Part 4 (1/2)

”A woman that adds nothing to a man's fortune ought not to take from his happiness. If possible I would add to it; but I will not take from you any satisfaction you could enjoy without me.”

”If we marry, our happiness must consist in loving one another: 'tis princ.i.p.ally my concern to think of the most probable method of making the love eternal.”

”There is one article absolutely necessary--to be ever beloved, one must be ever agreeable.”

”Very few people that have settled entirely in the country but have grown at length weary of one another. The lady's conversation generally falls into a thousand impertinent effects of idleness, and the gentleman falls _in_ love with his dogs and horses and _out_ of love with everything else.”

And so on.

Possibly if Lady Mary had had less brains and more pa.s.sion, if she had not so calmly worked out the permutations and combinations of married life, the alliance might have been more successful. She, with all her intelligence, did not seem to realise that matrimony is not an affair of rules and regulations, of aphorisms and epigrams, nor that the lines on which husband and wife shall conduct themselves to a happy ending can be settled by a study of vulgar fractions.

Anyhow, the plunge was at last taken--with some not unnatural trepidation on the part of the twenty-three-year-old bride. On Friday night, August 15, 1712, she wrote to Montagu:

”I tremble for what we are doing.--Are you sure you will love me for ever? Shall we never repent? I fear and I hope. I forsee all that will happen on this occasion. I shall incense my family in the highest degree. The generality of the world will blame my conduct, and the relations and friends of ---- will invent a thousand stories of me; yet, 'tis possible, you may recompense everything to me. In this letter, which I am fond of, you promise me all that I wish. Since I writ so far, I received your Friday letter. I will be only yours, and I will do what you please.

”You shall hear from me again to-morrow, not to contradict, but to give some directions. My resolution is taken. Love me and use me well.”

The wedding licence is dated August 16, and the marriage took place in a day or two.

The bride had the active a.s.sistance of her uncle, William Feilding, who may have been present at the ceremony; and the full sympathy of her brother, Lord Kingston, who, however, did not accompany her, perhaps deeming it impolitic to quarrel with his father.

The family must have thought that Lord Dorchester would examine Lady Mary's papers, for her sister, Lady Frances destroyed all she could find, including, unfortunately, a diary that Lady Mary had kept for several years.

CHAPTER IV

EARLY MARRIED LIFE (1712-1714)

An uneventful existence--Montagu's Parliamentary duties take him to London--Lady Mary stays mostly in the country--Correspondence--Montagu a careless husband, but very careful of his money--Later he becomes a miser--Lady Mary does not disguise the tedium of her existence-- Concerning a possible reconciliation with her father--Lord Pierrepont of Hanslope--Lord Halifax--Birth of a son, christened after his father, Edward Wortley Montagu--The mother's anxiety about his health--Family events--Lady Evelyn Pierrepont marries Baron (afterwards Earl) Gower--Lady Frances Pierrepont marries the Earl of Mar--Lord Dorchester marries again--Has issue, two daughters--the death of Lady Mary's brother, William--His son, Evelyn, in due course succeeds to the Dukedom of Kingston--Elizabeth Chudleigh--The political situation in 1714--The death of Queen Anne--The accession of George I--The unrest in the country-- Lady Mary's alarm for her son.

The records for the first years of the married life of Edward and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu are scanty indeed. From the wedding day until 1716, when they went abroad, Lady Mary's life was, for months together, as uneventful as that of the ordinary suburban housewife. Montagu's parliamentary duties took him frequently to town, and kept him there for prolonged periods, during which he certainly showed no strong desire for her to join him. Lady Mary, indeed, spent most of the time in the country. Sometimes she stayed at the seat of her father-in-law, Wharncliffe Lodge, near Sheffield; occasionally she visited Lord Sandwich at Hinchinbrooke; for a while they stayed at Middlethorpe, in the neighbourhood of Bishopthorpe and York. From time to time they hired houses in other parts of Yorks.h.i.+re. The honeymoon lasted from August until October, 1712, when Montagu had to go to Westminster.

The first letter of this period is dated characteristically: ”Walling Wells, October 22, which is the first post I could write. Monday night being so fatigued and sick I went straight to bed from the coach.” It starts:

”I don't know very well how to begin; I am perfectly unacquainted with a proper matrimonial stile. After all, I think 'tis best to write as if we were not married at all. I lament your absence, as if you were still my lover, and I am impatient to hear you are got safe to Durham, and that you have fixed a time for your return.”

Marriage made Lady Mary more human. She no longer dwelt upon the various points that in her maidenhood days she had thought would be conducive to happiness in matrimonial life; she was now, anyhow for the moment, in love with her husband, or at least persuaded herself that this was the case, and was at pains to inform him of the fact.

”I have not been very long in this family; and I fancy myself in that described in the 'Spectator,'” the letter of October 22 continues. ”The good people here look upon their children with a fondness that more than recompenses their care of them. I don't perceive much distinction in regard to their merits; and when they speak sense or nonsense, it affects the parents with almost the same pleasure. My friends.h.i.+p for the mother, and kindness for Miss Biddy, make me endure the squalling of Miss Nanny and Miss Mary with abundance of patience: and my foretelling the future conquests of the eldest daughter, makes me very well with the family.--I don't know whether you will presently find out that this seeming impertinent account is the tenderest expressions of my love to you; but it furnishes my imagination with agreeable pictures of our future life; and I flatter myself with the hopes of one day enjoying with you the same satisfactions; and that, after as many years together, I may see you retain the same fondness for me as I shall certainly mine for you, and the noise of a nursery may have more charms for us than the music of an opera.

[_Torn_] ”as these are the sure effect of my sincere love, since 'tis the nature of that pa.s.sion to entertain the mind with pleasures in prospect; and I check myself when I grieve for your absence, by remembering how much reason I have to rejoice in the hope of pa.s.sing my whole life with you. A good fortune not to be valued!--I am afraid of telling you that I return thanks for it to Heaven, because you will charge me with hypocrisy; but you are mistaken: I a.s.sist every day at public prayers in this family, and never forget in my private e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n how much I owe to Heaven for making me yours. 'Tis candle-light, or I should not conclude so soon.