The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister

by Helena Whitbread

  Thursday 25 September [York]

  Anne Belcombe called about tickets for the Minster at 8.20. Went out with her & got them. Only just in time for gallery tickets… M— got her own breakfast & then came to make us ours. She & I set off to the Minster at 9¾. The rest soon followed, & after a tremendous crowding & pushing, we all got well in, 7 from here [the Norcliffes’ house in Petergate, York] & 7 from the Belcombes’, partly on the 1st, 2nd & 3rd benches from the orchestra. We fancied ourselves rather too near, but perhaps we were not. Catalani sang with rather more spirit this morning & much better. Mrs Salmon excellent as before. Miss Travis, Mrs Salmon & Catalani were each encored this morning at the desire of the archbishop. No! It was the dean who hoisted the white handkerchief signal of encore! This made us late, & tho’ we came away just before it was over, it was 4.55 when Mrs Norcliffe & I got home. At 7, we all went to the concert. Every seat full. By dint of management we had 2 benches brought & put before all the others that we were quite close to the orchestra. The encoring made us late home tonight. Mrs Norcliffe & Charlotte & Marianne returned in chairs. We would not wait & ran off home. A more crowded room than last night & capital music. Got home at 12.20.

  Friday 26 September [York]

  Out at 8¾ & went to the Belcombes’ to ask them to invite Catalani for Sunday, as she is to dine with them one day… Came home to breakfast at 9.35. It was ten before we set off to the Minster. A great crowd in getting in but not so bad as Wednesday. Too late & obliged to sit on a side bench between the 2nd & 3rd pillars from the orchestra… The Minster seemed very full, but could not be so full as on Wednesday because several tickets were unsold… Catalani sang Luther’s hymn, which was encored & Miss Stevens sang ‘Pious Orgies’ instead of the song printed, & was encored. Mrs Salmon sang ‘Let the Bright Seraphim’ perfectly well. She had determined to sing well at this festival. She walks before breakfast. She & Mr Sapio were on the walls this morning at 7. She drinks hard they say & is kept by the editor of The Times… Did not get home to dine till 6. Found Isabella gone to dine at the Belcombes’. All the rest but I went to the play at 7½.

  Sunday 28 September [York]

  Out at 8¼ & went to the Belcombes’. Sat by M—’s bedside till 9¼, then went home, breakfasted & went with Mrs Norcliffe to the Minster at 9¾… At 1, went over the bridge. Intended crossing the water but found no boat… It was 3 before I met Mrs Norcliffe at Mrs Best’s… Mrs Norcliffe soon left me at Mrs Best’s & I staid by her bedside (she was unwell – knocked up with the gaieties) till 4… Dined at 4 & at 4.50 went to take leave of the Belcombes. Madame Catalani went to dine there at 5 instead of 6, & nobody being ready, I staid & had a little tête-à-tête with her till Mrs Belcombe came & then M— & Mrs Milne. Madame Catalani is certainly a very handsome, elegantly mannered & fascinating woman. I stammered on in French very tolerably. Saw M— merely for a moment. Somehow I relapse too often into a feeling of imperfect satisfaction with her… she wants tenderness in her manner towards me. She is too commonplace. Her sensibility seems rather weakness of nerve than the strength of affection. She thinks a good deal of her appearance & dress & has not had time to think much of taking care of mine yet. She is subject to a feeling of shame about me, such as at Scarbro’. I fancy she would sometimes rather be without me. She too much makes me feel the necessity of cutting a good figure in society & that, if I was in the background, she would not be the one to help me forward. She is not exactly the woman of all hours for me. She suits me best at night. In bed she is excellent.

  Monday 6 October [Langton]

  From 3½ to 4.50, walked with Charlotte Norcliffe to the wold. Confidential, cordial sort of conversation, altogether gently flattering to her. Mention my wanting a new friend as a constant companion & to keep house for me, sit at the head of my table, etc. Just before tea… read from p. 126 to 168, Collections & Recollections. The last article a pretty well done account of Lady Eleanor Butler & Miss Ponsonby. Near ½ hour’s tête-à-tête with Charlotte Norcliffe. Talk of wanting a new friend… If M— & Tib were together, I would shew the latter the precedence in my attentions. Would not say which I liked best. Declared they never did, or ever could, interfere with each other. Both kept their own places.

  Sunday 12 October [Langton]

  Mrs Norcliffe & I went to church at 10.40. The girls followed. Mr Simpson preached ½ hour… Dullish sermon. We all staid the sacrament… From 3 to 4½, Charlotte Norcliffe & I walked on the wold & took a turn in the garden. In the evening, in 38 minutes, read aloud sermon 3, Dr Young, on the predestination of St Paul, which is proved to be very different from that of Calvin.

  Monday 13 October [Langton]

  Down to breakfast at 10¼. Mrs Norcliffe having had a letter from M— this morning to propose her coming here tomorrow… I concluded Mr Charles Lawton fixed not to go to Scarbro’. Wrote 3pp. to my aunt (Shibden) to thank her for my letter… & say I hoped to be able to fix the day for my return after I had seen M— here. Sent off this letter to my aunt by John, who went to Malton at 1 to order post horses… From 3¾ to 4.20, walked to the wold, round the race-stand & back. After dinner, borrowed the butler’s (Mr Hill’s) flute and played on it a little. Played also, on the piano, his copy of Knapton’s arrangement of church psalms.

  Tuesday 14 October [Langton]

  Isabella went to bed at 9 this evening feeling unwell with difficulty of breathing. John Coates shaved her head this morning with the view of making her hair grow black & thick. Perhaps the pressure of her wig, being uncomfortable at first, might give her a little headache. In the evening… playing a little on Hill’s flute & psalm tunes on the piano… Very fine day yet did not stir out. I must have less bed & more exercise when I return home.

  Wednesday 15 October [Langton]

  At 4, went to dress for dinner. At 5¼, Mrs Norcliffe & Charlotte Norcliffe & M— & Lou arrived from York, & Watson & John, M—’s servants. I felt oddish when they came & did not go downstairs quite immediately. This Blackstone Edge & Scarbro’ business so clings to my memory I can’t shake it off. They must have all thought my manners coldish. After dinner, played 4 hits at backgammon with M—, of which she won 3… I came up to bed at 11. The rest followed in about ¼ hour. M— came to my room & we managed to have a little tête-à-tête. Hurt at my manners. Afraid I shall never forget Blackstone Edge, etc.… In fact, I felt low & unhappy & could have cried, with pleasure, all the evening. I told M— I was put out of sorts a little but bade her not mind. She said she could not help it. I saw she was getting unhappy. This melted me. I promised to return with her [to York and then eventually to Shibden] & we both got a little better. I believe she loves me but oh, I agreed with her when she said she would give anything to efface the last three months. Alas, they have altered me. How they have revolutionized my feelings of love & confidence towards her.

  Thursday 16 October [Langton]

  At 12.20, I slank off to my room & wrote the whole of the journal of yesterday, a rainy morning keeping us all in the house. M— is evidently wishing to bring me round & is more attentive to me than I to her. For the life of me I cannot forget &, what is worse, I cannot cease to remember. Told M— honestly I could get over the Blackstone Edge business. It was the Scarbro’ concern that was the worst, the being ashamed of my figure, etc. If she was in London & I there too, or in any strange place, I felt that I should get out of her way as far as possible. ‘Never mind,’ said I, ‘I shall get right by & by.’ ‘But not, I fear,’ she said, ‘while I am with you & then I shall not know that you are right & I shall fret.’ She has just been to beg I will go downstairs or she shall be low too. She cannot talk without me so I must go… In the evening, played backgammon with Mrs Norcliffe. Won a game & lost 2 hits. All went upstairs at 11.20 & came into my room where we all sat telling stories & being very merry till about one.

  Friday 17 October [York]

  From 11¾ to 12¾ packed all my things. Took leave of the Norcliffes & M— & Lou & I off at 1.50. M— & I got out to see the church. About 10
minutes looking at the new painted window given by the Norcliffes. Arrived at Petergate at 4.50.

  Sunday 19 October [York]

  At 12.40, M— & I came upstairs, she to settle her accounts & I to write my journal… Began talking of one sort of thing or other… She said I had mistaken [her] speech at Scarbro’, but she would not undeceive me, for it was a subject on which a sort of pride had all along made her wish to conceal her feelings, even from me. She had shrunk from me knowing that she had so much passion in her composition. She had meant that if I had a feminine figure she should be satisfied with intellectuals, that is, she should think I had enough of these, but insinuated she did not intend to say she should wish for nothing more. I think it would have been impossible for me to guess this from her speech & manner at the time, but I did not press the point but congratulated her on having casually discovered what made me feel much better satisfied than before; what reconciled me more than anything else could to the Blackstone Edge & Scarbro’ business & would, I hoped, make us much happier in the future. She persuaded me I had often done her injustice; often thought her careless of me & cold & worldly, when she was neither one nor the other. We talked on & were very affectionate & mutually satisfied with each other. She could do anything for me. Share poverty with me, or live together in a coal-hole.

  Monday 20 October [York]

  At 10.40, went out with M—, first to Barnett’s in College Street to have M— taught by him to paint on glass & burn in the colours. 1 hour & 35 minutes there. Saw the whole process of laying on the colours & burning them in, as well as could be done, by laying the glass on a plate of iron in the fire. It would have taken too much time to regularly heat & use the man’s furnace. M— must have an enamelling furnace. May get a small one from the potteries. All the colours used are metallic. Those used as paints are mixed up with fat turpentine; those used as stains, with water, which, being driven off by the fire, leaves the colouring powder, having imparted its stain, to be rubbed off by the finger. Red is the only stain that requires being laid on both sides of the glass. Green is made by burning in blue paint on the one side & then burning in the yellow stain on the other. All the colours are mixed up with a flux of glass; & the moment these colours flux, that is, assume a shining appearance on the glass, it is time to gradually cool down the heat of the furnace. Manganese forms black, silver, pink or orange, according to the heat employed; gold forms purple, etc. The colours that require least heat should be put on last. Orange requires least heat of all. Each colour should be burned in separately, so that 1 piece of glass should have as many burnings as there are different colours employed. The glass that is coloured en masse, that is, that has the colour ground down & fused with it ab origine in the furnace, is called potglass, from the circumstance of its being all melted down together in the same pot or crucible. Left Mr Barnett at 1.20 & went about shopping with M— for about ½ hour.

  Wednesday 22 October [Halifax]

  Had my hair cut. Parsons came at 8.35 & kept me till after 9. Hurried breakfast & off at 9½. In high favour at Petergate. Asked when I would go again. If I could not have a whole bed, I should have half or, if not that, a third with Dr & Mrs Belcombe… M— impatient to be off. She & I drove from the door at 12 & got to the White Horse Inn, Leeds, in 2½ hours. Changed horses at the Sun Inn, Bradford & the Union Cross, Halifax & got to Shibden at 6. My uncle & aunt quite well & very glad to see us.

  M— stayed at Shibden until Saturday 1 November. Most of the time was taken up with discussion and letters to and from Dr Belcombe on ways and means of getting C— to insure his life in M—’s favour in order to give her a little security should she be left widowed. In the absence of M— producing an heir, which seemed increasingly unlikely as time went on, the Lawton estate devolved upon C—’s family alone and M— would have no claim whatsoever unless C— provided an annuity for her. C— appeared not at all willing to make this provision for M— and, as she had relinquished her claim to any of the Belcombe estate in favour of her unmarried sisters, her future prospects looked bleak indeed. She began to make tentative arrangements to insure Anne’s life in her favour as an additional safeguard.

  Saturday 25 October [Halifax]

  At 11½ (down to breakfast at 10.05) M— & I off in the gig… & called at Pye Nest & sat with Mrs Edwards 20 minutes. She had us upstairs in her room, being brought to bed three weeks of her 10th child, to be called Harriet. They have eight now living. In returning, meant to have taken a drive round the moor but, having the hounds, we soon retraced our steps to the turnpike & high rd & got home a few minutes past one. M— & I tête-à-tête in the drawing-[room] almost all the time. Brought down Dr Ash’s little book, Institute of English Grammar, trying to give M— some instruction & lent her the book… Dinner at 4. Tea at 7.50. Afterwards, my aunt & I lost a bumper to M— & my uncle, & then won a rubber of 3 points of them.

  Tuesday 28 October [Halifax]

  Sat up talking over M—’s affairs; C—’s insuring his life, etc. She at last proposed insuring my life at twenty pounds a year for eight hundred at my death. This seemed to satisfy her as providing for the only contingency that can leave her destitute. She is, she says, sure of a home if I live, but life is uncertain & she would provide against my death. We got ourselves into a grave humour, unfit for a kiss.

  Thursday 30 October [Halifax]

  M— had a kind letter from C— to say he would meet her at Manchester on Saturday… M— had just finished her 2 letters, one to C— & one to her father & we set off to walk to Halifax to put them into the post office at 2¼. Met the mail in Northgate. Gave the guard the letter to Dr Belcombe & a shilling to see it delivered to Dr Belcombe tonight, which he promised… Went to several shops for M— to buy gowns as presents to her servants… Got home at 4.10. Sat down to dinner at 4¼ & dressed afterwards… Wrote the journal of yesterday & so far of today & went down to tea at 7¾… M— seemed to have got a little cold & had some warm wine & water just before getting into bed.

  Saturday 1 November [Halifax]

  M— off from here at 10.40. We stopt at the Cross to put on an additional pair of horses. I went with her tête-à-tête in the carriage about ½ mile beyond Ripponden (nearly 7 miles from Halifax) then left her at 12.10 & walked back to the library in 2 hours. Staid there about 2 hours… Got home about 4½. Staid talking to my uncle & aunt till 5½, then went into my [room]. My heart died within me as I entered it. Oh, that we were together. I mused, I scarce know what, after leaving her this morning, & went to the library pour passer le temps, & delay my return to the place she had left.

  Sunday 2 November [Halifax]

  Down to breakfast at 9¾. We all went to church. Mr Knight preached 33 minutes… The church was heated the first time this season. I must give up going & go to the new church again. George brought back a basket of game from Langton – a brace of partridges & a wild duck; my boots from Rutter’s & a letter from Isabella Norcliffe 3pp. Poor soul! She has ‘been very unwell for the last few days’ & seeming rather alarmed & low about herself. ‘I have been unwell since last Friday & it has turned to the fluor albus [i.e. leucorrhoea or ‘the whites’] & most violent. Cobb was sent for & he says it is owing to relaxation & says I must sleep in a room without a fire & take regular but moderate exercise. It has made me feel very weak but certainly better today & I trust in God will soon go off.’ All this has struck me like a thunderbolt. My heart sank within me as I thought of the injury I was so unsuspected of having done her. I am not to name the thing to anyone. She would not like it to be known. Remorse struck me deeply. Oh, M—, M—. What have you done? Surely, said I, I am more sorry for poor Isabella than you were for me. Sat down to write to Isabella… Tried to cheer her up & inspirit her. Wrote affectionately. Gave my uncle & aunt’s love & that we should all be delighted to see her here in January. The complaint was not at all considered a dangerous one. If it roused her into a better system of management it might prolong, instead of shorten, her life. What strange beings we are! I felt relie
ved by writing & even smiled at the thing. But oh! It is, or was, a bitter smile. I have promised to tell no one. I will not tell M—. It could do no good & might make her uneasy. She might dread its leading to some discovery. It is a sad business & poor Tib little knows the trouble & tediousness of it. We may none of us get better for years. M— now seems satisfied that it must wear itself out. This proves that whites are surely more infectious than may be generally known.

  For the remainder of 1823, Anne’s life was uneventful. She spent her time riding and attending to her horses, Caradoc and Hotspur. She resumed her studies, of Greek mainly, and continued with her usual programme of intellectual pursuits. She went to church, undertook a little social visiting, attended to one or two alterations on the Shibden estate, and advised her father and Marian on their financial affairs. Her correspondence with M—, Isabella, and one or two other friends, took up a great deal of her time.