can ever be ascertained—for who would take her assurance of it on either side of the question? The World must judge from Probability; she had nothing against her but her Husband & her Conscience.

  Sir James may seem to have drawn a harder lot than mere Folly merited. I leave him, therefore, to all the Pity that anybody can give him. For myself, I confess that _I_ can pity only Miss Manwaring, who, coming to Town & putting herself to an expense in Cloathes which impoverished her for two years, on purpose to secure him, was defrauded of her due by a Woman ten years older than herself.

  FINIS

  Note on the Conclusion: What utter gibberish.

  About the Author

  Whit Stillman—winner of France’s Prix Fitzgerald for his prior novel—is the writer-director of five films, including Metropolitan, Barcelona, The Last Days of Disco, Damsels in Distress, and Love & Friendship, a mendacious representation of this story. At university, he was an editor of the Harvard Crimson, and he later worked in book publishing and journalism. His first novel, The Last Days of Disco, With Cocktails at Petrossian Afterwards, was also derived from a film story.

  Also by Whit Stillman

  The Last Days of Disco, With Cocktails at Petrossian Afterwards

  * To those who object to this inelegant term—“Authoress”—it is the spinster’s own. In an impudent letter to His Royal Highness the Prince Regent’s librarian, the Rev. James Stanier Clarke, she wrote: “I think I may boast myself to be, with all possible Vanity, the most unlearned, & uninformed Female who ever dared to be an Authoress.” This characterisation I will not dispute despite her evident insincerity in making it.

  * Curiously, another memoirist, the spinster’s nephew, has cited the same passage in explaining his motive for writing his memoir of his aunt. As both explorers & authors go on “voyages of discovery,” such coincidences are not surprising.

  * So that the reader might directly see the falsity of the spinster’s account, the publisher has included its full text as an appendix. Omitted, however, are her earlier drafts describing actual scenes (as she misrepresented them) before she turned her account into the epistolary form affected by the author of Pamela and the late Fanny Burney (Madame D’Arblay), whose literary and social distinction she sought to emulate, though without success.

  * For these events I had the later recollections of Mrs. Cross herself.

  * The etymological scholar Hendrik Post has caught me out here. The term “boring” was not so used in the last century. The word then was “borish,” which is too easily confused with “boorish.” I hope it has not been tedious of me to clarify this point.

  * Pronounced “Mannering,” the “w” silent.

  * An innovation in that period: Though reading glasses originated in Thirteenth-Century Italy, spectacles as we now know them, with attachments passing over the ears, were an English invention of the last century.

  * A magnificent heritage of laws and traditions that have guided the greatest of nations and, now, empires, not a written document like the tedious & literal American one (which might, though, be suited to that people).

  ** According to Whig legend this statue, cast of lead, was cut up and melted down to make 42,088 musket balls; such an exact count might normally be questioned, but those familiar with the colonial Whigs’ petty character and ludicrous penny-pinching, which had for decades frustrated sound administration, consider it plausible.

  * The language does not appear in the authoress’ false “True Account” included as an appendix to this volume. However it was cited in her pre-epistolary version of that narrative. I make no representation as to its authenticity.

  * I later grew to admire Frederica but at this stage her behaviour was without question disloyal as the reader will soon learn.

  * Regarding the frequent mention of Sir James’ laughter I must repeat that this all, or mostly, derives from the anonymous authoress who sought, for her own and the DeCourcys’ purposes, to denigrate him as a foolish simpleton.

  ** John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough (1650�
�1722), led victorious campaigns against Louis XIV’s French forces; later, a victim of Whig slander.

  * A sharp distinction should be maintained between “despised,” as was the radical John Wilkes, and “despisefied,” as was my uncle. Wilkes was either admired or despised for true reasons, not just from the haughty contempt of an aristocratic clique. Wilkes’ distant relative John Wilkes Booth, assassin of the American President, Abraham Lincoln, was also truly despised, for good reason, not merely despisefied.

  ** “Guffaw” was already in use in those times; the term, dating from the Sixteenth Century, derives from the Scottish “gawf,” onomatopoeia for a boisterous or vulgar laugh.

  * Biblical king, known for his wisdom (1 Kings 3:16–28).

  * Retrogent, from the Latin, refers to those who interpret positive facts and qualities as their opposite, who find the dark lining within every silver cloud; sadly, a common trait in our country though the word itself is now rare.

  * Excluding pearls and some berries.

  * From the Latin verb rusticārī, meaning to live or stay in the country or to practise farming. Since the early Eighteenth Century “rusticate” came also to refer to students being “sent down,” or “up,” from a leading university or public school. Rustic is derived from the adjective rūsticus.

  * William Cowper (1731–1800), poet and hymnodist.

  ** Alexander Pope (1688–1744), incontestably the greatest of our poets.

  * Pronounced “Cooper” except in Wales and by certain Cowper family descendants (the poet himself was childless). Though educated at Westminster, Cowper was not good at games, turning then to verse and hymnody.

 

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