Part 21 (1/2)

Whosoever thou art, whose eyes drink in this sad and moving tale, indulge one tear. Remember the instability of sublunary things, and judge no man happy till he dies.

APPENDIX IV.

MISS MARY BLAND'S OWN ACCOUNT OF THE AFFAIR BETWEEN HER AND MR.

CRANSTOUN, FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THEIR ACQUAINTANCE IN THE YEAR 1746 TO THE DEATH OF HER FATHER IN AUGUST, 1751, WITH ALL THE CIRc.u.mSTANCES LEADING TO THAT UNHAPPY EVENT.

(No. 8 of Bibliography, Appendix XII.)

My acquaintance with Mr. Cranstoun, who was lieutenant of a regiment of marines, commenced at Lord Mark Kerr's,[23] in one of the summer months, as I at present apprehend, of the year 1746. At first we entertained of each other only sentiments of friends.h.i.+p, I being upon the point of marrying another gentleman; which, for some prudential reasons, was soon put off, and at last came to nothing. Some months after our first interview, Mr. Cranstoun left Henley; and, about the following summer, returned to his uncle, Lord Mark Kerr, who lived at a house he had hired in that town, called Paradise. After his arrival at Henley, our friends.h.i.+p continued for some time; in one part of which I told him, as a friend that wished me well, of another advantageous match that had been proposed to me; but at the same time declared to him, that I was afraid the gentleman was not formed to make me happy.

Upon this, he asked me, ”whether or not I preferred mutual love to the grandeur of life?” To which I replied, ”I preferred the man I loved and esteemed to all others.” This induced him to make a proposal to me in the following terms: ”Miss Blandy, I have upon my hands an unhappy affair, which to you I have made no secret of; I can a.s.sure you, before I speak what follows, I am not now married, nor never was; tho'

by the nature of the Laws of Scotland, I am involved in some difficulties brought upon me by that affair, out of which it will be some time before I can extricate myself. Do you think you could love a man well enough to stay till this affair be brought to a determination? I have, added he, wished such a proposal might take effect from the very first moment that I saw you; but my honour would not permit me to make it in form, till the invalidity of my pretended marriage did appear to the whole world.” To this I made no reply, as Lord Mark Kerr at that instant came into the garden; Mr. Cranstoun and I being then at his house. The next day Mr. Cranstoun came to my father's, and renewed the discourse; on which I told him, that ”if my Papa and Mamma would approve of my staying for him, I readily consented thereto.” After this he took the first opportunity of speaking to my Mamma upon the same subject; and he received from her the following answer: ”Sir, you do my daughter an honour; but I have understood, that you have a perplexing affair upon your hands, and it is reported that you are married.” He then made answer, ”Madam, as I have a soul to be saved, I am not, nor ever was.” To which she replied: ”Very well, Mr. Cranstoun, I will take your word as to that; but I have many more reasons to give you why I disapprove of your proposal. In the first place, you are a man of fas.h.i.+on., and I believe your fortune small; my daughter has been brought up with great rare and tenderness, and as neither of you seem to me cut out to live upon a small fortune, you would both like to live in a manner suitable to your station.” To which she added, ”I can a.s.sure you, Mr. Cranstoun, had my daughter 10,000 and in my disposal, I would give her to you with the greatest pleasure. There is one thing, continued she, I think, Mr. Cranstoun, I ought to inform you of. Notwithstanding the world reports Mr. Blandy to be able to give his daughter down a handsome fortune, I am sure he cannot do it; tho' I was ever made a stranger to his circ.u.mstances.” To which he replied, ”If Mr. Blandy will give me his daughter, I shall not trouble him about that.” This, as far as I can recollect, is the substance of what pa.s.sed on Mr.

Cranstoun's first making his addresses to me.

After the last conference, my mamma and Mr. Cranstoun had several others to the same effect; the last of which was followed by Mr.

Cranstoun's journey to Bath. He attended his uncle. Lord Mark Kerr, thither; but before he left Henley, he obtained my father's leave to correspond with me. He went to Bath, if my memory fails me not, in the latter season of the year 1747; after I had been above a year acquainted with him. He staid at Bath about five or six weeks; and, after his return to Henley, lived at our house, with my father's and mother's approbation, five or six months. At the end of this term, he went up to town; and, within a few days after his arrival there, wrote to my father, to beg; the favour of him to comply with his request, that I might be permitted to stay for him till his unhappy affair with Miss Murray (for so was his supposed wife called) was finally determined. This, he said, he was a.s.sured, by the best judges, must end in a little time with certain success: which, as he added, would make him the happiest man living; and he doubted not but he should communicate the same degree of happiness to me, by the tender treatment I should meet with from him. My father gave the letter to me with a smile, and told me, ”that was a letter which he believed I should read with some pleasure.” After I had read it, I said, ”What will you answer it, sir?”' To which he replied, ”Not at all.” Upon this, looking earnestly at him, said, ”Not at all, papa?” ”No,”

replied he, ”you shall answer it yourself.” ”In what manner, sir?”

subjoined I. ”As,” returned he, ”is most agreeable to you.” To which, however, he thought fit to add, ”Tho' I give you leave in this manner, yet if you are prudent you will not think of having a man of quality without any fortune, when you may marry a man with a very ample one, of as good a gentleman's family as any in England: But, continued he, if you can be contented, I'll do what I can to make you happy with him. I believe he loves you, and mutual love must make the marriage-state happy.” Mr. Blunt, the owner or proprietor of Paradise, the house inhabited by Lord Mark Kerr, was then at my father's, and knew, if I am not mistaken, from whom the letter came. Be that as it will, no more pa.s.sed on this subject at that time. The next post I informed Mr. Cranstoun, that ”My papa had given me leave to write to him whatever I pleased; in consequence of which I should take the liberty to a.s.sure him, that I would stay for him, and accept of no other offer till his affair was brought to a decision; and that if it was not determined in his favour, I doubted whether I should accept of any ever after.” Tho' I did not see Mr. Cranstoun for several months, our correspondence still continued; letters pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing between us almost every post.

During this interval, my mamma went to a place called Turville Court, to the house of one Mrs. Poc.o.c.k; where she was seized with a disorder, that it was thought would have proved fatal to her. Through the whole course of her illness, when in her senses, she constantly cried out, ”Let Cranstoun be sent for:” On which, I at last sent for him. He was then at Southampton; which, by the miscarriage of one of his letters, I was ignorant of. But the very night he reached London, he set out for Turville Court, and arrived there about ten o'clock at night. As soon as he came to Mrs. Poc.o.c.k's house, he was instantly taken up into my mother's chamber, which greatly refreshed and revived her; for she immediately raised herself up in bed, took him about the neck, and kissed him in the most affectionate manner. At the same time, she said, ”My dear Cranstoun, I am glad you are come; I now shall grow well soon.” Nor would she take any medicines, but from his hand, saying, ”My poor nurse must not be jealous (meaning her daughter) since loving him I knew is pleasing her.” The next day she got up, and sent for Mr. Cranstoun into her room; saying, ”This I owe to you, my dear Cranstoun; your coming has given me new health and fresh spirits: I was fearful lest I should die, and you not here to comfort that poor girl, how like death she looks!” My father came thither that day to see his spouse, and took Mr. Cranstoun, who met him in the hall, up in his arms, saying, ”I am glad to see you here, how does my wife?” Upon Mr. Cranstoun's telling him, ”she was much better, and up,” he said, smiling, ”I suppose they will both of them (meaning his wife and daughter) be much better, now you are come.” My father seemed in great good humour all that day. The next time he came (for he returned home at night) he appeared much out of humour at the great expence incurred by my mother on the foregoing occasion, and desired her to think of removing to her own house; since in that case, neither the physician's fees nor the apothecary's journeys could be so expensive. But she was too weak to be removed immediately. However, in a short time, she returned home, in company with myself and Mr. Cranstoun, who, with my father and mother's approbation, resided with us above six months.

During which interval, my father was sometimes extremely kind, and sometimes very rude to Mr. Cranstoun, as well as very harsh, to his daughter. I observed, that this rudeness and harshness generally appeared after he had been in company with some persons, and particularly one hereafter mentioned, who were known not to approve of my marriage with Mr. Cranstoun. My father also frequently made my mother very uneasy, on account of her approbation of that marriage; tho' he always declared, that he thought Mr. Cranstoun a most agreeable man. Whilst he was last at my father's house, the regiment of marines to which he belonged was broke at Southampton; which obliged him to go thither: But he did not stay there above two or three days; and upon his return to Henley, was received by my father with great tenderness, who told him, that ”as he was now broke, he supposed his cash, would run low; and that therefore he was welcome to stay with him.” This happening in my presence, I went up to my father kissed him, and said, ”Sir, I shall never forget this goodness.” Mr. Cranstoun having lost his post in the regiment of marines, did not remain long in Henley; but set out soon for London, where he made a pretty, considerable stay. We kept up, however, our correspondence, as usual in times of absence, he writing to me almost every post.

A few months after Mr. Cranstoun's return from Southampton, my mother went up to London, in order to ask advice for a complaint in her breast, and took me along with her. Upon our arrival there, we went to her brother's, Mr. Henry Steven's, in Doctors' Commons, where we resided all the time we remained in town. I had before apprized Mr Cranstoun of our intended journey; and he waited upon me the next morning after our arrival at my uncle's. Hither he came every day to visit me, whilst we stayed in London. Once he brought his brother, the Lord Cranstoun, with him, who was then just married. One of Mr.

Cranstoun's visits happening a little before dinner, my mother asked her brother, Mr. Henry Stevens, to invite him to dinner; but this favour was refused her: On which, coming into the dining-room, wh.o.r.e she found me and Mr. Cranstoun, she took him by the hand, and burst into tears, saying, ”My dear Mr. Cranstoun, I am sorry you should be so affronted by any of my family, but I dare not ask you to stay to dinner. However, continued she, come to me as often as you can in my own apartment; in a morning I am always alone.” To this Mr. Cranstoun made answer, ”My dear mamma, don't be uneasy--I don't come for the sake of them, but of you and your daughter. And let him put on never so terrible a face, he shall not keep me from you.” At this time Mrs.

Foc.o.c.k was in town, and had a house in St. James's Square, to which I used to go most days. Hither Mr. Cranstoun perpetually came, when he understood that I was here; and that with my father's, who arrived in town after we had reached it, and mother's consent. Mrs. Poc.o.c.k often asked my father, whilst in London, to make one of the party. But he answered her, ”You keep such quality hours, as neither agree with my health, nor suit my business; however, you will have two parts of me, my wife and my daughter.” ”Yes,” replied Mrs. Poc.o.c.k, ”and not only these two, but likewise another bit of you, which will be coming soon.” At this he smiled, and said, ”What, Cranstoun! a little bit, indeed, I think! They are very well matched--I was surprised not to find him here--I thought they could not have been so long asunder.” My father went away and left his family there. The next day my mother and I were invited to dine at Mrs. Poc.o.c.k's, in order to meet the present Lord Crauford,[24] then Lord Garnock, and Mr. Cranstoun. The latter attended Mrs. Poc.o.c.k in a coach she had hired to fetch me and my mother into her house. My father met us in the Strand, and stopped the coach, crying out, ”For G.o.d's sake, Mrs. Poc.o.c.k, what do you with this rubbish every day?” ”Rubbish, do you call them,” replied she, ”your wife, your daughter, and one who may be your son?” ”Aye, aye,” said he, ”they are very well matched; 'tis pity they should ever be asunder.” On which, Mr. Cranstoun took hold of my father's hand, and cried out, ”G.o.d grant they never may; don't you say Amen, papa.” At this my father smiled, and said, ”Make her these fine speeches seven years hence.” He then took his leave of them, saying, ”He had so much business upon his hands, that he could not stand idling there”; bidding the coachman to drive on, and crying out, ”G.o.d bless you, I wish you merry.” Mrs. Poc.o.c.k then asked him, ”If he could not contrive to come to them?” To which he made answer, alluding to the distance of her house, ”G.o.d bless you, do you think I can come down now to Henley?” Then our coachman drove on to St. James's Square; and soon after my father left the town, in order to return home.

Whilst I was now in London, Mr. Cranstoun proposed a private marriage to me, saying, ”It might help us with regard to the affair in Scotland; since a real marriage, according to the usage of the Church of England, if matters went hard, might possibly invalidate a contract that arose only from cohabitation.” In order to understand which, it must be observed, that Mr. Cranstoun had before cohabitated with one Miss Murray, by whom he had had a child then living; and was consequently considered, by the Laws of Scotland, as her husband.

This, he said, was the only thing that int.i.tuled her to him, as he never was married by any priest. To Mr. Cranstoun's proposal I answered, ”I won't, Cranstoun, do you so much injury, as well as myself; for my father never will forgive it, nor give me a farthing.”

To which he replied, ”There will be no occasion to discover it, but upon such an interesting event; and then surely, if you love me, you will suffer anything rather than part with me. What would I not suffer for you!” To this I made answer, ”I would do nothing in the affair without he could procure the advice of the best council, and be certainly informed by this that such a marriage would be valid.

Consider with Yourself,” said I, ”Cranstoun, what a condition I should be in, if I should lose my character, my friends, and yourself?--And you I must lose, if your former supposed marriage should be declared valid, and in honour we must never see each other more.” He then said, ”He would go and lay the case immediately before the best council, particularly Mr. Murray, the Solicitor-General.” But I heard no more of this affair whilst we staid in town, excepting that it was laid before the said council; nor did I receive any more solicitations from him on this head.

About this time my mother being distressed for money, was very uneasy, as well as in a bad state of health; which gave me great concern.

Being one day, therefore, alone, and in tears, Mr. Cranstoun came unexpectedly into the room, and insisted upon knowing the reason of my grief; which at last, after many tender persuasions on his part, I discovered to him. I told him my mother owed forty pounds, and as she durst not inform my father of it, did not know which way to get it. To this he replied, ”I only wish I had as many hundreds: I will get it for you, my dear, to-morrow. Poor woman, how can her husband use her so!” On which, my mother coming in, no more was at that time said. Mr.

Cranstoun stayed but a little while; and when he went away, he told me, ”He would see about it.” After he was gone, I took my mother in my arms, and said, ”My dear mamma, you may be easy about this money, for Mr. Cranstoun will get it for you to-morrow.” At this my mother burst into tears, and cried, ”Why will Mr. Blandy expose himself and me so?

How can the poor soul get it? But he shall have my watch if he ever wants it, and I cannot pay him in money.” To this I made answer, ”As to paying him in money, mamma, that you never can; having never been mistress of such a sum, nor likely ever to be so; but make yourself easy, if we meet, you will never be asked for it.”

The next day she and I went to see her sister, Mrs. Frances Stevens, who then lived with her uncle, Mr. Cary, in Watling Street; where Mr.

Cranstoun and his cousin, Mr. Edmonstoun, took their leave of us, we being to set out for Henley the day following. Mr. Cranstoun brought the money with him, which he delivered into my mother's own hand; on which, not being able to speak, she squeezed his hand and burst into tears. He then kissed her, and said, ”Remember, 'tis a son, and therefore don't make yourself uneasy; you can't lie under any obligation to me.” Then he took me by the hand, and led me into another room. Here I was going to return him thanks for his goodness to my mother: but this he prevented, by kissing me, and saying, ”That was all he desired in return.” Then he gave me five guineas, and desired me to keep them by me; since, in case the council should think a private marriage proper, they should enable me to come up in a post-chaise to London, and meet him there, with all possible expedition. After a little farther discourse, we parted in a very moving manner. I paid ten pounds for my mother, out of the forty pounds she had been supplied with by Mr. Cranstoun, that very night.

The next morning we set out for Henley, where we arrived in due time.

The day following, being Sunday, I wrote to Mr. Cranstoun, as he had requested me to do; giving him an account of our safe arrival, and thanking him in the strongest terms, for his late extraordinary favour. The next day, being Monday, the other thirty pounds, being the remaining part of the money my mother had borrowed of Mr. Cranstoun, she paid to the footman, for fowls, b.u.t.ter, eggs, wine, and other provisions, brought into the house, chiefly on account of entertainments, by him.

From this time to Sept. 28th, 1749, my mother continued in a good state of health. But on that day, which was about half a year after her last departure from London, at one o'clock in the morning, she was taken very ill. This giving me, who always lay with her, great uneasiness, I immediately got up, and called her maid., who instantly appeared; and then she got out of bed, and retired. When she came into bed again, she said, ”My dear Molly, don't fright yourself: You know there is now no danger.” In order to understand which words, it will be proper to observe, that, when my mother was in labour of me, she received a hurt; which made me apprehensive of ill consequences, which either the cholick, which was her present disorder, or any obstructions in the parts contiguous to those which are the seat of that distemper, happened. She lay pretty easy till six, when I dispatched a messenger for Mr. Norton, the apothecary to the family, who lived in Henley. When he came, she complained of a pain in her bowels; upon which he took some blood from her, and ordered her some gentle physic. She seemed better after this, but nothing pa.s.sed through her. It being Friday, and many country gentlemen meeting to bowl at the Bell Inn, the Rev. Mr. Stevens of Fawley, my mother's brother, came thither that day, paid a visit to his sister, and found her greatly indisposed. When he left the room, in which she lay, for she kept her bed, I followed him out, and asked him, if he thought there was any danger; telling him how she then was, the manner in which she was first seized, and what had been prescribed her. As she before had had several such fits of cholick, Mr. Stevens did not apprehend any immediate danger. I said, ”If my mamma was not better soon, I would send for a physician.” To which he replied, ”You are much in the right of it; but stay a little, and see what effects the physic will have.” He called again in the evening, and found her better, tho' nothing had yet pa.s.sed through her. About twelve o'clock at night my mother obliged me, who was then myself indisposed, to get into another bed; and promised to send to me, if she found herself worse. Soon after this, she grew much worse; but would not send to her daughter, saying, ”She would know her fate too soon.” She farther said in Mr. Norton, who was then with her, ”My daughter loves me so well, that I wish my decease may not be the death of her.” Between five and six o'clock in the morning, on Sat.u.r.day Sept. 30th, 1749, my mother's maid came up to me, and told me, that, ”If I would see my mother alive, I must come immediately into her chamber.” I leaped out of bed, put on my shoes, and one petticoat only, and ran thither in the greatest confusion imaginable. When my mother saw me, she put out her hand, and said, ”Now, Molly, shew yourself a Christian, and submit to what G.o.d is pleased to order. I must die, my dear: G.o.d will enable you to bear it, if you pray to Him.” On which I turned about in a state of distraction, ran to my father's room, and said to him, ”For G.o.d's sake, sir, come to my mother's room: she is this instant dying.” Then I ran, with great inquietude, into the kitchen, where I found my footman, and sent him immediately to Fawley for the Rev. Mr. Stevens, my uncle, and his brother, Mr. Henry Stevens, of Doctors Commons, who was then at his house in Henley. I also, at the same time, dispatched a messenger to Dr. Addington, who lived at Reading. After which I went upstairs, and found my father sitting by my mother's bedside. She took him and me both by the hand, joining our hands together, and saying to him, ”Be both a father and a mother to her: I have long tried and known her temper, Mr. Blandy. She is all your heart can wish for, and has been the best of daughters to me. Use her with a generous confidence, and she will never abuse it. She has set her heart upon Cranstoun; when I am gone, let no one set you against this match.” To these last words Mr. Blandy immediately made answer, ”It shall not be my fault, if this does not take place; but they must stay, you know, till the unhappy affair in Scotland is decided.” ”G.o.d bless you,”

replied she, ”and thank you for that promise; G.o.d bless you, Mr.

Blandy, for all your kindnesses to me and my girl. G.o.d grant that you may both live long, that you may be a blessing to each other. Whatever little unkindnesses may have pa.s.sed I freely forgive you. Now, if you please to go down, Mr. Blandy, for my spirits fail me.” My father then kissed her, and retired in tears, saying, as he went, ”The doctor still may think of something that may be of service to you.” At this she smiled and said, ”Not without you can give me a new inside.” When my father was gone, my mother took hold of my hand, drew me to her, and kissed me. Taking notice that I had no cloaths on, she ordered my maid to bring 'em down, and dress me. This being done, she ordered her servants out of the room; and told me, ”she had many things, if her strength would permit, to say to me. Be sure then,” said she, ”Molly, when I am gone, to remember the lessons I have taught you. Be dutiful to your father; and if you think I have been sometimes a little hardly used, do not remember it in wrath; but defend my character if aspersed. I owe some more money, Molly, G.o.d knows how you will get it paid. I wish your uncles would stand your friends. If your father should know it, I am only fearful for you. Indeed, my dear, I never spent it in extravagancies. I was in hopes you would have been married; I then would have told your father all, as I could have come to you till his pa.s.sion had been over.” On my being drowned In tears, she catched me in her arms, and cried, ”I leave the world with the greatest pleasure, only thee makes me sorry to go. Oh that I could but take you along with me!--But then what would poor Cranstoun do? Be sure, child, you behave with honour in that affair; don't, either thro' interest or terror, violate the promises you have made.” To this I reply'd, ”You may be sure, madam, I never will. I will do all I can to act as you would wish your daughter to do. Oh mamma, you have been the best of mothers to me! How can I survive you, and go thro' all the miseries I must meet with after your death, without a friend to advise with on any emergency or occasion.” ”My dear,” returned she, ”your uncle John, in things you cannot speak to your papa about, will help and advise you in the tenderest manner; and you may repose an absolute confidence in him.”

Soon after Mr. Stevens of Fawley came, and I conducted him into my mother's chamber. At his approach to her, he was so overwhelmed with grief, that he could not speak a word. She took him by the hand, and said, ”I am glad to see you, my dear brother. You must help to comfort your poor niece, who will stand in need of your a.s.sistance. Never forsake her, my dear brother. All that gives me pain in death is the leaving of her behind me.” Then turning to me, ”Your uncle Jack, my dear, will take care of you, and look on you as his own,” At which Mr.

Stevens took hold of his sister's and niece's hands, and, with tears, told 'em both he would. Then turning about, he asked me if the physician was not yet come? My mother said, ”They would send for him, but he could be of no service to her”; giving her brother at the same time such reasons for her despondency as convinced him, that there were little or no hopes of her recovery. He found himself so moved at this, that he was obliged to go down stairs, and retire to my father and Mr. Henry Stevens, who were at that time both in the parlour. The physician, Dr. Addington, of Reading, soon arrived, and went directly to my mother's room. When he came in, she showed him the inflammation and swelling on her bowels. He prescribed her some physic, to be taken once in every two hours, and ordered her to be blooded immediately.

Her bowels also, according to his direction, were to be fomented and poulticed once in every four hours. This operation I took upon myself, and punctually performed it. I also gave her every medicine she took till she was at the point of death, and I myself was forced to be carried out of the room in a fit. Dr. Addington, before he prescribed anything, went with me out of the room, and told me he was afraid he could do nothing for her; repeating the same afterwards both to my father and my two uncles. Notwithstanding which, he thought fit to order the above mentioned poultices and fomentations; which, according to his direction, were applied, tho' without producing any good effect. In fine, my dear mother died Sept. 30, 1749, about nine o'clock at night.

For six months preceding her sickness, or thereabouts, being the interval between her last departure from London and the time her indisposition seized her, my mother never saw Mr. Cranstoun; tho' I constantly, and even almost every post, corresponded with him. It must here be observed, that Lady Cranstoun had wrote to my mother some time before, to return her thanks for the civilities her son had received from her. It must also be remembered, that a little before my mother went last to town, I and my father both received letters from Miss Murray, signed ”N. Cranstoun,” to inform us, that she was his lawful wife. The decree of the Court of Scotland in her favour was sent with these letters. When I received them, I carried them to my father.