Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) - Frances Ann Kemble (sad books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Frances Ann Kemble
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Cheeks, Uttering Between Sobs And Sips, In Utter Self-Abasement, Her
_Peccavi_ In The Form Of Oaths And Imprecations Of The Finest
Billingsgate Vernacular (All, However, Addressed To Herself), That Would
Have Made A Dragoon Shake In His Shoes. The Original Form Of Which _Mea
Culpa_ Seized The Worthy Manager With Such An Irresistibly Ludicrous
Effect That He Left The Poor, Guilty Authoress Without Being Able To
Address A Syllable To Her, Lest He Should Explode In Peals Of Laughter
Instead Of Decent Words Of Condolence.
To Accompany An Author Or Authoress (I Should Think Especially The
Latter) On The First Night Of The Representation Of Their Piece Is By No
Means A Pleasant Act Of Duty Or Friendship. I Remember My Mother, Whose
Own Nervous Temperament Certainly Was Extremely Ill Adapted For Such An
Undertaking, Describing The Intolerable Distress She Had Experienced On
The Occasion Of The First Representation Of A Piece Called, I Think,
"Father And Son," Taken From A Collection Of Interesting Stories
Entitled "The Canterbury Tales," And Adapted To The Stage By One Of The
Misses Lee, The Sister Authoresses Of The Tales. The Piece Was Very
Fairly Successful, But My Mother Said That Though, According To Her Very
Considerable Experience, The Actors Were By No Means More Imperfect In
Their Parts Than Usual On A First Night, Her Nervous Anxiety Was Kept
Almost At Fever Height By Poor Miss Lee's Incessant Running Commentary
Of "Ah! Very Pretty, No Doubt--Very Fine, I Dare Say--_Only I Never
Wrote A Word Of It_!"
Lord Byron Took The Same Story For The Subject Of His Powerful Play Of
"Werner," In Which Mr. Macready Acted So Finely, And With Such Great
Success.
I Cannot Imagine What Possessed Me In An Unguarded Hour To Consent, As I
Did, To Go With My Friends, Messrs. Tom Taylor And Charles Reade, To See
The First Representation Of A Play Of Theirs Called, I Think, "The
King's Wager," In Which Charles The Second, Nell Gwynn, And The Plague
Were Prominent Characters. Accidental Circumstances Prevented One Of The
Gentlemen From Coming With Me, And I Have Often Since Wondered At My
Temerity In Having Placed Myself In Such A Trying Situation.
GREAT RUSSELL STREET, October 24, 1830.
DEAR H----,
I Have Been Too Busy To Answer Your Last Sooner, But This Hour
Before Bedtime, The First Quiet One For Some Time, Shall Be Yours.
I Have Heard Nothing More Of My Brother, And Am Ignorant Where He
Is Or How Engaged At Present. You Judged Rightly With Respect To
The Impossibility Of Longer Keeping My Mother In Ignorance Of His
Absence From England. The Result Was Pretty Much What I Had
Apprehended; But Her Feelings Have Now Become Somewhat Calmer On
The Subject. We Are Careful, However, As Much As Possible, To Avoid
All Mention Of Or Reference To My Brother In Her Presence, For She
Is In A Very Cruel State Of Anxiety About Him.
I Am Endeavoring As Much As Possible To Follow My Studies With Some
Regularity. I Have Forsworn Paying And Receiving Morning Visits; So
That, When No Rehearsal Interferes, I Get My Practicing, My
Volume 1 Chapter 17 Pg 101Singing, And My Reading In Tolerable Peace.
I Have Had A Key Of Russell Square Offered Me, Which Privilege I
Shall Most Thankfully Accept. Walking Regularly Is, Of Course,
Essential, And Though I Rather Dread The Idea Of Solitarily Turning
Round And Round That Dreary Emblem Of Eternity, A Circular
Gravel-Walk, Over-_Gloomed_ With Soot-Blackened Privet Bushes, I Am
Sure I Ought, And I Mean To Do It Every Day For An Hour. We Do Not
Dine Till Six, When I Do Not Act, And When I Do, I Do Not Go To The
Theater Till That Hour; So That From Ten In The Morning, When
Breakfast Is Over, I Get A Tolerably Long Day. I Have Obtained My
Father's Leave To Learn Drawing And German, And As Soon As Our
House Is A Little More Comfortably Settled, I Shall Begin Both. I
Do Not Know Whether I Have The Least Talent For Drawing, But I Have
So Strong A Desire To Possess That Accomplishment That I Think, By
The Help Of A Good Master And Patience And Hard Work, I Must
Succeed To Some Decent Degree. I Wish To Provide Myself With Every
Possible Resource Against The Engrossing Excitement Of My
Profession While I Remain In It, And To Fill Its Place Whenever I
Leave It, Or It Leaves Me; All My Occupations Are With That View
And To That End.
My Father Has Promised Me To Speak To Mr. Murray About Publishing
My Play And My Verses. I Am Anxious For This For Several Reasons,
Some Of Which I Believe I Mentioned To You; And To These I Have
Since Added A Great Wish To Have Some Good Prints I Possess Framed,
For My Little Room, And I Should Not Scruple To Apply Part Of The
Money So Earned To That Purpose. You Asked Me Which Is My Room. You
Remember The Bathroom, Next To What Was My Uncle John's Bedroom, On
The Third Floor; The Room Above That My Mother Has Fitted Up
Beautifully For Me, And I Inhabit It All Day Long With Great
Complacency And A Sort Of Comfortable, Alexander-Selkirk Feeling.
And This Suggests A Question Which Has Seldom Been Out Of My Mind,
And Which I Wish To Recall To Yours. When Do You Intend To Come And
See Me? I Can Offer You A Nest On The _Fourth Story_, Which Is
Excellent For Your Health, As Free A Circulation Of Air As A London
Lodging Can Well Afford, And As Fine A Combination Of Chimney-Pots
As Even Your Love Of The Picturesque Could Desire.
Dear H----, Will You Not Come And Pass A Month With Us? Now Stop A
Bit, And I Will Point Out To You One By One The Inducements To And
Advantages Of Such A Step. In The First Place, My Father And Mother
Both Request And Wish It, And You Know How Truly Happy It Would
Make Me. Your Own People Can Well Spare You For A Month, And I Am
Sure Will Be The More Inclined To Do So From The Consideration That
Change Of Air And Scene Will Be Good For You, And That, Though Your
Stock Of Original Ideas Is Certainly Extraordinary, Yet You Cannot
Be Expected To Go On For Ever, Like A Spider, Existing Mentally In
The Midst Of Your Own Weavings, Without Every Now And Then
Recruiting Your Strength And Taking In A New Supply Of Material.
You Shall Come To London, That Huge Mass Of Matter For Thought And
Observation, And To Me, In Whom You Find So Interesting An Epitome
Of All The Moods, Tenses, And Conjugations Of Every Regular And
Volume 1 Chapter 17 Pg 102Irregular Form Of "To Do, To Be, And To Suffer;" And When You Have
Been Sufficiently _Smoked, Fogged_, Astonished, And Edified, You
Shall Return Home With One Infallible Result Of Your Stay With
Us--Increased Value For A Peaceful Life, Quiet Companions, A Wide
Sea-View, And Potatoes Roasted In Their Skins; Not But What You
Shall Have The Last-Mentioned Luxury Here, If You Will But Come.
Now, Dear H----, I Wish This Very Much, But Promise To Bear Your
Answer Reasonably Well; I Depend Upon Your Indulging Me If You Can,
And Shall Try Not To Behave Ill If You Don't; So Do Me Justice, And
Do Not Give Way To Your Shyness And Habits Of Retirement. I Want
You To Come Here Before The 20th Of November, And Then I Will Let
You Go In Time To Be At Home For Christmas. So Now My Cause Is In
Your Hands--_Avisez-Vous_.
I Wonder Whether You Have Heard That My Father Has Been Thrashing
The Editor Of The _Age_ Newspaper, Who, It Seems, Took Offence At
My Father's Not Appearing On Sufficiently Familiar Terms With Him
Somewhere Or Other When They Met, In Revenge For Which "Coldness"
(As He Styles It) He Has Not Ceased For The Last Six Months Abusing
Us, Every Week, In His Paper. From What I Hear I Was The Especial
Mark Of His Malice; Of Course I Need Not Tell You That, Knowing The
Character Of This Publication, I Should Never Have Looked At It,
And The Circumstance Of My Name Appearing In Its Columns Would
Hardly Have Been An Inducement To Me To Do So. I Knew Nothing,
Therefore, Of My Own Injuries, But Heard General Expressions Of
Indignation Against Mr. Westmacott, And Saw That My Father Was
Extremely Exasperated Upon The Subject. The Other Night They Were
All Going To The Play, And Pressed Me Very Much To Go Too, But I
Had Something I Wished To Write, And Remained At Home. On Their
Return My Father Appeared To Me Much Excited, And I Was Informed
That Having Unluckily Come Across Mr. Westmacott, His Wrath Had Got
The Better Of His Self-Command, And He Had Bestowed A Severe
Beating Upon That Individual. I Could Not Help Looking Very Grave
At This; For Though I Should Have Been Very Well Satisfied If It
Could Have _Rained_ A Good Thrashing Upon Mr. Westmacott From The
Sky, Yet As I Do Not Approve Of Returning Injuries By Injuries, I
Could Not Rejoice That My Father Had Done So. I Suppose He Saw That
I Had No Great Satisfaction In The Event, For He Said, "The Law
Affords No Redress Against Such Attacks As This Paper Makes On
People, And I Thought It Time To Take Justice In My Own Hands When
My Daughter Is Insulted." He Then Repeated Some Of The Language
Made Use Of With Reference To Me In The _Age_, And I Could Not Help
Blushing With Indignation To My Fingers' Ends.
Perhaps, Under The Circumstances, It Is Not Surprising That My
Father Has Done What He Has, But I Think I Should Have Admired Him
More If He Had Not. Mr. Westmacott Means To Bring An Action Against
Him, And I Am Afraid He Will Have To Pay Dearly For His Momentary
Indulgence Of Temper.
I Must Have Done Writing, Though I Had A Good Deal More To Say. God
Bless You, Dear. If You Answer This Letter Directly, I Will Write
You A Better Next Time.
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