Gentleman Jack

by Katy Derbyshire

  Anne had to grit her teeth for a while longer, though, because after the trip to Ireland they visited Lawton Hall, Mariana’s home, where Anne had not been for ten years. Anne took the opportunity to quiz the servants. Charles as bad as ever out of doors. [...] Calling after women & talking to them. Uses very gross language. Said to have been, the other day, in the plantation with a low, bad woman. Will walk with any sort of trull. The Irishman who assaulted the dairymaid the other day declared all the servants were bad & he was not worse than his master. [...] Mariana will never end her days there. Her leaving Charles would not surprise any of them. As if to confirm the gossip, Charles secretly took Anne aside, led her to the gatehouse and showed her a little boy he said he had fathered with the gatekeeper’s wife, Mrs Grantham. Anne thought the boy sufficiently stupid-looking to be his son. Having not had any children with either of his wives, Charles did not want to officially acknowledge the child but he did not want to deny him either, and he asked Anne to tell Mariana so in confidence. Mariana was more horrified by talking about it than by the fact itself, something she had been expecting for years. She demanded absolute discretion from Charles – no wife would bear these things50 – and gave him such a talking to that he let her leave for Paris with Anne and her aunt without contradiction the next day.

  Maria

  1826–1827

  During the preparations for her long stay abroad, Anne had bombarded the pragmatic Maria Barlow with hundreds of questions. How much did it cost to hire horses from Calais to Paris? Was there an English doctor in Orléans? Could she get hold of a wheelchair for Aunt Anne? Maria took care of everything but kept her answers neutral. How can she be so cold so soon? Anne wondered, only to interpret Maria’s reserve as a tactical pretence: she is deep, she wants to catch me.1 Still, Anne thought, I must see her again. Let me try my regard for her – see how she looks & how she could please me now when Mariana is mistress of my thoughts & hopes.2 Anne neglected to tell Maria that she was bringing not only her aunt with her, but also Mariana Lawton.

  The group arrived in Paris on 2 September 1826; Maria had reserved hotel rooms for them. We had got into the Rue de Rivoli when Mariana saw a little figure in white dart out of the Hôtel de Terrasse and call out to the postboys to stop. Said Mariana, ‘Mrs Barlow.’ There was Jane, too. Mrs Barlow as pale as death. I felt a little less so. Jumped out of the carriage. Met her and introduced her to Aunt Anne. Her attention to my aunt unbounded. Evidently rather constrained to me & I to her. Mariana had come upstairs to our room & did not come down till Mrs Barlow was gone, who staid surely about ½ hour. I walked home with her & went upstairs into her salon for a few minutes. In crossing Tuileries gardens, mentioned Mariana’s being with us. Mrs Barlow agitated. Said I had behaved dishonestly not to tell her before. Should have written on purpose from London & she would have got out of the way – gone into the country. ‘And I have seen her,’ said she. ‘I took her for your lady’s maid & wondered to see another ugly woman stuck up behind’!!! I took no apparent notice of this splenetic, ill-judged speech. Instead, Anne told her it was not my fault Mariana was with us, etc. She would stay perhaps a few days – in fact, Mariana was to spend six weeks in Paris at Anne’s request. Eventually, Anne asked Maria for her help finding an apartment. ‘Why,’ said she peevishly, ‘should I settle Mrs Lawton?’ This struck me much.3

  Over the weeks that followed, Anne tried to make up with Maria and at the same time keep Mariana amused. Mariana had come to Paris to shop and Anne took her to all kinds of stores, which Mariana left kitted out with new hats, handbags, writing paper, tailored dresses and stays. At dinner on the third day, Anne said, ‘Perhaps I might go to Mrs Barlow,’ & this had spoiled poor Mariana’s appetite – but she would have me do whatever seemed best. Anne did not visit Maria until the next day, when she and Mariana were out apartment-hunting and passed the quai Voltaire, where Maria and Jane were still living. Anne claimed she just wanted to say hello and left Mariana with the concierge. Mariana waited for us patiently 55 minutes tho’ I had promised to stay only ¼ hour. She had been overwhelmed with miserable reflections – Mariana knew only too well what was possible with Anne in half an hour, or even in seven minutes if need be – but behaved beautifully.4

  Maria’s behaviour, however, was less to Anne’s taste. Anne tried to explain to her that Mariana was to remain her first wife, but Maria was welcome to be her wife number two again. I said I had done Mariana injustice – been mistaken about her – en revient toujours a ses premier amours [sic]. ‘Then,’ said Mrs Barlow, ‘you love her. You love another & you tell me so yourself. I did not think you could have so soon forgotten me & met me thus,’ etc., and we had a scene. At last I said I durst not presume to talk of love without her express permission under my present circumstances, which could not be changed, etc. She said she could permit it – it was different now after the manner in which we had lived together. ‘Well then,’ said I, ‘I love you as well as ever,’ & prest her hand. (Alas! I felt something like disgust.) She smiled as if she had gained a victory & I hurried off. At the hotel, I felt shocked as I returned, musing on what had passed. She will take me on any terms. Poor Mariana! I looked, she & my aunt said to each other, very ill. I daresay I was as white as a sheet.5

  Six days after their arrival, Anne, her aunt, Mariana and their servants moved into an airy and spacious apartment at 6, rue de Mondovi, close to the Tuileries. They were now paying less for accommodation than at the hotel, but eating out every day was expensive and Aunt Anne was still not stable on her feet. Anne soon had to dismiss a cook for financial reasons. Mariana and I went shopping, buying bread, butter, groceries – tiresome but necessary. What folly to have English servants. They can do nothing of this sort for you & ten times worse to provide for them yourselves! Anne could neither cook nor run a household – but Maria Barlow could. That gave Anne an idea: once Mariana had left, Maria could move in with them. But Mariana was against our having her here to keep house for us. Says she will never consent to it. My aunt thinks Mrs Barlow is trying to make up to her.6

  Anne had to admit that her efforts to coerce her various lovers into good relations with each other had been in vain on this occasion. Maria thought she is mine by right. Nobody – no married woman – can have so good a right to me as hers. Having run into Mariana by chance at church, she later caused quite a scene. Said I behaved ill to her – did not care for her – treated her with no respect – was a slave to ‘that creature’. I found fault with this manner of expression. Said my circumstances were fixed. [...] All this seemed to upset her. She cried. Sent me away then called me back. I was weary of her & really cared very little, except to be pothered & annoyed. Poor Mariana waiting – for an hour and a quarter in a nearby shop – very good-humouredly.7

  Mariana knew better than Maria that Anne would not be won over with accusations; that called for lenience and good temper. Anne showed her around Paris, they went to the theatre often, Mariana took embroidery classes and Anne went back to Mme de Galvani for French lessons. In the evenings they sat up, eating grapes and talking, as we generally do. They talked earnestly about Mariana’s leaving Charles. She has a sad dislike or misgiving about going back to Lawton. Thinks she cannot get over this business about Mrs Grantham – cannot stay.8 Anne felt sorry for Mariana but continued to persuade her to stay with Charles and wait for his death. If possible, she had best get the upper hand & stay it out. I would make myself happy & comfortable. It might make a difference of five hundred a year to us besides the additional respectability.9

  On 7 October Anne accompanied Mariana to Boulogne-sur-mer and handed her over to Charles. Anne stood on the pier and watched the ship sail. The sea was very rough & as I watched the vessel heave among the breakers my heart heaved with it & I hoped Mariana & I would never meet to part again.10

  Back in Paris, Anne immediately resumed her affair with Maria Barlow. Mariana had agreed that I should try whether she would really take me on any terms or not. If she would, I would be shocke
d & be off. If she would not, of course I should stand excused from lovemaking scenes.11 Maria did not say no, and Anne was not shocked and did not make off. Mariana need never know.

  Originally, Anne and her aunt had planned to spend the winter on the Mediterranean, but Aunt Anne was too unwell to travel. In January of 1827 they took a smaller, cheaper apartment on Place neuve de la Madelaine. Having forged a close friendship with the building’s live-in owners, the lively Séné family, Aunt Anne did not want to move on in the spring either, especially because she felt well looked after by her English physician, Dr Scudamore, and their household problems had calmed down, thanks to Maria Barlow’s laundrywoman and her butter and vegetable suppliers. She therefore encouraged her niece to go on a long trip without her. Anne asked Maria Barlow along, who was happy to accompany her to Switzerland and northern Italy, with Jane. As Aunt Anne needed the servants George Playforth and MacDonald more urgently, her own carriage had to stay in Paris.

  In beautiful summer weather, Anne, Maria and Jane set out by post coach on 15 June 1827. Via Nancy, they reached Strasbourg where visitors were still allowed to climb the cathedral tower to the top: at that point the view is magnificent – worth all the trouble – the Rhine, the mountains of France and Germany. [...] We crossed the famous quarter-of-a-mile-long bridge of boats over the Rhine, and sat an hour in a German cottage at the picturesque extremity of the town of Kehl, where we had sourish cream and German bread. The Rhine at Kehl is a magnificent river – its waters were turbid from the great quantity of rain that had fallen in the mountains; its current rapid as in Caesar’s time. They continued via Colmar to Basle, where Anne initially felt she never was more comfortable at any Inn in my life. My room is on two sides surrounded by the Rhine. We are a little way from the wooden bridge that connects the great and little Basle.12 Then, however, the vicinity to the polluted water caused the worst diarrhoea in her life.

  In Basle, Anne met a coachman from Berne who was waiting for travellers to his hometown. Anne, Maria and Jane went on a day’s excursion to test out his carriage, including two horses, and then rented it for a good price for an undetermined period – the only thing important for him was that they ended up in Berne. And so Anne did get her trip in her own ‘caravan’ in the end. From Basle, they went on to Baden, where Anne was reluctant to leave the warm spa water in her private bathing cabinet. In Schaffhausen, they admired the falls of the Rhine. It was worth to travel all the way from Paris. She adored Lake Constance and the surrounding area too; literally, our eyes are always more tired than our legs. The scene changed almost at every step, that our visionary powers have, absolutely, no rest. In Constance the people seem to meet together, all hereabouts, to sing, in an evening, and really sing, all in concert, very well. They could not understand a thing, with Maria speaking as little German as Anne, who had never got further than flicking through her grammar book.

  The three women gained their first impressions of the Alps on their way through the Swiss canton of Graubünden to Italy. From Coire, the celebrated Via Mala having even surpassed our expectations, they spent a night in Splügen among the snow-mountains and between walls of snow twelve or fifteen feet high, crossed the Splügen mountain [...] and descended by one of the most frightfully magnificent roads in Europe into the fine valley of Chiavenna.13 Via Lake Como, Bormio, Merano and Bolzano, they arrived in Verona, the Roman arena of which thrilled Anne, a fan of all things Latin. After a day trip to Lake Garda, they continued via Vicenza and Padua to Venice.

  In Italy, tensions among the party became palpable. Like Mariana Lawton, Maria Barlow had grown embarrassed by the clothes Anne wore on their travels, which she considered unkempt and shabby. Anne spent hours of every evening writing her impressions of the day in her diary instead of discussing them with her travelling companion, who felt rejected. Besides which, Maria was not in good physical condition. She had been suffering from cystitis since the crossing to Tyrol, where they had almost got stuck in the snow on the pass and had to spend an ice-cold night in a mountain cabin. In Italy, the heat was too much for her. With her enthusiasm for adventure, Anne felt held back by Maria. Whenever Maria wanted to stay in a beautiful spot for a while, Anne shooed her onwards. They continued to Milan via Este, Mantua and Cremona. Lugano and Lago Maggiore were ticked off the list before they headed back to Switzerland via the Simplon Pass. At Lake Geneva, they strolled in Lord Byron’s footsteps and then went on to Chamonix, to climb the Mer de Glace, the largest glacier on Mont Blanc. They stayed a night at the travellers’ hospice on the Great Saint Bernard Pass, where Anne went walking alone, got lost in the descending darkness and would not have found her way out of the snow if the Saint Bernard dogs hadn’t barked at the sound of her calls, guiding her way back.

  Impressed by the Alps, Anne persuaded Maria and Jane to conclude the trip with an extended mountain tour. In Berne – surely the prettiest town in Europe14 – they took leave of their coachman and took a new guide, who arranged a two-week hiking tour of the Bernese Highlands around the Jungfrau Massif. They sent their heavy luggage ahead from Kandersteg to Interlaken. Three mountain guides brought Anne (on foot) and Maria and Jane (on mules) via Andermatt, Grindelwald and Wengen to Lake Thun and Lake Brienz. For Anne, this hike through the Alps, with its physical exertion during the day and simple mountain cabins by night, became the highlight of the trip. Jane, on the other hand, was tired of mountains.15

  They returned to Paris via Lucerne and Zurich, Geneva and Lyon, arriving back on 24 October.

  There, they found Aunt Anne hale and hearty in the company of Isabella Norcliffe, who had used Anne’s room, taken her aunt on plenty of outings, and told her all the latest Yorkshire gossip. She left again on 12 November, along with her cat, which she had brought with her all the way from Langton Hall. However, Aunt Anne did not yet want to return home, so Anne could look forward to another winter in Paris.

  She did not wish to spend it with Maria, however. The long tour had driven a wedge between them. Anne also found her lacking in éclat, social standing and wealth. Anne had reached the wrong side of 3016 and would have to pick up the pace if she wanted to catch herself a suitably rich aristocratic woman who would satisfy her needs in romantic, sexual, pecuniary and social terms. The young widow Mme de Rosny had much of what Anne desired: youth, beauty and connections to the French court. At the beginning of 1828, Anne left her aunt alone in the apartment on Place neuve de la Madelaine and moved in with her new lover – allegedly to perfect her French. In all other areas, however, Mme de Rosny turned out to be as much of a disappointment as her predecessors. As Anne had not had her own coming-out at the English court, she could not be received by the French royal family, despite all Mme de Rosny’s connections. And she too was short on money; she probably lived on the commissions she charged for arranging smuggling deals to England. Rather than losing more precious time with Mme de Rosny, Anne decided to visit an old friend in Scotland, Sibella Maclean. Having to see to things at Shibden Hall as well, she entrusted Aunt Anne to the care of Maria Barlow and left Paris on 17 March 1828.

  Her first stop on the way north was Lawton Hall. On her last farewell from Mariana, a year and a half previously, Anne had wished she would never have to part from Mariana again. Now, matters looked different; her manner was warmer than mine. I said I was harassed tho’ in fact I felt more as if I had been so long absent from Mariana I did not know what to do with her. She looked tall and big. She seemed to have grown taller. I felt awkward & said to myself, ‘Why, what have I to do with having such a woman?’ 17 As always, they slept together.

  Sibella

  1828–1829

  Back at Shibden Hall, Anne found the house and grounds badly kept. Paths were overgrown, walls had collapsed, hedges were untrimmed – even though Jeremy and Marian had moved in partly to prevent the house from falling into neglect. Yet even inside the house, a rotten staircase had not been repaired, and Anne could tell the carpets had not been beaten since her departure almost two years earlier. S
he took care of everything immediately, with her characteristic energy. She also found a tenant for Northgate House, the lawyer Mr Scratcherd and his family, and negotiated the sale of part of the large Northgate grounds for the construction of a new church, as growing Halifax now had some 18,000 inhabitants. The sale brought her £711, most welcome in a financially difficult year in which Aunt Anne still had to pay the rent for the Parisian apartment.

  Anne had barely seen to the necessary chores in and around Shibden Hall before she set off for Scotland to see Sibella Maclean, the daughter of the fifteenth Laird of Coll, an island in the Inner Hebrides. Anne had met Sibella eight years previously, in 1820, at a gathering in York. On catching the first glimpse of you, Bless me! Who’s that? She’s an elegant looking creature! 1 What attracted Anne was Sibella’s ancient aristocratic provenance, which she felt was reflected in her outward appearance. With all your shyness, (not too much), there is a look that looks ‘the chieftain’s daughter’.2 Anne thought Miss Maclean one of the most ladylike, pleasing women I ever met with in my life. I have seldom seen manners that I prefer; and, when seated at the head of her own table, she is perfect.3 Anne could well imagine such a woman at the head of her table. I would rather spend my life with Miss Maclean than any one.4

  In the years since 1820, Anne had renewed her vows with Mariana three times, seduced Miss Vallance and Nantz Belcombe, slept countless times with Isabella Norcliffe, flirted with Harriet Milne, Lou Belcombe and Francis Pickford, spent a long time living in Paris with Maria Barlow and then a few weeks with Mme de Rosny. During all these entanglements, Sibella Maclean had been an iron in the fire that Anne Lister sought to heat up from a distance, to forge and shape to her will. In numerous wordy letters, she never told Sibella what she was doing – or with whom – instead trying to initiate a flirt by means of complex rhetorical figures.