Gentleman Jack

by Katy Derbyshire

  One morning in bed, Maria said to Anne, ‘There is something you have not told me.’ I denied it in such a manner that she more & more suspected it & said she knew Mariana had been more to me than I had allowed. She asked if it was before or after her marriage. Said I, ‘Oh, do not ask me. Never name the subject again.’ Anne got up and went to wash, but after half an hour she thought better of it, went back to Maria and told the whole story of Mariana’s marriage – everything correctly, only would not allow, that is disguised, that I had had any connection with her since her marriage.63 Shortly before that, Mariana had sent greetings to Maria Barlow in a letter. Always concerned for her lovers to get on well with each other, Anne wished for Maria to send greetings back. Maria, however, thought it would not be true, nor her sending. She could not be half so civil. She ‘could throw her into a ditch’. Anne felt some consternation. I see she is fond of me but she would be desperately jealous, worse than Mariana, whom I could more easily cheat.64

  Maria had had a life before Anne too. Two admirers were seeking her attentions, a Mr William Bell from her native Guernsey and Mr Hancock, a wholesaler in London. Before Maria had let down her resistance, Anne had been whispering in her ear, ‘Don’t marry and forget me.’ 65 After only nine rather up-and-down days of living together, Anne entreated Maria to marry & consult her own welfare, hinting as gently as I could the uncertainty of my circumstances & that I would not for worlds be any tie upon her to prevent her marrying. In fact, I had been musing over Mariana’s letter & had even before thought it would be best to prepare a little hole to creep out at. Perhaps she thought of this, but I denied it all when she asked me why I was so suddenly changed as to advise her so much to marry. Poor soul! The tears trickled quietly down her cheeks the whole time.66

  Anne stayed in Paris until 31 March 1825. She and Maria visited the prison cell at the Conciergerie where Marie Antoinette had awaited her execution, and viewed documents from the case against Joan of Arc next door in the Sainte Chapelle, where the archives of the Palais de Justice were housed at the time. All in all, however, despite costing her aunt and uncle another £70, Anne’s stay had not been a success. Neither was she cured of her affliction, nor had she significantly improved her French, seeing as she spoke only English with Maria Barlow. Anne had frittered away seven costly months in Paris, distracted by a sexual affair that had absolutely no significance to her. I was sorry to leave her but yet, somehow my sorrow was not so deep as I expected. I felt no inclination to shed another tear about her. [...] Somehow my heart is not so deep in the business as it ought to be & I scarce know why I have gone on, & led & been led on. Very strangely, it seems like a dream to me. [...] How will it all end? I cannot help thinking she has played her cards better than I have. [...] I fear this is the worst scrape I have ever been in.67

  Anne arrived back in Halifax on 11 April 1825. Her uncle and aunt were very good to me. They say nothing is wrong I do & are delighted to see me back again. In fact, it had been very hard for them to do without their niece. Aunt Anne was very rheumatic. Could scarcely move from her chair. Screaming with pain every now & then. I have never seen her so bad.68 Uncle James also seemed more sickly and immobile than before; he must always have someone at his elbow to assist in the management of his affairs.69 She visited tenant farmers in his name, signed a contract on his behalf for the first time and supervised the re-routing of a public footpath, moving it from the courtyard of Shibden Hall to an appropriate distance from the house. She abandoned the meagre diet, cool baths and mercury, and returned to better health.

  Maria, however, took to bed with a high fever after Anne’s departure. I thought I was near my end,70 she wrote to Anne, making it clear in letter after letter that she did not want to let her go. You have taught me much untaught before,71 which she could not forget and which was why she did not want to take up either of her admirers. Anne picked up the erotic energy with which Maria wrote her letters and slightly alluded to our connection. No-one could possibly understand it but herself. I said I still sighed after happiness gone by with a sigh more deep & long than she might think.72 To herself, she noted I must be serious in recommending her to marry Mr Bell or make up my mind to have her myself. [...] If she had a little more money I should not hesitate a moment, but, alas, it would be a bad connection for me. But my heart is somewhat won upon.73

  Plagued by indecision, she asked her aunt and uncle for advice. My aunt had talked my uncle over while I left them. They would like to see how & with whom they are likely to leave me.74 Aunt Anne and Uncle James encouraged Anne to bring the woman of her choice to Shibden Hall during their lifetime. Anne told them about her increasing frustration with Mariana. As Charles would not die to please anyone, [...] all chance whether Mariana & I are together. Should I find anyone who would suit me better, & should Charles live, Mariana will lose me.75 She also spoke to them about Mrs Barlow & mentioned the real state of the case between us very honestly. They both seemed very well inclined towards her. Were I really wishful to have her I am sure they would throw no obstacle in the way. On the contrary, they appear much in her favour. I told them she had four hundred a year & my aunt and I agreed this evening she might be better for me with this than Mariana with five hundred – especially as Maria had cared for Anne very well in Paris and her uncle and aunt were becoming more and more frail. But tho’ I speak most highly of Mrs Barlow & that it would be my own fault if I was not happy with her, yet I owned I was very odd & perhaps I should, after all, like a person with more éclat about her. [...] My aunt is for Mrs Barlow. [...] But, alas, I feel it would not do. [...] From the very first I have fancied her hurrying me into the thing. [...] And even now the idea occurs to me of Mr Bell’s being made a means of making me engage myself to her. [...] I am determined to be cautious. I may hereafter choose better.76

  And so Anne wrote Maria a pathos-laden letter persuading her to marry Mr Bell. Maria! the more you are firmly rooted in my remembrance and esteem, the more I feel myself incapable of enduring the thought, that it could be possible to promote my happiness by any means less conducive to your interest, than to mine. I have considered the matter deeply, I have weighed it on the balance with the most impartial justice in my power, and, taking it for granted that Mr B–’s circumstances are in every respect, as favourable as I have been given to understand, I am quite sure I should not be happy under the self-reproach of having prevented you giving him the answer he must deserve, and, must expect.77 In overblown sentences, Anne prophesied to Maria that she would learn to love Mr Bell, emphasising her own great sacrifice. The letter will do very well. I have shed many tears over it. I know not how it is, my own style affects me. Well may she feel it. Such beautiful sentimentality will probably not be addressed to her by anybody.78

  Mariana

  1825–1826

  In early August of 1825, Anne accompanied her rheumatism-plagued aunt to take the waters at Buxton, where she had consoled herself with Nantz after her sister Mariana’s wedding nine years previously. Anne also sought out the resort physician, whose prescription proved as ineffective as all the others, however. Maria had responded to Anne’s advice to marry Mr Bell with the words I may love you to the latest breath of my existence. That privilege cannot be taken from me. Now, a military band in Buxton reminded Anne of Paris, where she had heard similar music with Maria. My heart turned towards her. I felt as if I could write instantly, ‘Maria, live for me. Do not marry. Come what may, I will be yours.’ 1

  Mariana Lawton sensed that this woman in Paris might become a threat to her. She had last seen Anne over a year ago, for only three days. They had last spent any decent length of time together almost two years before. So she suggested to Anne that she might come over to Buxton for a day and, to test the waters, Mariana added that she would take a room at a hotel if she didn’t make it back that same evening. Anne answered by return of post: your thought of getting a bed at Clayton’s lodgings rather surprised me. Should you come alone, you will find my room very comfortable.2
Upon which Mariana announced she was staying not one day but ten. Mariana’s coming put Anne in a very restless mood. For the moment I thought more of Mariana and less seriously of Mrs Barlow. That same evening, though, she relapsed into my carelessness towards Mariana and tenderness towards Mrs Barlow.3 In her indecision, she and her aunt talked all the evening about Mrs Barlow or Mariana. Very candidly about both. Of Mariana, she felt if I knew I should never see her again, assured of her being well and happy, I should get over it without much trouble.4

  When Mariana arrived in Buxton, Anne received her as well as I could but felt restrained. It was the second night of her ‘cousin’. Pretended it would do her harm to have a kiss yet, at last, as if unable to resist, she not discouraging it, had one.5 What was inhibiting Anne was less Mariana’s menstruation or the thought of Maria than her concern for her own health. In Paris, Anne had decided I must have no further connection with her. She will certainly infect me again.6 On the second night, Anne still felt restrained. Glad to make the excuse of her having her ‘cousin’ & pretended to sleep, then to awake excited, she nothing loth, & we had a short kiss. Not until the third night was she back in her stride. Had Mariana twice & about two kisses each time. Lay awake talking till six this morning. Told her honestly of the doubts I had lately had about her. [...] I reassured her, saying that my telling her all this was a proof I had changed my mind. [...] I said I now found if I could not be happy with her, I could not without her & that, if happy at all, I must be made so by her. Anne also told her about Maria Barlow. I owned I had done all I could to gain her affections. [...] I might try her as fair game. [...] Owned we had slept together & the state of my health was the only thing that had prevented nearer intercourse. Made her regard for me appear pure & beautiful. Unlike Maria, who made no attempt to hide her jealousy, Mariana either felt or pretended affection for Maria and said how interesting she must be.

  When Anne read her last letters to Maria out loud to Mariana, however, her lover almost fainted. She bade me take off her wedding ring, which had never been off since I myself put it on, & put it on again in token of my return to her. I could not, but in agony of sobbing said it could only mark that there had been a time when my heart had left her, which I now felt had never been the case. She therefore bade me leave the thing undisturbed & I kissed it in proof of my re-promised faith. Asked if she forgave me. Oh, yes, yes, it was the thought of the fearful danger of losing me that she had escaped, which so agonized her. We mutually professed our love, agreed we both wanted to sleep & therefore got into bed, lay quiet & went to sleep without attempting to have a kiss.7

  They made the next night a new wedding night. Mariana told Anne that her womb had prolapsed, according to her doctor. I said I should like to feel it. Just put up the right middle finger, brought it back bloodied, surprised to find no entrance into the womb. Said I really could not be quite sure but I thought Charles had never broken the membrane. It was very odd but I would feel again another time. ‘Then,’ said Mariana, half in wonder, half in joke, ‘I am the virgin Mary still.’ She said Charles had never gone higher, she thought, than an inch, if so much, & from her account I do not think he has ever been able to do the business.8 Presumably Mariana was denying her marital sex exactly the way Anne made a secret of her sexual escapades. Anne, however, was intoxicated by the idea of having deflowered Mariana, forgetting her period had started on 30 August. Yet just as they had received their godchild after the last renewal of their vows, this time they felt they had enjoyed their real wedding night, after at least eleven years of ‘marriage’.

  Over the next few days, they slept together at every opportunity – late in the evening, at night, in the early morning and during the day while Aunt Anne went out for a drive. At 12 ½ Mariana and I went upstairs. Began to be on the amoroso. Pushed up my right middle finger. Cordingley interrupted us. At it again. Gave her a good kiss &, not pushing hard, merely pushing up & down – no blood followed. [...] I had done the business better than I had thought & she was now no longer a virgin, at which we were both well satisfied. My having had to do this for her seems to have delighted us both. It proves that Charles has had not much power & that she has never belonged but to me. Having more power in her loins than Charles was too sweet a thought for Anne to doubt, especially as Mariana encouraged the idea. My having found her still a virgin, in fact, was a great comfort to her. She would die as she had lived, mine & mine only. She really does seem devoted to me & will make me happy. I love her. We will understand each other better in future & I am satisfied.9

  To extend their joy, Anne wrote to her Uncle James that Aunt Anne was doing better but the doctor advised they stayed another two weeks. The instant Uncle James sent the required £70, Anne and Mariana set off without Aunt Anne on a three-day tour of the area in the Lawtons’ light open carriage. They viewed Haddon Hall, Alton Abbey and the house and gardens at Chatsworth, enjoying the famous tart at the village of Bakewell. Three or four all at once last night & one more, a good one, at four this morning.10 They had barely returned from their mini-honeymoon to Buxton when Charles turned up unannounced. At the Crescent, Anne almost ran into him, but she pretended not to have seen him as she came down the stairs, turned around and sought shelter in the women’s section of the baths. He left after only three hours.

  Mariana, Anne and her aunt left Buxton on 21 September. In Manchester, where they stayed overnight, the lovers gave each other intimate parting gifts. During the preceding nights of love, Anne had owned that, tho’ I had never given any of the hair of my own queer to anyone, yet I had asked for & received it from others. I had some among my curiosities now. She would know whose. Guessed everybody she could. At last guessed Mrs Milne & my blushing or looking conscious made her suspect. I saw she felt hurt & hastened to contradict. I had blushed at the thought of her guessing so nearly, for it was her sister Anne [Nantz] to whom I had alluded & I had last night said that Anne had made up to me & that we had gone far in flirting, tho’ Mariana thinks not how far. I said I had completely persuaded Anne there was nothing more than friendship between Mariana and me.11 Whether Nantz or Mariana believed that is another matter. In any case, Mariana wanted to be part of her curiosities collection. She cut the hair from her own queer & I that from mine, which she put each into each of the little lockets we got at Bright’s this morning, twelve shillings each, for us always to wear under our clothes in mutual remembrance. We both kissed each bit of hair before it was put into the locket.12

  Mariana also bought Anne a wedding ring to bear witness to their new marriage. As they strolled around Manchester, however, it seemed to Anne as though Mariana was ashamed of her again. Mariana admitted she could not bear to have our connection known or suspected & conscience made her cowardly. She shrank from having the thing surmised now, but declared that if we were once fairly together, she should not care about it. I might tell our connection to all the world if I pleased. And so discord crept into their harmony at the end of the trip. On getting into bed last night, tried Mariana for a kiss but she was quite dry. Told her of it. She said I had set her wrong by being so queer while we were out. I said no more. Made no further attempt & we soon fell asleep. Awoke at two o’clock. A little play & two good kisses at once. [...] Awoke again at seven & then had three good ones all at once & she put the ring on & I promised not to take it off till Christmas. I may change my mind when I please. She will let me off whenever I like & when I wish it, I am merely to send her back the ring & she will understand me & give me no further trouble.13

  Mariana took this third set of vows made with Anne seriously. They were barely parted before she wrote her a long love letter. So long as life shall last, I will be your lover, friend, & your faithful wife. If I can be anything more, teach me what it is & that I will also be, with all the truth & power of one who lives for thee & thee only. [...] Yours and only yours let me always be. That is, so long as it makes you happy to have me so. But one minute beyond this, one moment beyond the time that you can give me yoursel
f in exchange & you shall hear of me no more. Yet I will never be another’s.14 Without Mariana physically by her side, however, Anne’s memories of her new old bride faded fast. Two tender letters from Maria Barlow in Paris made Anne doubt Mariana again. She is another man’s wife. I am solitary.15 To keep herself distracted, Anne took care of Shibden Hall, had trees felled and 2,500 oaks and 1,300 beeches planted. The future lady of the manor knew she had no time to lose with the trees if she wanted to benefit from them herself. Without informing her thrifty uncle, she bought three hundred more beeches at her own expense. She also had the old privy in the courtyard of Shibden Hall filled in and a new cabinet d’aisance built.

  Anne spent Christmas of 1825 at Langton Hall with Isabella and Charlotte Norcliffe, along with Mariana’s sister Harriet Milne. In the same place five years previously, Anne had flirted hard but without consequence with Mrs Milne, what with having her hands full at the time with Miss Vallance, Nantz Belcombe and Isabella Norcliffe. The last time they had seen each other, a year and a half previously, Anne once again enjoyed very flirting style of manner & conversation & some double entendre. Bad enough. She likes it. I feel no esteem for her & flirt & make a fool of her, & perhaps myself, too, for doing it.16 Now, Anne told Harriet on the day after her arrival she might succeed better than Mariana. She might manage me. Ladies always ruled, etc. Said how dangerous she was. She said she could excite the feelings of others & keep her own calm.17 After a walk in the Wolds together, I made absolute love. Said Mariana was not warm & nobody knew her better than I did. Mrs Milne was warmer. [...] Perhaps she, Mrs Milne would suit me better. At dinner she began pinching my feet upon which I became gradually empassioned. She saw this & went on, evidently pleased with the effect she produced, perfectly evident to, and understood by, her tho’ not by the rest. Tho’ Mrs Norcliffe kept talking to me, at last I got up & left the room. With Anne sleeping in Isabella’s room and Harriet in Charlotte’s, they got no further this time, either. As Anne was packing her things, Mrs Milne came for a moment. I kissed her. She said, ‘Don’t forget me. Say “I love you, Harriet.”’ ‘It is not love, it is adoration. But do you love me?’ ‘Yes. I do love you.’ ‘Well, don’t look cross at me the next time I see you.’ ‘How can you say so. You have me quite.’ She kissed me with open lips. I might have taken any liberty I pleased. ‘You have me.’ Yes, thought I. She would see us off & stood at the door in the cold.18