Maria; Or, The Wrongs of Woman
the house in the suburbs, where, as she now discovered, her babe had
been sent. The moment she entered, her heart grew sick; but she
wondered not that it had proved its grave. She made the necessary
enquiries, and the church-yard was pointed out, in which it rested
under a turf. A little frock which the nurse’s child wore (Maria had
made it herself) caught her eye. The nurse was glad to sell it for
half-a-guinea, and Maria hastened away with the relic, and, reentering
the hackney-coach which waited for her, gazed on it, till she reached
her hotel.
She then waited on the attorney who had made her uncle’s will, and
explained to him her situation. He readily advanced her some of the
money which still remained in his hands, and promised to take the whole
of the case into consideration. Maria only wished to be permitted to
remain in quiet—She found that several bills, apparently with her
signature, had been presented to her agent, nor was she for a moment at
a loss to guess by whom they had been forged; yet, equally averse to
threaten or intreat, she requested her friend [the solicitor] to call
on Mr. Venables. He was not to be found at home; but at length his
agent, the attorney, offered a conditional promise to Maria, to leave
her in peace, as long as she behaved with propriety, if she would give
up the notes. Maria inconsiderately consented—Darnford was arrived, and
she wished to be only alive to love; she wished to forget the anguish
she felt whenever she thought of her child.
They took a ready furnished lodging together, for she was above
disguise; Jemima insisting on being considered as her house-keeper, and
to receive the customary stipend. On no other terms would she remain
with her friend.
Darnford was indefatigable in tracing the mysterious circumstances of
his confinement. The cause was simply, that a relation, a very distant
one, to whom he was heir, had died intestate, leaving a considerable
fortune. On the news of Darnford’s arrival [in England, a person,
intrusted with the management of the property, and who had the writings
in his possession, determining, by one bold stroke, to strip Darnford
of the succession,] had planned his confinement; and [as soon as he had
taken the measures he judged most conducive to his object, this
ruffian, together with his instrument,] the keeper of the private
mad-house, left the kingdom. Darnford, who still pursued his enquiries,
at last discovered that they had fixed their place of refuge at Paris.
Maria and he determined therefore, with the faithful Jemima, to visit
that metropolis, and accordingly were preparing for the journey, when
they were informed that Mr. Venables had commenced an action against
Darnford for seduction and adultery. The indignation Maria felt cannot
be explained; she repented of the forbearance she had exercised in
giving up the notes. Darnford could not put off his journey, without
risking the loss of his property: Maria therefore furnished him with
money for his expedition; and determined to remain in London till the
termination of this affair.
She visited some ladies with whom she had formerly been intimate, but
was refused admittance; and at the opera, or Ranelagh, they could not
recollect her. Among these ladies there were some, not her most
intimate acquaintance, who were generally supposed to avail themselves
of the cloke of marriage, to conceal a mode of conduct, that would for
ever have damned their fame, had they been innocent, seduced girls.
These particularly stood aloof.—Had she remained with her husband,
practicing insincerity, and neglecting her child to manage an intrigue,
she would still have been visited and respected. If, instead of openly
living with her lover, she could have condescended to call into play a
thousand arts, which, degrading her own mind, might have allowed the
people who were not deceived, to pretend to be so, she would have been
caressed and treated like an honourable woman. “And Brutus[13] is an
honourable man!” said Mark-Antony with equal sincerity.
[13] The name in the manuscript is by mistake written Caesar. EDITOR.
[Godwin’s note]
With Darnford she did not taste uninterrupted felicity; there was a
volatility in his manner which often distressed her; but love gladdened
the scene; besides, he was the most tender, sympathizing creature in
the world. A fondness for the sex often gives an appearance of humanity
to the behaviour of men, who have small pretensions to the reality; and
they seem to love others, when they are only pursuing their own
gratification. Darnford appeared ever willing to avail himself of her
taste and acquirements, while she endeavoured to profit by his decision
of character, and to eradicate some of the romantic notions, which had
taken root in her mind, while in adversity she had brooded over visions
of unattainable bliss.
The real affections of life, when they are allowed to burst forth, are
buds pregnant with joy and all the sweet emotions of the soul; yet they
branch out with wild ease, unlike the artificial forms of felicity,
sketched by an imagination painful alive. The substantial happiness,
which enlarges and civilizes the mind, may be compared to the pleasure
experienced in roving through nature at large, inhaling the sweet gale
natural to the clime; while the reveries of a feverish imagination
continually sport themselves in gardens full of aromatic shrubs, which
cloy while they delight, and weaken the sense of pleasure they gratify.
The heaven of fancy, below or beyond the stars, in this life, or in
those ever-smiling regions surrounded by the unmarked ocean of
futurity, have an insipid uniformity which palls. Poets have imagined
scenes of bliss; but, sencing out sorrow, all the extatic emotions of
the Soul, and even its grandeur, seem to be equally excluded. We dose
over the unruffled lake, and long to scale the rocks which fence the
happy valley of contentment, though serpents hiss in the pathless
desert, and danger lurks in the unexplored wiles. Maria found herself
more indulgent as she was happier, and discovered virtues, in
characters she had before disregarded, while chasing the phantoms of
elegance and excellence, which sported in the meteors that exhale in
the marshes of misfortune. The heart is often shut by romance against
social pleasure; and, fostering a sickly sensibility, grows callous to
the soft touches of humanity.
To part with Darnford was indeed cruel.—It was to feel most painfully
alone; but she rejoiced to think, that she should spare him the care
and perplexity of the suit, and meet him again, all his own. Marriage,
as at present constituted, she considered as leading to immorality—yet,
as the odium of society impedes usefulness, she wished to avow her
affection to Darnford, by becoming his wife according to established
rules; not to be confounded with women who act from very different
motives, though her conduct would be just the same without the ceremony
as with it, and her expectations from him not less firm. The being
summoned to defend herself from a charge which she was determined to
plead guilty to, was still galling, as it roused bitter reflections on
the situation of women in society.
CHAPTER 17
Such was her state of mind when the dogs of law were let loose on her.
Maria took the task of conducting Darnford’s defence upon herself. She
instructed his counsel to plead guilty to the charge of adultery; but
to deny that of seduction.
The counsel for the plaintiff opened the cause, by observing, “that his
client had ever been an indulgent husband, and had borne with several
defects of temper, while he had nothing criminal to lay to the charge
of his wife. But that she left his house without assigning any cause.
He could not assert that she was then acquainted with the defendant;
yet, when he was once endeavouring to bring her back to her home, this
man put the peace-officers to flight, and took her he knew not whither.
After the birth of her child, her conduct was so strange, and a
melancholy malady having afflicted one of the family, which delicacy
forbade the dwelling on, it was necessary to confine her. By some means
the defendant enabled her to make her escape, and they had lived
together, in despite of all sense of order and decorum. The adultery
was allowed, it was not necessary to bring any witnesses to prove it;
but the seduction, though highly probable from the circumstances which
he had the honour to state, could not be so clearly proved.—It was of
the most atrocious kind, as decency was set at defiance, and respect
for reputation, which shows internal compunction, utterly disregarded.”
A strong sense of injustice had silenced every motion, which a mixture
of true and false delicacy might otherwise have excited in Maria’s
bosom. She only felt in earnest to insist on the privilege of her
nature. The sarcasms of society, and the condemnations of a mistaken
world, were nothing to her, compared with acting contrary to those
feelings which were the foundation of her principles. [She therefore
eagerly put herself forward, instead of desiring to be absent, on this
memorable occasion.]
Convinced that the subterfuges of the law were disgraceful, she wrote a
paper, which she expressly desired might be read in court:
“Married when scarcely able to distinguish the nature of the
engagement, I yet submitted to the rigid laws which enslave women, and
obeyed the man whom I could no longer love. Whether the duties of the
state are reciprocal, I mean not to discuss; but I can prove repeated
infidelities which I overlooked or pardoned. Witnesses are not wanting
to establish these facts. I at present maintain the child of a maid
servant, sworn to him, and born after our marriage. I am ready to
allow, that education and circumstances lead men to think and act with
less delicacy, than the preservation of order in society demands from
women; but surely I may without assumption declare, that, though I
could excuse the birth, I could not the desertion of this unfortunate
babe:—and, while I despised the man, it was not easy to venerate the
husband. With proper restrictions however, I revere the institution
which fraternizes the world. I exclaim against the laws which throw the
whole weight of the yoke on the weaker shoulders, and force women, when
they claim protectorship as mothers, to sign a contract, which renders
them dependent on the caprice of the tyrant, whom choice or necessity
has appointed to reign over them. Various are the cases, in which a
woman ought to separate herself from her husband; and mine, I may be
allowed emphatically to insist, comes under the description of the most
aggravated.
“I will not enlarge on those provocations which only the individual can
estimate; but will bring forward such charges only, the truth of which
is an insult upon humanity. In order to promote certain destructive
speculations, Mr. Venables prevailed on me to borrow certain sums of a
wealthy relation; and, when I refused further compliance, he thought of
bartering my person; and not only allowed opportunities to, but urged,
a friend from whom he borrowed money, to seduce me. On the discovery of
this act of atrocity, I determined to leave him, and in the most
decided manner, for ever. I consider all obligations as made void by
his conduct; and hold, that schisms which proceed from want of
principles, can never be healed.
“He received a fortune with me to the amount of five thousand pounds.
On the death of my uncle, convinced that I could provide for my child,
I destroyed the settlement of that fortune. I required none of my
property to be returned to me, nor shall enumerate the sums extorted
from me during six years that we lived together.