Strictures on change of manners—Moral influence of dress—The three beauties—Curious trial respecting Lady M———Termination favourable to her Ladyship—Interesting and affecting incidents of that lady’s life—Sir R—— M——, his character, and cruelty—Lady M—— married against her will—Quits her husband—Returns—Sir R. mistakes her for a rebel in his sleep, and nearly strangles her.

It is singular enough, but at the same time true, that female beauty has of late years kept pace in improvement with modern accomplishments. She who in the early part of my life would have been accounted a perfect beauty,—and whose touch upon a harpsichord or spinnet, accompanied by a simple air sung with what they then called “judgment,” (in tune,) would have constituted her a syren as well as a Venus, would now be passed by merely as “a pretty girl, but such a confounded bore with her music!” In fact, women fifty years since (and much later) not being, generally speaking, thrust into society till they had arrived at the age of maturity, were more respected, more beloved, and more sedulously attended than in these days, when the men seem to have usurped the ladies’ corsets, to affect their voices, practise their gait, imitate their small-talk, and, in surtouts and trowsers, hustle ladies off the foot-paths, to save their own dog-skins from humidity.

This degradation of both sexes has arisen from various causes. Beauty is now less rare, accomplishments more common, dress less distinguished, dignity worse preserved, and decorum less attended to, than in former times. It is a great mistake in women not to recollect their own importance, and keep up that just medium between reserve and familiarity which constitutes the best criterion whereby to appreciate the manners of a gentlewoman. But women are too apt to run into extremes in every thing; and overlook the fact, that neither personal beauty nor drawing-room display are calculated to form permanent attractions, even to the most adoring lover.—The breakfast-table in the morning, and fire-side in the evening, must be the ultimate touch-stones of connubial comfort; and this is a maxim which any woman who intends to marry should never lose sight of.

To such lengths did respect for the fair sex extend, and so strong was the impression formerly that men were bound to protect it even from accidental offence, that I remember the time, (indeed I witnessed two instances,) when, if any gentleman presumed to pass between a lady and the wall in walking the streets of Dublin, he was considered as offering a personal affront to her escort; and if the parties wore swords, (as was then customary,) it is probable the first salutation to the offender would be—“Draw, sir!” However, such affairs usually ended in an apology to the lady for inadvertence, scarcely ever proceeding to extremities unless the offence was premeditated.

But if a man ventured to intrude into the boxes of the theatre in his surtout, or boots, or with his hat on, it was regarded as a general insult to every lady present, and he had little chance of escaping without a shot or a thrust before the following night. Every gentleman then wore in the evening a sword, a queue, and a three-cocked hat—appointments rather too fierce-looking for the modern dandy! whilst the morning dress consisted of what was then called a French frock, (having no skirt-pockets,) a waistcoat bordered with lace, velvet or silk breeches, silk stockings, pumps, and a couteau de chasse, with a short, curved broad blade—the handle of green ivory, with a lion’s head in silver or gilt at the end, and a treble chain dangling loose from its mouth, terminating at an ornamented cross or guard, which surmounted the green scabbard. Such was the costume: but although either the male or female attire of that day might now appear rather grotesque, yet people of fashion had then the exclusive dress and air of such, and ladies ran no risk of being copied in garb or manner, or rivalled, perhaps surpassed, by their pretty waiting-maids—now called “young persons!”—who not unfrequently first ape, then traduce, and next supplant, their mistresses. The nice young governesses also, (of twenty,) now selected to instruct young ladies of seventeen, present a modern system of education to which, I believe, Doctors Commons is under obligation.

The Irish court at that period was kept up with great state, and hence the parties who frequented it were more select. I recollect when the wives and daughters of attorneys (who now, I believe, are the general occupiers of the red benches, then solely the seats of nobles) were never admitted to the viceregal drawing-rooms. How far the present growing system of equality in appearance among different ranks will eventually benefit or injure society in general, is for casuists, not for me, to determine. I must, however, take occasion to own myself an admirer, and (whenever it is proper) a zealous contender for distinction of ranks; and to state my decided opinion, that superior talents, learning, military reputation, or some other quality which raises men by general assent, should alone be permitted to amalgamate common with high society. Nature, by conferring talent, points out those whom she intended to distinguish: but “free agency” too frequently counteracts the intention of Nature, and great talent is often overpowered, and lost in a crowd of inferior propensities.

It is an observation I have always made, (although it may be perhaps considered a frivolous one,) that dress has a moral effect upon the conduct of mankind. Let any gentleman find himself with dirty boots, old surtout, soiled neckcloth, and a general negligence of dress, he will, in all probability, find a corresponding disposition to negligence of address. He may, en deshabille, curse and swear, speak roughly and think coarsely: but put the same man into full dress; powder, or at least curl him well, clap a sword by his side, and give him an evening coat, waistcoat, breeches, and silk stockings, lace ruffles and a chapeau bras, and he will feel himself quite another person!—To use the language of the blackguard would then be out of character: he will talk smoothly, affect politeness if he has it not, pique himself upon good manners, and respect the women: nor will the spell subside until, returning home, the old robe de chambre (or its substitute surtout), the heelless slippers, with other slovenly appendages, make him lose again his brief consciousness of being a gentleman!

Some women mistake the very nature and purposes of dress: glaring abroad, they are slatterns at home. The husband detests in his sposa what he is too apt to practise himself: he rates a dirty wife; she retorts upon a filthy husband, and each of them detests the other for that neglect of person which neither will take the trouble of avoiding, except to encounter strangers.

Two ladies, about the period of my entrance into public life, and another some time after, became very conspicuous for their beauty, though extremely different in all points both of appearance and manners. They still live:—two of them I greatly admired—not for beauty alone, but for an address the most captivating; and one of these, especially, for the kindest heart and the soundest sense, when she gave it fair play, that I have (often) met with amongst females.

In admitting my great preference for this individual lady, I may, perhaps, be accused of partiality, less to herself than to a family:—be it so!—she was the wife of my friend, and I esteem her for his sake: but she is an excellent woman, and I esteem the Honourable Mrs. C. Hutchinson also for her own.

Another of the ladies alluded to, Lady M—, is a gentlewoman of high birth, and was then, though not quite a beauty, in all points attractive: indeed, her entire person was symmetrical and graceful. She passed her spring in misfortune—her summer in misery—her autumn without happiness!—but I hope the winter of her days is spent amidst every comfort. Of the third lady I have not yet spoken:—though far inferior to both the former, she has succeeded better in life than either; and, beginning the world without any pretensions beyond mediocrity, is likely to end her days in ease and more than ordinary respectability.

My first knowledge of Lady M— arose from a circumstance which was to me of singular professional advantage; and, as it forms a curious anecdote, I will proceed to relate it.

At the assizes of Wexford, while I was but young at the bar, I received a brief in a cause of Sir R—— M——, Bart., against a Mr. H——. On perusal, I found it was an action brought by the baronet against the latter gentleman respecting his lady, and that I was retained as advocate for the lady’s honour. It was my “first appearance” in that town. But, alas! I had a senior in the business; and therefore was without opportunity of attempting any display. The ill-fated Bagenal Harvey^[30] was that senior counsel, and he had prepared himself to make some exhibition in a cause of so much and such universal excitement. I felt dispirited, and would willingly have given up twenty fees to possess his opportunity.

The cause proceeded before Judge Kelly: the evidence of Sir R—— M—— was finished, and the proper time for the defence had arrived; every thing as to the lady was at stake. Bagenal Harvey had gone out to take fresh air, and probably to read over some notes, or con some florid sentences and quotations with which he intended to interlard his elocution. At the moment the evidence closed the judge desired me to proceed. I replied, that Mr. Harvey, my senior, would return into court directly.

Judge Kelly, who was my friend, said he would not delay public business one minute for anybody; and, by a sort of instinct, or rather impulse,—I cannot indeed exactly say what it was, but certainly it was totally impromptu,—I began to state her ladyship’s case. I always had words enough at command: the evidence afforded sufficient material for their exercise; and, in fact, being roused by the cause into a sort of knight-errantry, I felt myself completely identified with it. If I should succeed, it would greatly serve me. I forgot poor Bagenal Harvey, and was just getting into the marrow and pathos of my case, when the crier shouted out “Clear the way for Counsellor Harvey!” Bagenal came in, puffing and blowing, and struggling through the crowd—scarcely able to command utterance. I instantly stopped, and begged his pardon, adding that the judge had said the public time could wait for nobody! “So,” continued I, “let me just show you where I left off! (turning over the leaves of my brief:)—there, begin there—it will be useless to repeat what I have already said; so begin there.” A loud laugh succeeded.

Bagenal, though generally very good-tempered, became irritated as much as he was susceptible of being, and whispered me that he considered it a personal insult: while old Judge Kelly gravely said, “Go on, Mr. Barrington, go on! we can have no speeches by dividends: go on, sir!” So on I went, and I believe, (because every body told me so,) that my impromptu speech was entirely successful. I discredited the witnesses by ridicule, destroyed all sympathy with the husband, and interested every body for the wife. In short, I got the judge and jury into good-humour. Yet, I know not that I should have ensured a verdict, had not a certain point of law, which I believe was then started for the first time, occurred to me; and which, though rational in itself, and on that trial recognised by the judge, has since been overruled in terms, though it stands in substance;—namely, if a husband cannot truly aver that he has sustained mental injury by the loss of that comfort arising from the society of a wife, it is anomalous to say he has any claim to damages; and this averment can scarcely be made where the parties have been separated voluntarily and completely for years.^[31]

The judge, the kindest-hearted man living, chuckled at this new point. The jury, who did not much admire the plaintiff, were quite pleased with my suggestion; and after the judge had given his charge, in a few minutes, to the utter discomfiture of the baronet, there was a verdict against him! His lips quivered; he stood pale and trembling with anger; and subsequently quitted the town with the utmost expedition.

Some time after, a complete reconciliation took place between the parties, so far that her ladyship consented to live with him again—influenced much, I rather think, by having suffered great inconvenience, if not distress, from want of regularity in the receipt of her separate maintenance of 700l. per annum. I had the pleasure of meeting her frequently afterwards at the lady lieutenant’s parties.

The conclusion of the renewed intercourse is too curious to be omitted. Sir R—— had taken a house in Nassau Street, in the city of Dublin; and it was thought possible that he and his wife might, at any rate, pass some time under the same roof: but fate decided otherwise.

Sir R—— was literally insane on all political subjects, his imagination being occupied, night and day, with nothing but papists, jesuits, popes, priests, and rebels. Once in the dead of the night his lady was awakened by a sense of positive suffocation, and rousing herself, found that Sir R—— was in the very act of strangling her!—He had grasped her by the throat with all his might, and, muttering heavy imprecations, had nearly succeeded in his diabolical attempt.—She struggled, and at length extricated herself from his grasp; upon which he roared out, making a fresh effort—“You infernal papist rebel! you United Irishman! You eternal villain! I’ll never part from you alive, if you don’t come quietly to the guard-house!”

In fact this crazy Orange-man had in his dream fancied that he was contesting with a rebel, whom he had better choke than suffer to escape, and poor Lady M—— was nearly sacrificed to his excess of loyalty. In her robe de chambre and slippers she contrived to get out of the house, and never more ventured to return, as she now clearly perceived that even her personal safety could not be calculated on in her husband’s society.

I have in another work given a full character of Sir R—— M——, and stated my opinion of his worse than mischievous history of Ireland. One more anecdote of him, and I have done.

Whilst he was high sheriff for the county of Waterford, an old man was sentenced to be whipped at the cart’s tail for some political offence; when, the executioner not being in readiness, the high sheriff,—a baronet and member of Parliament,—took up the cat-o’-nine-tails, ordered the cart to move on slowly, and operated himself with admirable expertness, but much greater severity than the hangman would have used!—Thus did he proceed to whip the old man through the streets of the city; and when the extreme point was reached, the sentence executed, and he was scarcely able to raise his arm, he publicly regretted he had not a little farther to go!

Lady M—— was, in her own right, entitled to a fortune of 15,000l., to be paid only on her marriage. Her father, a gentleman of rank and estate, had by some mismanagement in office become extremely embarrassed. Sir R— M—, a man of family, but whose fortune was not large, cast his eye on her beauty—not totally overlooking her property. His taste was indisputably good; the lady being, at that period, every thing that could be desired! She possessed an ardent mind, great constitutional gaiety, and a sensitive heart;—to which were added a most engaging figure and a lovely and expressive countenance. Her father she loved dearly; and for his unhappy circumstances, therefore, her heart bled; but Sir R— M— could make no impression upon it. On the contrary, he excited her aversion.—Thus her affections being unattainable, the baronet resolved, if possible, to purchase her hand, leaving her heart to some future opportunity! Hence commences the affecting narrative of her ladyship’s wrongs and misfortunes, related to me by herself, almost unconsciously, in broken fragments, and at several times.

“I was not aware (said she) what caused my dear father’s obvious unhappiness, and often was I surprised at the pertinacity with which he pressed the baronet upon my consideration. I rejected him over and over again; still his suit was renewed, still my father appeared more anxious on his behalf, whilst my mother seconded their wishes.—My aversion increased; yet Sir R— M—’s assiduities were redoubled with his repulses; and at length I contemplated the leaving my father’s house, if I were longer persecuted by these addresses.

“Though young, I knew the failing of my own character, which possessed not sufficient resolution to oppose its constitutional tendencies. Nature had formed me for all the pleasures and the pains which are alike inseparable from sensibility. I found a glow in every thought—an enthusiasm in every action. My feelings were always in earnest. I could love to excess, and hate to rancour! but I could do neither with mediocrity. I could be the best or the worst of wives. I could endure any thing with a man I loved, but could not sit upon a throne with one whom I detested.

“At length, I discovered the whole of my father’s more than pressing embarrassments; and understood that Sir R— M— had agreed to give up to him a considerable portion of my fortune if our marriage was effected. This shock to such a disposition as mine was cruel; and the dilemma was distracting: it involved my father’s comforts—or my own misery!

“Often, as we sat at our family repasts, have I perceived that dear parent lay down the fork he was conveying to his lips, and turn away to conceal the agitation of mind which might have betrayed to us that distress he was endeavouring to conceal.

“Gradually, I found that filial affection was taking the strongest hold of me. I thought I could endure unhappiness myself, but I could not bear to see my father miserable. I weighed the consequences, and reasoned so far as I possessed the faculty of reasoning. I saw his ruin or my own was inevitable!

“The struggle was, indeed, sharp—it was long—it was very painful: but at length filial piety prevailed over self; and I determined upon making the sacrifice. I communicated to my father my decision to admit the addresses of Sir R— M—, without hinting at my true reasons; but, at the same moment, I felt an indescribable change of character commence, which, from that sad period, has more or less affected every action of my life. I felt a sort of harsh sensation arise within my mind, and operate upon my temper, to which they had previously been strangers. My spirits flagged,—all pleasures grew insipid; and I perceived that the ice of indifference was chilling the sensibility of my nature.

“From the moment of my assent, my father’s disposition seemed to have undergone almost as radical a change as my own. He became once more cheerful, and I had at least the gratification of reflecting that, if I were myself lost, I had saved a parent! But I must remark that it was not so as to my mother—who, indeed, had not been kind to me.

“In due time the settlements were prepared, and my fortune, I learnt, secretly divided. The ceremony was about to be performed, and Sir R— M— at that very hour appeared to me to be the most disagreeable of mankind. There was a sort of uncouth civility—an abrupt, fiery, coarse expression, even in his most conciliating manners, which seemed to set all feelings of respect or cordiality at defiance. As to love, he was not susceptible of the passion; whilst I was created to enjoy its tenderest blessings. He was half mad by nature;—I had become so from misery! and in this state of mind we met to be united at the altar! I was determined, however, that he should learn by anticipation what he had to expect from me as a wife. ‘Sir R— M—, (said I to him,) I am resolved to give you the last proof you will ever receive of my candour. I accept you, not only as a husband whom I never can love, and never will obey, but whom I absolutely detest!—now marry me at your peril, and take the consequences!’—He laughed convulsively, took me by the hand, and having led me into the next room, that ceremony was performed to which I should have thought a sentence of death preferable. The moment we were united I retired to my chamber, where tears, flowing in torrents, cooled my heated feelings. My purpose in marrying was effected: I therefore determined that (if possible) I never would live an hour in his society, and it was two months before my ill-fated stars compelled me to become the actual wife of the most unfeeling and abominable of fanatics.

“Our residence together of course was short, and at twenty-one I was thrown upon the world, to avoid my husband’s society. Being possessed of sufficient means, I travelled; and for the fourteen years of our separation my whole time was an unnatural and continued strife between passion and propriety. On a late occasion, you were my counsel, and from you nothing has been concealed. You did me more than justice—you have defeated him, and preserved me!”

I have not seen her ladyship for these many years; but never did I meet with one whom I conceived to be more completely thrown away, or whose natural disposition seemed better calculated to lead to her own happiness and to the happiness of those within her sphere of influence. I speak of her as she was when I knew her; and I have no reason to alter my impressions. Her father, mother, and husband, are all gone: how she is situated with regard to her surviving connexions, I know not.