Chapter 11

Piozzi's attentions had attracted Johnson's notice without troubling his peace. On November 24th, 1781, he wrote from Ashbourne: "Piozzi, I find, is coming in spite of Miss Harriet's prediction, or second sight, and when _he_ comes and _I_ come, you will have two about you that love you; and I question if either of us heartily care how few more you have. But how many soever they may be, I hope you keep your kindness for me, and I have a great mind to have Queeny's kindness too."

Again, December 3rd, 1781: "You have got Piozzi again, notwithstanding pretty Harriet's dire denunciations. The Italian translation which he has brought, you will find no great accession to your library, for the writer seems to understand very little English. When we meet we can compare some passages. Pray contrive a multitude of good things for us to do when we meet. Something that may _hold all together_; though if any thing makes _me_ love you more, it is going from you."

We learn from "Thraliana," that the entanglement with Piozzi was not the only one of which Streatham was contemporaneously the scene:

"_August,_ 1781.--I begin to wish in good earnest that Miss Burney should make impression on Mr. Crutchley. I think she honestly loves the man, who in his turn appears to be in love with some one else--Hester, I fear, Oh! that would indeed be unlucky! People have said so a long while, but I never thought it till now; young men and women will always be serving one so, to be sure, if they live at all together, but I depended on Burney keeping him steady to herself. Queeny behaves like an angel about it. Mr. Johnson says the name of Crutchley comes from _croix lea_, the cross meadow; _lea_ is a meadow, I know, and _crutch_, a crutch stick, is so called from having the handle go _crosswise_."

"_September,_ 1781.--My five fair daughters too! I have so good a pretence to wish for long life to see them settled. Like the old fellow in 'Lucian,' one is never at a loss for an excuse. They are five lovely creatures to be sure, but they love not me. Is it my fault or theirs?"

"_12th October_, 1781.--Yesterday was my wedding-day; it was a melancholy thing to me to pass it without the husband of my youth.

"'Long tedious years may neither moan, Sad, deserted, and alone; May neither long condemned to stay Wait the second bridal day!!!'[1]

"Let me thank God for my children, however, my fortune, and my friends, and be contented if I cannot be happy."

[Footnote 1: _Note by Mrs. T._: "Samuel Wesley's verses, making part of an epithalamium."]

"_15th October_, 1781.--My maid Margaret Rice dreamed last night that my eldest daughter was going to be married to Mr. Crutchley, but that Mr. Thrale _himself_ prevented her. An odd thing to me, who think Mr. Crutchley is his son."

Although the next day but one after Thrale's death Johnson carried Boswell to dine at the Queen's Arms' Club, his grief was deep and durable. Indeed, it is expressed so often and so earnestly as to rebut the presumption that "my mistress" was the sole or chief tie which bound him to Streatham. Amongst his Prayers and Meditations is the following:

"_Good Friday, April 13th_, 1781.--On Wednesday, 11th, was buried my dear friend Thrale, who died on Wednesday, 4th; and with him were buried many of my hopes and pleasures. About five, I think, on Wednesday morning, he expired. I felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for the last time upon the face that for fifteen years had never been turned upon me but with respect or benignity. Farewell. May God, that delighteth in mercy, have had mercy on thee! I had constantly prayed for him some time before his death. The decease of him, from whose friendship I had obtained many opportunities of amusement, and to whom I turned my thoughts as to a refuge from misfortunes, has left me heavy. But my business is with myself."

On the same paper is a note: "My first knowledge of Thrale was in 1765. I enjoyed his favours for almost a fourth part of my life."

On the 20th March, 1782, he wrote thus to Langton:

"Of my life, from the time we parted, the history is mournful. The spring of last year deprived me of Thrale, a man whose eye for fifteen years had scarcely been turned upon me but with respect or tenderness; for such another friend, the general course of human things will not suffer man to hope. I passed the summer at Streatham, but there was no Thrale; and having idled away the summer with a weakly body and neglected mind, I made a journey to Staffordshire on the edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was sickly, and found the friends sickly whom I went to see."

There is ample evidence that he neither felt nor suspected any diminution of kindness or regard, and continued, till their final departure from Streatham, to treat it as his home.

In November she writes, "Do not forget Streatham and its inhabitants, who are all much yours;" and he replies:

"Birmingham, Dec. 8th, 1781.

"DEAR MADAM,--I am come to this place on my way to London and to Streatham. I hope to be in London on Tuesday or Wednesday, and Streatham on Thursday, by your kind conveyance. I shall have nothing to relate either wonderful or delightful. But remember that you sent me away, and turned me out into the world, and you must take the chance of finding me better or worse. This you may know at present, that my affection for you is not diminished, and my expectation from you is increased. Do not neglect me, nor relinquish me. Nobody will ever love you better or honour you more."

"Feb. 16th, 1782.

"DEAREST LADY,--I am better, but not yet well; but hope springs eternal. As soon as I can think myself not troublesome, you may be sure of seeing me, _for such a place to visit nobody ever had_. Dearest Madam, do not think me worse than I am; be sure, at least, that whatever happens to me, I am with all the regard that admiration of excellence and gratitude for kindness can excite, Madam, your" &c.

In "Thraliana":

"_23rd February, 1782 (Harley Street)_.--The truth is, Mr. Johnson has some occult disorder that I cannot understand; Jebb and Bromfield fancy it is water between the heart and pericardium--I do not think it is _that_, but I do not know what it is. He apprehends no danger himself, and he knows more of the matter than any of them all."

On February 27th, 1782, he writes to Malone: "I have for many weeks been so much out of order, that I have gone out only in a coach to Mrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom that sickness requires."

On March 20th, 1782, to Mrs. Grastrell and Mrs. Aston: "When Dr. Falconer saw me, I was at home only by accident, for I lived much with Mrs. Thrale, and had all the care from her that she could take or could be taken."

April 26th, 1782, to Mrs. Thrale:

"MADAM,--I have been very much out of order since you sent me away; but why should I tell you, who do not care, nor desire to know? I dined with Mr. Paradise on Monday, with the Bishop of St. Asaph yesterday, with the Bishop of Chester I dine to-day, and with the Academy on Saturday, with Mr. Hoole on Monday, and with Mrs. Garrick on Thursday, the 2nd of May, and then--what care you? _What then_?

"The news run, that we have taken seventeen French transports; that Langton's lady is lying down with her eighth child, all alive; and Mrs. Carter's Miss Sharpe is going to marry a schoolmaster sixty-two years old.

"Do not let Mr. Piozzi nor any body else put me quite out of your head, and do not think that any body will love you like your" &c.

"April 30th, 1782.

"Mrs. Sheridan refused to sing, at the Duchess of Devonshire's request, a song to the Prince of Wales. They pay for the Theatre neither principal nor interest; and poor Garrick's funeral expenses are yet unpaid, though the undertaker is broken. Could you have a better purveyor for a little scandal? But I wish I was at Streatham. I beg Miss to come early, and I may perhaps reward you with more mischief."

She went to Streatham on the 18th April, 1782, and Johnson evidently with her. In "Thraliana" she writes:

"_Saturday, 9th May, 1782._--To-day I bring home to Streatham my poor Dr. Johnson: he went to town a week ago by the way of amusing himself, and got so very ill that I thought I should never get him home alive,"--by _home_ meaning Streatham.

Johnson to Mrs. Thrale:

"June 4th, 1782.

"This day I dined upon skate, pudding, goose, and your asparagus, and could have eaten more, but was prudent. Pray for me, dear Madam; I hope the tide has turned. The change that I feel is more than I durst have hoped, or than I thought possible; but there has not yet passed a whole day, and I may rejoice perhaps too soon. Come and see me, and when you think best, upon due consideration, take me away."

From her to him:

"Streatham, June 14th, 1782.

"DEAR SIR,--I am glad you confess yourself peevish, for confession must precede amendment. Do not study to be more unhappy than you are, and if you can eat and sleep well, do not be frighted, for there can be no real danger. Are you acquainted with Dr. Lee, the master of Baliol College? And are you not delighted with his gaiety of manners and youthful vivacity now that he is eighty-six years old? I never heard a more perfect or excellent pun than his, when some one told him how, in a late dispute among the Privy Counsellors, the Lord Chancellor (Thurlow) struck the table with such violence that he split it. 'No, no,' replied the Master, drily, 'I can hardly persuade myself that he _split the table_, though I believe he _divided the Board_.' Will you send me anything better from Oxford than this? for there must be no more fastidiousness now; no more refusing to laugh at a good quibble, when you so loudly profess the want of amusement and the necessity of diversion."

From him to her:

"Oxford, June 17th, 1782.

"Oxford has done, I think, what for the present it can do, and I am going slyly to take a place in the coach for Wednesday, and you or my sweet Queeny will fetch me on Thursday, and see what you can make of me."

Hannah More met him during this visit to Oxford, and writes, June 13th, 1782: "Who do you think is my principal cicerone at Oxford? only Dr. Johnson! and we do so gallant it about."

Madame D'Arblay, then at Streatham, writes, June 26th, 1782: "Dr. Johnson, who had been in town some days, returned, and Mr. Crutchley came also, as well as my father." After describing some lively conversation, she adds: "I have _very often_, though I mention them not, long and melancholy discourses with Dr. Johnson, about our dear deceased master, whom, indeed, he regrets unceasingly; but I love not to dwell on subjects of sorrow when I can drive them away, especially to you (her sister), upon this account as you were so much a stranger to that excellent friend, whom you only lamented for the sake of those who survived him." He had only returned that very day, and she had been absent from Streatham, as she states elsewhere, till "the Cecilian business was arranged," _i.e._ till the end of May.

On the 24th August, 1782 (this date is material) Johnson writes to Boswell:

"DEAR SIR,--Being uncertain whether I should have any call this autumn into the country, I did not immediately answer your kind letter. I have no call; but if you desire to meet me at Ashbourne, I believe I can come thither; if you had rather come to London, I can stay at Streatham: take your choice."

This was two days after Mrs. Thrale, with his full concurrence, had made up her mind to let Streatham. He treats it, notwithstanding, as at his disposal for a residence so long as she remains in it.

The books and printed letters from which most of these extracts are taken, have been all along accessible to her assailants. Those from "Thraliana," which come next, are new:

"_25th November_, 1781.--I have got my Piozzi[1] home at last; he looks thin and battered, but always kindly upon me, I think. He brought me an Italian sonnet written in his praise by Marco Capello, which I instantly translated of course; but he, prudent creature, insisted on my burning it, as he said it would inevitably get about the town how _he_ was praised, and how Mrs. Thrale translated and echoed the praises, so that, says he, I shall be torn in pieces, and you will have some _infamità_ said of you that will make you hate the sight of me. He was so earnest with me that I could not resist, so burnt my sonnet, which was actually very pretty; and now I repent I did not first write it into the Thraliana. Over leaf, however, shall go the translation, which happens to be done very closely, and the last stanza is particularly exact. I must put it down while I remember it:

1.

"'Favoured of Britain's pensive sons, Though still thy name be found, Though royal Thames where'er he runs Returns the flattering sound,

2.

Though absent thou, on every joy Her gloom privation flings, And Pleasure, pining for employ, Now droops her nerveless wings,

3.

Yet since kind Fates thy voice restore To charm our land again[2],-- Return not to their rocky shore, Nor tempt the angry main.

4.

Nor is their praise of so much worth, Nor is it justly given, That angels sing to them on earth Who slight the road to heaven.'

"He tells me--Piozzi does--that his own country manners greatly disgusted him, after having been used to ours; but Milan is a comfortable place, I find. If he does not fix himself for life here, he will settle to lay his bones at Milan. The Marquis D'Araciel, his friend and patron, who resides there, divides and disputes his heart with me: I shall be loth to resign it."

[Footnote 1: This mode of expression did not imply then what it might now. See _ante_, p. 92, where Johnson writes to "my Baretti."]

[Footnote 2: "Capello is a Venetian poet."]

"_17th December, 1781._--Dear Mr. Johnson is at last returned; he has been a vast while away to see his country folks at Litchfield. My fear is lest he should grow paralytick,--there are really some symptoms already discoverable, I think, about the mouth particularly. He will drive the gout away so when it comes, and it must go _somewhere_. Queeny works hard with him at the classicks; I hope she will be _out_ of leading-strings at least before he gets _into_ them, as poor women say of their children."

"_1st January, 1782._--Let me not, while censuring the behaviour of others, however, give cause of censure by my own. I am beginning a new year in a new character. May it be worn decently yet lightly! I wish not to be rigid and fright my daughters by too much severity. I will not be wild and give them reason to lament the levity of my life. Resolutions, however, are vain. To pray for God's grace is the sole way to obtain it--'Strengthen Thou, O Lord, my virtue and my understanding, preserve me from temptation, and acquaint me with myself; fill my heart with thy love, restrain it by thy fear, and keep my soul's desires fixed wholly on that place where only true joys are to be found, through Jesus Christ our Lord,--Amen.'"

_January_, 1782.--(After stating her fear of illness and other ills.) "_If_ nothing of all these misfortunes, however, befall one; _if_ for my sins God should take from me my monitor, my friend, my inmate, my dear Doctor Johnson; _if_ neither I should marry, nor the brewhouse people break; _if_ the ruin of the nation should not change the situation of affairs so that one could not receive regular remittances from England: and _if_ Piozzi should not pick him up a wife and fix his abode in this country,--_if_, therefore, and _if_ and _if_ and _if_ again all should conspire to keep my present resolution warm, I certainly would, at the close of the four years from the sale of the Southwark estate, set out for Italy, with my two or three eldest girls, and see what the world could show me."

In a marginal note, she adds:

"Travelling with Mr. Johnson _I_ cannot bear, and leaving him behind _he_ could not bear, so his life or death must determine the execution or laying aside my schemes. I wish it were within reason to _hope_ he could live four years."

"_Streatham, 4th January_, 1782.--I have taken a house in Harley Street for these three months next ensuing, and hope to have some society,--not company tho': crowds are out of the question, but people will not come hither on short days, and 'tis too dull to live all alone so. The world will watch me at first, and think I come o' husband-hunting for myself or my fair daughters, but when I have behaved prettily for a while, they will change their mind."

"_Harley Street, 14th January_, 1782.--The first seduction comes from Pepys. I had a letter to-day desiring me to dine in Wimpole Street, to meet Mrs. Montagu and a whole _army of blues_, to whom I trust my refusal will afford very pretty speculation ... and they may settle my character and future conduct at their leisure. Pepys is a worthless fellow at last; he and his brother run about the town, spying and enquiring what Mrs. Thrale is to do this winter, what friends she is to see, what men are in her confidence, how soon she will be _married_, &c.; the brother Dr.--the Medico, as we call him--lays wagers about me, I find; God forgive me, but they'll make me hate them both, and they are no better than two fools for their pains, for I was willing to have taken them to my heart."

"They say Pacchierotti, the famous soprano singer, is ill, and _they say_ Lady Mary Duncan, his frightful old protectress, has made him so by her _caresses dénaturées_. A little envy of the new woman, Allegrante, has probably not much mended his health, for Pacchierotti, dear creature, is envious enough. I was, however, turning over Horace yesterday, to look for the expression _tenui fronte_[1], in vindication of my assertion to Johnson that low foreheads were classical, when the 8th Ode of the First Book of Horace struck me so, I could not help imitating it while the scandal was warm in my mind:

1.

"'He's sick indeed! and very sick, For if it is not all a trick You'd better look about ye. Dear Lady Mary, prythee tell Why thus by loving him too well You kill your Pacchierotti?

2.

Nor sun nor dust can he abide, Nor careless in a snaffle ride, The steed we saw him mount ill. _You_ stript him of his manly force, When tumbling headlong from his horse He pressed the plains of Fonthill.[2]

3.

Why the full opera should he shun? Where crowds of critics smiling run, To applaud their Allegrante. Why is it worse than viper's sting, To see them clap, or hear her sing? Surely he's envious, ain't he?

4.

Forbear his house, nor haunt his bed With that strange wig and fearful head, Then, though he now so ill is, We o'er his voice again may doze, When, cover'd warm with women's clothes, He acts a young Achilles.'"

[Footnote 1: Insignem tenui fronte Lycorida Cyri torret amor--

But _tenuis_ is _small_ or _narrow_ rather than _low_. One of Fielding's beauties, Sophia Western, has a low forehead: another, Fanny, a high one.]

[Footnote 2: _Note by Mrs. T.:_ "Fonthill, the seat of young Beckford. They set him o' horseback, and he tumbled off."]

"_1st February, 1782._--Here is Mr. Johnson ill, very ill indeed, and--I do not see what ails him; 'tis repelled gout, I fear, fallen on the lungs and breath of course. What shall we do for him? If I lose _him_, I am more than undone; friend, father, guardian, confident!--God give me health and patience. What shall I do?"

"_Harley Street, 13th April, 1782._--When I took off my mourning, the watchers watched me very exactly, 'but they whose hands were mightiest have found nothing:' so I shall leave the town, I hope, in a good disposition towards me, though I am sullen enough with the town for fancying me such an amorous idiot that I am dying to enjoy every filthy fellow. God knows how distant such dispositions are from the heart and constitution of H.L.T. Lord Loughboro', Sir Richard Jebb, Mr. Piozzi, Mr. Selwyn, Dr. Johnson, every man that comes to the house, is put in the papers for me to marry. In good time, I wrote to-day to beg the 'Morning Herald' would say no more about me, good or bad."

"_Streatham, 17th April, 1782._--I am returned to Streatham, pretty well in health and very sound in heart, notwithstanding the watchers and the wager-layers, who think more of the charms of their sex by half than I who know them better. Love and friendship are distinct things, and I would go through fire to serve many a man whom nothing less than fire would force me to go to bed to. Somebody mentioned my going to be married t'other day, and Johnson was joking about it. I suppose, Sir, said I, they think they are doing me honour with these imaginary matches, when, perhaps the man does not exist who would do me honour by marrying me! This, indeed, was said in the wild and insolent spirit of Baretti, yet 'tis nearer the truth than one would think for. A woman of passable person, ancient family, respectable character, uncommon talents, and three thousand a year, has a right to think herself any man's equal, and has nothing to seek but return of affection from whatever partner she pitches on. To marry for love would therefore be rational in me, who want no advancement of birth or fortune, and _till I am in love_, I will not marry, nor perhaps then."

"_22nd August, 1782._--An event of no small consequence to our little family must here be recorded in the 'Thraliana.' After having long intended to go to Italy for pleasure, we are now settling to go thither for convenience. The establishment of expense here at Streatham is more than my income will answer; my lawsuit with Lady Salusbury turns out worse in the event and infinitely more costly than I could have dreamed on; 8000_l._ is supposed necessary to the payment of it, and how am I to raise 8000_l_.? My trees will (after all my expectations from them) fetch but 4000_l_., the money lent Perkins on his bond 1600_l_., the Hertfordshire copyholds may perhaps be worth 1000_l_., and where is the rest to spring from? I must go abroad and save money. To show Italy to my girls, and be showed it by Piozzi, has long been my dearest wish, but to leave Mr. Johnson shocked me, and to take him appeared impossible. His recovery, however, from an illness we all thought dangerous, gave me courage to speak to him on the subject, and this day (after having been let blood) I mustered up resolution to tell him the necessity of changing a way of life I had long been displeased with. I added that I had mentioned the matter to my eldest daughter, whose prudence and solid judgment, unbiassed by passion, is unequalled, as far as my experience has reached; that she approved the scheme, and meant to partake it, though of an age when she might be supposed to form connections here in England--attachments of the tenderest nature; that she declared herself free and resolved to follow my fortunes, though perfectly aware temptations might arise to prevent me from ever returning--a circumstance she even mentioned herself.

"Mr. Johnson thought well of the project, and wished me to put it early in execution: seemed less concerned at parting with me than I wished him: thought his pupil Miss Thrale quite right in forbearing to marry young, and seemed to entertain no doubt of living to see us return rich and happy in two or three years' time. He told Hester in my absence that he would not go with me if I asked him. See the importance of a person to himself. I fancied Mr. Johnson could not have existed without me, forsooth, as we have now lived together for above eighteen years. I have so fondled him in sickness and in health. Not a bit of it. He feels nothing in parting with me, nothing in the least; but thinks it a prudent scheme, and goes to his books as usual. This is philosophy and truth; he always said he hated a _feeler_....