August 2009 ~ The Leyland Manor Diary

May 24th, 1763

Last night he came to my room again. I had heard him on the stairs, then the slightly creaking door. Still, when I felt his weight on the bed, I kept my back turned to him, pretending to be asleep. 'My Lady.' he said, touching my shoulder (bare it was, fool that I am not to cover myself properly!). I tried to look very tired, when he turned me towards him, stroking my chin. It was unbearable feeling his touch. So I opened my eyes, slowly, facing my husband´s tender look resting on my face. It´s true, it made my spine shiver and my fingers tremble and my heart ache. But I do not want him. Especially not so close to me. He must have seen this rejection written on my face, for he cupped my cheek with his left hand; very warm, stroking it with his thumb. I´m sure I stared at him. How cold it was I can´t recall, but he let go off me and left me for good that night; only mumbling 'Good night, my Lady.', before he closed the door. I shall thank him for that, I suppose.
When I came down for breakfast, the parlour was again empty and the table only prepared for me. His Lordship was out riding, he had left a couple of hours ago, I was told. And it was just half past eight when I came down.

May 23rd, 1763

After having ordered me to dine with him, Lord C. preferred not to join me for our first shared dinner. I entered the Little Parlour opposite his study, but the table was only supplied with one set. HE wasn´t even at home.
I had some soup, a bit of mutton and wine and went upstairs to my room. - I don´t know why, but I felt neglected. Am I such a spoiled creature? To miss something only in the moment when it´s not at hand? That this should be my husband? Dear me!
Today we had our breakfast together. The room was very bright and friendly this morning. We have uncommon good weather for this time of year and the part of the country. I should be happy, I presume. As far as my family is concerned, they think me the most fortunate girl ever. The sunny morning was soon tainted by my mothers letter, then my sister Patsy´s and finally, because all good things come in threes, Violet!
'My darling child, how happy you must be. What a wonderful house you have now. I´m delighted to know you shall be so well cared for. Your father sends his regards and hopes you´re well. But of course you´re well. You made the best match of my beloved daughters and you will truly find felicity with your kind Lord.'

- 'Dear sister, I´m sure you´re well and happily settled by now and enjoy your new life as mistress of your own home. If you´ll exercise your inward obedience and keep with self-effacing conversation, I´m sure your husband will find you a most virtuous wife.'

- 'Dearest sister, Sir Tilbrington and I send you our best wishes and we´re sure, you´re going to be a dutiful wife to his Lordship. We expect you two of course in Town this season and I´m looking forward to presenting my charming sister to our circles. By the way, did you get the locket I´ve sent you? And how does the dressing robe become you?'

And so they babbled on and on. Where is my Harriet!?

His Lordship took me out in the phaeton today, for it was sunny and quite warm. His estate is very large and the park very romantically laid out; or so would Harriet think. I do like the small lake and the bridge and the view one has looking at the house. I think I should have shared this with Lord C. It would make him happy to know that I approve of my new home. And it is true. I do. I really do. But I couldn´t mouth a word in his presence. He pointed out this and that and asked questions. I was so impertinent as to answer them all with silence. I guess by the time we came back to the house, he was very disappointed with me and the outing in general. So I went to my room again, crying over my stupid behaviour. And leaving my innocent husband in confusion.

May 22nd, 1763

Today I had to break my fast with my husband. He got tired and annoyed of me keeping to my room and crying and behaving like a little child. Or so he told me. He ordered me to be ready and presentable to take me to church, for it was already a week since our coming to Leyland as husband and wife. One week of marriage. One week of total sorrow. I put on my yellow-striped silk dress with the embroidered fichu around my neck, a black trimmed straw-hat and my black silk neckband with the cross. I had no prayer book with me; it must still be in the boxes in my other room. My cabinet which I haven´t seen until today after church. The service was hardly worth remembering, the vicar being very old and speaking monotonously. I stared across the tiled floor, only mouthing when it came to the singing.
When we came back to the house, I made my excuses, headed for the stairs - thank God, they´re in the Hall and not at the end of the house like at home - but Lord C. called me back; or hissed. I´m not quite sure. His countenance didn´t betray a thing, though I think he´s very angry with me. I shouldn't be so self-centred; he`s perhaps angry with my parents, marrying me off to him as an amiable, charming young lady that I am obviously not. I think I like this variation better... So he took me on something like a tour of the house: showing me the Little Parlour, where we will have our breakfasts and dinners (where I HAVE to join him, he ordered), the Ladies' Withdrawing Chamber next to the Great Parlour.
(It was his mother´s, now it is mine and also the Music Room, though the harpsichord is in the grander chamber.) He left me there, explaining, that the little saloon across my bedchamber is my private one, my Cabinet. His study is on the Ground Floor, where he was going then; estate matters. So I was ordered by the Master of the house to accompany him at least twice a day. And still, I´m grateful he allowed me my privacy and my own apartment; right on the opposite end of the house where he´s going to spend most of his day, when not riding over the estate or being at the stables...
I went straight to this Cabinet, a delightful room, which I had not expected. It was still in the style of his mother. But her taste was very refined indeed. I must admit, I like the room and find it a comfortable retreat for my days. Some oil and gouache paintings are displayed on the crimson walls; Lord C.s parents or at least his father must have commissioned them after his Grand Tour or bought them right there in Italy; places I will never even dream of being able to visit myself. How delightful it is, being kept in a golden cage with a view! The ceiling´s plaster work is very elaborate, the leaves and flowers and grapes again displayed in the carpet, the upholstered chairs and the Ottoman at the window. They're facing the garden and overlooking the small lake with its bridge. All in all, Leyland is a very beautiful place. The only thing not matching this scenery is me. I'm a black spot on this idyllic painting. An unintended scrape by the artist, one he forgot to paint over; now the oil is dry and the picture not to be revised?
As I write this, I can review an eventful day: I unpacked my things. My books, my sheets for the harp and the harpsichord, which I already have brought downstairs to the respective instruments; hearing Lord C. talking to his steward (whose name I have not the slightest idea of). I found writing paper with my new name on it in the desk drawer in my cabinet. How strange it looks and worse, it feels, to be now Lady Emmeline Cartwright. I went on with composing a letter to Harriet. I had one from her two days ago from Bath and have not yet answered, the selfish wretch that I am. A bad friend indeed. I must make amends!

Leyland, May 17th, 1763

I went to bed last night at about twelve. The storm hadn´t ceased at all, howling in the trees close to the house. I heard the rain lashing the windows behind the inner shutters and drawn curtains. It was impossible to fall asleep, although I was terribly tired. I lay awake for half an hour, when the door opened and in came his Lordship. He saw me looking at him incredulously and instantly froze on the spot. I heard him taking a deep breath and he came towards the bed stopping at the bedpost, still holding my gaze; or stare. I do not know which. He frowned at it, sat down on the edge of the bed, not leaving my face and reaching for my hand. 'I will respect it, my Lady, if you do not wish me to stay... tonight.' I couldn´t breath. I only recall me removing my left hand from his and turning away. He got up the bed and quietly left the chamber.
I think I cried myself into sleep. When I woke up this morning, my head ached worse than ever. Jenna had stirred the fire, brought me tea and some scones. The shutters were open, the curtains only partly withdrawn from the windows, so the light was bearable enough. I felt sick, still do. I haven´t eaten anything and only drunk a cup of tea that was already grown cold by then.
Unfortunately I cannot lock my door. There are no keys for any door in my apartment. But Jenna came in only twice the whole day. Each time bringing and removing the meal I didn´t touch and the master's concern for my well-being.
It is dark again already and the only thing I feel myself being able to do is writing this and telling my sole confidante in this house, this diary, how unhappy I am, and sad. I feel like I´m eight years old and am forbidden to play outside because its too cold, muddy, too hot, too windy or whatsoever my nurse made up to keep me at my needlework or the harp lesson. And it is night again, the time of day I think I will dread the most, for only God knows how long. I had a bath earlier to lessen my headache, to rest a bit and most of all to becalm my eyes. I cried all day. I don´t know how to stop this misery and this self-pity. I embraced it too willingly...

May 17th, 1763

Today is Lord C's birthday. I was told by Mrs. Lewis, who also informed me, that his Lordship is not celebrating either birthday or name day, but giving some money and food to the servants of Leyland and the poor in the neighbourhood.

Leyland, May 16th, 1763

My mother and Patsy told me, that HE would come to my chamber in our wedding night, sharing the bed with me. And that I should encourage him in every way. Whatever that means! He did not, however, even knock on my door last night. I wasn´t unhappy about it. Why should I want him to sleep next to me. He might snore. Or touch me; and I´m not wearing gloves or long sleeves like in the carriage or at the wedding... I had some breakfast in my room, when Jenna, my new maid, came and dressed me for the last day of our journey to Leyland. It was stormy and I had hopes we might have to stay on the road another night. It scares me almost to death to imagine arriving at the Great House, which is to be my new home. I scarcely can recollect what I feel about my old one. When we passed the crossroad, where Wilcox Lane leads to *** the sky got darker by the minute, getting more frightening with every mile we covered. Jolting up the drive of Leyland Manor, it was pouring down mercilessly, leaving us no chance to get out of the carriage sooner than the footmen came with umbrellas to escort us inside. It was then, that he took my hand. And I, stupidly, looked at him, seeing his warm, encouraging smile, welcoming me at his - now our - home. Of course, the tears flooded my eyes. So fast, I couldn´t quickly enough turn away and his Lordship embraced me, murmuring something I didn´t understand so overwhelmed was I by his scent. I never have smelled anything like that. How weak I am! He could have told me anything, I would have believed it right away. And again, God saved me and the door was pulled open and he released me. I wasn´t able to flee very far however. And now I´m in my bedchamber and though its mid May I´m sitting at the fire, in nightgown and dressing robe - writing this.
It is ironic that this attire should suit this room so perfectly. Violet purchased my new dressing robe in London, already last year, when my family intended me for the late Lord C. It is of turquoise silk, embroidered with exotic flowers and little birds, golden trimmed long narrow sleeves. And here I sit in a room with exquisite hand-painted Oriental wallpaper at a Chinese escritoire, perfectly handsome and so lady-like, Jenna informed me. The desk had come just a day before our arrival, Lord C. having purchased it especially for me. A wedding gift! That´s the last thing I needed!*
I didn´t touch the soup, Jenna brought me, which earned some quizzical looks from her, but other than that she left me alone. For that is what I want most. Being alone and left in peace. And there´s the dilemma. Remembering my mother's words of him coming to my room and his not coming last night, I fear it will be now. It is his house, he´s the master, and I´m at his every whim. And what if he decides to come here tonight!?

*Auch das noch!

Wortham, May 15th, 1763

My wedding day.

After the wedding breakfast, I bade my family farewell. My father took aside Lord C.; mother came to the carriage door once more and patted my hand. 'I´m very proud of you, my darling girl.' said she, tears in her eyes. I felt pity for her. For all of them. And I was angry. Unbelievably angry. I will not write to them for some time. 'And write to me as often as you can, my dear. You will need some time to get to used to the house and you will have quite a different schedule as a married woman. Don´t forget to be kind, modest and to keep your voice down. You will make your husband a fine, respectable and proper wife, I´m sure of it.' - She wanted to kiss my cheek, but I leaned back against the cushions, averting my eyes. (An exercise I had refined by the time his Lordship and I arrived at an Inn shortly before nightfall.) I had them cast down already when he climbed in the carriage. But I saw him waving his hand towards my parents, who were standing right next to my window. 'We can invite them for a couple of weeks in the summer or for the shooting in autumn. Your father will be happy to rid me of some of my birds or go stag hunting, I daresay' he said; I could hear the smile in his voice. 'Don´t be too sad, my dear. Your family is not that far away. Two days with a carriage. You will see them as often as you please.' And he wanted to take my hand in his, but I withdrew it by brushing a curl, that wasn´t there, behind my ear and kept looking down and then out of the window. On the other hand I´m glad to get away. Now I know what Harriet meant of freeing herself from her family. They neither understood her, nor wanted to. And now, I did not care about them back at Wortham.

Lord C. tried to coax me into some conversation a couple of times, but ceased after noticing that I was set on stubbornness not talking to him, or anybody. I felt rude. But I couldn´t bring myself to admit that I´m his now, until the day I die. I still cannot. It is past midnight, I´m still writing this, the candle left on my table barely letting me see what I am writing. I want to cry, but dare not, because he could hear me. His room is right next to mine. I can see the light still in his chamber beneath the door. I´m tired, my head aches and breathing isn´t an easy task, for I keep the tears back. Oh please, let him go to sleep, so I can find it as well!

May 14th, 1763

Tomorrow is my wedding day...
How delighted my mother was this morning. She had an angel's smile on her lips, my sister Patsy joined her. Both coming to my chamber, wanting to talk to me about something serious.

They left me alone for the rest of the day, but secured all comfort for me and the servants coming and going and leaving treats around me like I'm a child to be spoiled before she gets her tooth pulled out.

I was looking out of my window all day long, rather like a prisoner consoled by my solitude.

Lord C. came the day before. He's with my father all the time in the library, only occasionally joined by my brother. Last night we had a big family dinner and music and cards afterwards. He was very polite and kind I think. I didn't so much as speak a word to him.

Now I am in my room again, it's very late and I have not the slightest idea how to find some sleep. For some reason it seems as if the clock is running towards tomorrow. The time is flowing so fast, that I'm seriously frightened I won't have any left.

Letter to Fitzwilliam Cartwright

Bath, May 11th 1763

My dear Nephew,
I am very happy to wish you all the best and happiness to your upcoming marriage. I am sure the young lady will be a good wife to you as you described her virtues to me so expressively. Your cousin is not able to attend. He is a very sensitive boy not to leave his aunt when she is ill. We arrived at our accommodation in Bath last week and already the waters do me good. I thank you for your kind letter. You are a good boy! And you will be a very good husband indeed, as was your father to your mother, may they rest in peace.
It is your legacy now to care for Leyland, our beloved home and its inhabitants, and soon with a mistress too. Be kind and understanding. Many a young lady today is very drawn into romances and novels but aren't properly prepared for their role as wife and mistress of a house. I hope to meet your lady soon and wish you all my heart can wish you for your happiness!

Yours, affectionate aunt
S. C.

May 10th, 1763

I'm seriously getting more and more nervous.
Not only Mother and Mrs. P are getting on my nerves and bustling around me all the time, but also J is not himself.
Somehow I think they're looking forward to get rid of me.

May 6th, 1763

Mother is asking me every time the post came if I had a letter from Lord C.
She annoys me. Seriously.
I had no letter. Not since the small package arrived weeks ago.
But I do know, that he wrote to my father. So why is Mother so keen on having me getting a letter? I wouldn't know what to answer him anyway.

May 5th, 1763

The wedding preparations have their claws on me again.

April 30th, 1763

I visited Mr. Walker today. I waited for half an hour in the Parlour, went in search for him through the Hall, then into the Court and over to the kitchen, only to find out he is still in the Chapel; so I made my way back, found the entryway locked and had to go back through all the rooms again and out onto the main lawn and over to the Chapel. There he was, completely unaware that he had visitors. His staff must have forgotten to inform him about my presence he supposed. Then, ages later and back in the Parlour, his footman found us, out of breath and informed him that he tried to find him in order to tell him about his visitor; who, by the way, had found the master of the house herself.
When the poor man had left, Mr. Walker started grumbling a while over the footmen taxes he had to pay and didn't see why one Guinea per head and year still doesn't keep his estate up in perfect shape.
By that time and when the housekeeper herself brought the long anticipated tea, I had quite forgotten why I was there anyway. - When I made my farewells I fortunately thanked him for the wonderful evening we all had at his house and he was very happy to accentuate that sometime his staff does work as they are supposed to.

April 29th, 1763

This morning we had bad timing for our outing. We went riding right after breakfast and intended a picnic at Parker's Lodge. But out of a sudden we were almost drowned by the heavy rain no one had expected. We lost our way, sunk into the deep mud, Mrs. P had - of course - to tumble off her mount and J had problems getting her up again and on the horse. But in the end we safely negotiated through the flood and made our way home.

April 26th, 1763

The dinner was superb. I can't recall any evening lately when I had so much fun.
We also had a practical charade with a curtain, some costumes to cover our evening dresses and to be appropriately dressed in our roles. There were also some card games, J was battling poor Mr. Walker in a chess game and later we all battled at the refreshment table for tea and sweets and some cold meat.
Came home late at about eleven thirty.

April 25th, 1763

Our gentlemen had invited some friends for cricket and refreshments this afternoon. They stayed for dinner and we had quite an interesting evening. It was very informal though, but we danced a bit later that night. We were four couples, not counting my parents who refused to join, but watched us from the salon. Mrs. Drawing's daughter Emanuelle played the piano and we had a few very charming country dances.

Tomorrow we are invited for dinner at Mr.Walker's, who is positively lonely so far from the village. He invited half the neighbourhood I presume and his poor housekeeper who is not used to so many visitors will have to murder all their unwanted spider lodger below the curtains to leave a mark of her priceless housekeeping abilities.

April 23rd, 1763

Today we three had a donkey race.
Mrs. P's donkey against J's horse Raider and me on my old mare Carolynne.
Mrs. P and I were watching J later leaping a ditch, which he did forbid us to do. So we had to go all the way to the bridge and cross the small stream. Well, Mrs. P would never even dream of doing anything so outrageous, but I was tempted...
Raider did spook Mrs. P's donkey later on our outing and she was tumbling a great deal, then it run off with her, J racing after his wife, who still had problems controlling the beast. It slowed down and coming to a halt eventually and Mrs. P rolled off her donkey. J rescued her skirt by picking her up very gentlemanly.

April 21st, 1763

J harnessed two donkeys, he had lately bought, to a small carriage. He said, that because of their size, they are more suitable for us ladies to handle and ride them. I still prefer the horses, but Mrs. P was never happier and enjoys her outing in the park every sunny morning from now on.

But as these creatures are notoriously obstinate she was a mess after her first riding out this afternoon. She tried to get her donkey across a stream, which it didn't want to obviously and J had to combine his efforts with those of Peter to lead the creature back to the stables.

But Mrs. P is not to be trifled with, she will ride out tomorrow again.

April 20th, 1763

Today I went fishing with Jeremiah. We were talking about our summers before his marriage and tried to catch a carp or a gudgeon. Though I had only a long twig and a line made of horse hair, I got two more fish than my brother.

April 15th, 1763

One month left.
With a short note accompanying it, I received a little package today with the morning post from Leyland. It was from Lord C. who requested me to wear this necklace formerly owned by his mother. It is a fair and very beautiful golden necklace with a small cross adorned by tiny rubies. I didn´t show it anyone, primarily not to Mrs. P who was in a mood today. The baby is better and also Jeremiah has gotten back to his jovial disposition. What darkens her humour is unfathomable. She was still in a temper after dinner and having to stay in the saloon with her, until the gentlemen joined, us was galling.

April 13th, 1763

The preparations for the wedding were carried on today. The dressmaker came for some fitting and Mrs. P is her old self again, making good advices as not look better than herself. She is still envious of the lace I´ll wear at the ceremony. It is actually amusing how fretfully she grudges me this piece of fabric.

Letter to Lord C.

Wortham Hall, April 10th, 1763

Dear Sir,

in writing you this, my family thanks you for your sympathy. Let me assure you that Mr. Porter´s son is on the mend and will soon be at his best again. We had additional prayers today at the service.

My father wishes me to tell you that we all are indeed indebted to your kindness and solicitousness and sends you his best wishes.

E.P.

Leyland Manor, April 4th, 1763

J received a letter from home, urging him and Mrs. P to return, as their infant son had caught cold and was very weak. Mother was desolate and begged my father to go home as well. As sorry I am for the little boy, the more thankful I am for his perfect timing. Lord C. was worried about the baby and helped arranging everything for our departure. We set out this afternoon, reaching the -Inn at ten to stay the night.

April 7th, 1763

His Lordship sent a letter to my father, inquiring after the baby´s health and his concern for it´s well-being. Father eyed me while reading it aloud to the others at the breakfast table. 'He´s a very fine young man, Emmeline. He´ll be an amicable, congenial and solicitous husband to you, my child.' - I do not doubt that. I only doubt that I ever could be such a wife for him.

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