Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2), Frances Ann Kemble [i can read book club .txt] 📗
- Author: Frances Ann Kemble
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Mayows To-Morrow; An Evening Party On Monday; Tuesday, The Opera;
Wednesday I Act Isabella; Thursday, A Dinner At Mr. Harness's;
Friday I Act Bianca; Saturday We Have A Dinner Party At Home; The
Monday Following I Act Constance; Tuesday There Is A Dance At The
Fitzhughs'; And Sundry Dissipations Looming In The Horizon.
Good-By, And God Bless You, My Dear H----. I Look Forward To Our
Meeting At Ardgillan, Three Months Hence, With Delight, And Am
Volume 1 Chapter 20 Pg 148Affectionately Yours,
F. A. K.
A---- And I Begin Our Riding Lessons On Wednesday Next. We Have Got
Pretty Dark-Brown Habits And Red Velvet Waistcoats, And Shall Look
Like Two Nice Little Robin-Redbreasts On Horseback; All I Dread Is
That She May Be Frightened To Death, Which Might Militate Against
Her Enjoyment, Perhaps.
What You Say About My Brother John Is Very True; And Though My
First Care Is For His Life, My Next Is For His Happiness, Which I
Believe More Likely To Be Secured By His Remaining In The Midst Of
Action And Excitement Abroad, Than In Any Steady Pursuit At Home.
My Benefit Was Not As Good As It Ought To Have Been; It Was Not
Sufficiently Advertised, And It Took Place On The Night Of The
Reading Of The Reform Bill, Which Circumstance Was Exceedingly
Injurious To It.
To-Day Is John's Birthday. I Was In Hopes It Might Not Occur To My
Mother, But She Alluded To It Yesterday. I Was Looking At That
Little Sketch Of Him In Her Room This Morning, With A Heavy Heart.
His Lot Seems Now Cast Indeed, And Most Strangely. I Would Give
Anything To See Him And Hear His Voice Again, But I Fear To Wish
Him Back Again Among Us. I Am Afraid That He Would Neither Be Happy
Himself, Nor Make Others So.
GREAT RUSSELL STREET, 1831.
It Is A Long Time, Dear H----, Since I Have Written To You, And I
Feel It So With Self-Reproach. To-Day, Except Paying A Round Of
Visits With My Mother And Acting This Evening, I Have Nothing To
Prevent My Talking With You In Tolerable Peace And Quiet--So Here I
Am. You Have No Idea What A Quantity Of "Things To Be Done" Has
Been Crowded Into The Last Fortnight: Studying Camiola, Rehearsing
For Two Hours And A Half Every Other Day, Riding For Two Hours At A
Time, And Sitting For My Picture Nearly As Long, Running From Place
To Place About My Dresses, And Now Having Lady Teazle And Mrs.
Oakley To _Get Up_, Immediately,--All This, With My Nightly Work Or
Nightly Gayeties, Makes An Amount Of Occupation Of One Sort And
Another That Hardly Leaves Me Time For Thought.
You Will Be Glad To Hear That "The Maid Of Honor" Was Entirely
Successful; That It Will Have A "Great Run," Or Bring Much Money To
The Theater, I Doubt. It Is A _Cold_ Play, According To The Present
Taste Of Audiences, And There Are Undoubted Defects In Its
Construction Which In The Fastidious Judgment Of Our Critics Weigh
Down Its Sterling Beauties.
It Has Done Me Great Service, And To You I May Say That I Think It
The Best Thing I Have Acted. Indeed, I Like My Own Performance Of
It So Well (Which You Know Does Not Often Happen To Me), That I Beg
You Will Make A---- Tell You Something About It. I Was Beautifully
Volume 1 Chapter 20 Pg 149Dressed And Looked Very Nice.
We Have Heard Nothing Of John For Some Time Now, And My Mother Has
Ceased To Express, If Not To Feel, Anxiety About Him, And Seems
Tranquil At Present; But After All She Has Suffered On His Account,
It Is Not, Perhaps, Surprising That She Should Subside Into The
Calm Of Mere Exhaustion From That Cruel Over-Excitement.
Our Appeal Before The Lords, After Having Been Put Off Once This
Week, Will, In Consequence Of The Threatened Dissolution Of
Parliament, Be Deferred _Sine Die_, As The Phrase Is. Oh, What
Weary Work This Is For Those Who Are Tremblingly Waiting For A
Result Of Vital Importance To Their Whole Fate And Fortune! Thank
Heaven, I Am Liberally Endowed With Youth's Peculiar Power And
Privilege Of Disregarding Future Sorrow, And Unless Under The
Immediate Pressure Of Calamity Can Keep The Anticipation Of It At
Bay. My Journal Has Become A Mere Catalogue Of The Names Of People
I Meet And Places I Go To. I Have Had No Time Latterly For Anything
But The Briefest Possible Registry Of My Daily Doings. Mrs. Harry
Siddons Has Taken A Lodging In This Street, Nearly Opposite To Us,
So That I Have The Happiness Of Seeing Her Rather Oftener Than I
Have Been Able To Do Hitherto; The Girls Come Over, Too; And As We
Have Lately Taken To Acting Charades And Proverbs, We Spend Our
Evenings Very Pleasantly Together.
We Are Going To Get Up A Piece Called "Napoleon." I Do Not Mean My
Cousins And Ourselves, But That Prosperous Establishment, Covent
Garden Theatre. Think Of Bonaparte Being Acted! It Makes One Grin
And Shudder.
I Have Been Three Or Four Times To Mr. Pickersgill, And Generally
Sit Two Hours At A Time To Him. I Dare Say He Will Make A Nice
Picture Of Me, But His Anxiety That It Should In No Respect
Resemble Sir Thomas Lawrence's Drawing Amuses Me. I Was In Hopes
That When I Had Done With Him I Should Not Have To Sit To Anybody
For Anything Again. But I Find I Am To Undergo That Boredom For A
Bust By Mr. Turnerelli. I Wish I Could Impress Upon All My Artist
Friends That My Face Is An Inimitable Original Which Nature Never
Intended Should Be Copied. Pazienza! I Must Say, Though, That I
Grudge The Time Thus Spent. I Want To Get On With My Play, But I'm
Afraid For The Next Three Weeks That Will Be Hopeless.
To Add To My Occupations Past, Present, And To Come, Not Having
Enough Of Acting With My Professional Duties In That Line, I Am
Going To Take Part In Some Private Theatricals. Lord Francis
Leveson Wants To Get Up His Version Of Victor Hugo's "Hernani," At
Bridgewater House, And Has Begged Me, As A Favor, To Act The
Heroine; All The Rest Are To Be Amateurs. I Have Consented To This,
Not Knowing Well How To Refuse, Yet For One Or Two Reasons I Almost
Think I Had Better Not Have Done So. I Expect To Be Excessively
Amused By It, But It Will Take Up A Terrible Deal Of My Time, For I
Am Sure They Will Need Rehearsals Without End. I Do Not Know At All
What Our Summer Plans Are; But I Believe We Shall Be Acting In The
Provinces Till September, When If All Things Are Quiet In Paris My
Volume 1 Chapter 20 Pg 150Father Proposes Going Over With Me And One Or Two Members Of The
Covent Garden Company, And Playing There For A Month Or So. I Think
I Should Like That. I Fancy I Should Like Acting To A French
Audience; They Are People Of Great Intellectual Refinement And
Discrimination, And That Is A Pleasant Quality In An Audience. I
Think My Father Seems Inclined To Take A---- With Us And Leave Her
There. A Musical Education Can Nowhere Better Be Obtained, And
Under The Care Of Mrs. Foster, About Whom I Believe I Wrote To You
Once A Long Letter, There Could Be No Anxiety About Her Welfare.
I Showed That Part Of Your Last Letter Which Concerned My Aunt Dall
To Herself, Because I Knew It Would Please Her, And So It Did; And
She Bids Me Tell You That She Values Your Good-Will And Esteem
Extremely, And Should Do Still More If You Did Not _Misbestow So
Much Of Them On Me_.
Emily Fitzhugh Sent Me This Morning A Seal With A Pretty Device, In
Consequence Of My Saying That I Thought It Was Pleasanter To Lean
Upon One's Friends, Morally, Than To Be Leant Upon By Them--An Oak
With Ivy Clinging To It And "Chiedo Sostegno" For The Motto. I Do
Not Think I Shall Use It To Many People, Though.
To-Morrow Sheridan Knowles Dines With Us, To Read A New Play He Has
Written, In Which I Am To Act. In The Evening We Go To Lady Cork's,
Sunday We Have A Dinner-Party Here, Monday I Act Camiola, Tuesday
We Go To Mrs. Harry's, Wednesday I Act Camiola, And Further I Know
Not. Good-By, Dear; Ever Yours,
F. A. K.
The Piece Which I Have Referred To In This Letter, Calling Itself
"Bonaparte," Was A Sensational Melodrama Upon The Fate And Fortunes Of
The Great Emperor, Beginning With His First Exploits As A Young
Artillery Officer, Himself Pointing And Firing The Cannon At Toulon, To
The Last Dreary Agony Of The Heart-Broken Exile Of St. Helena. It Was
Well Put Upon The Stage, And Presented A Series Of Historical Pictures
Of Considerable Interest And Effect, Not A Little Of Which Was Due To
The Great Resemblance Of Mr. Warde, Who Filled The Principal Part, To
The Portraits Of Napoleon. He Had Himself, I Believe, Been In The Army,
And Left It Under The Influence Of A Passion For The Stage, Which His
Dramatic Ability Hardly Justified; For Though He Was A Very Respectable
Actor, He Had No Genius Whatever, And Never Rose Above Irreproachable
Mediocrity. But His Military Training And His Peculiar Likeness To
Bonaparte Helped Him To Make His Part In This Piece Very Striking And
Effective, Though It Was Not In Itself The Merest Peg To Hang
"Situations" On.
I Was At This Time Sitting For My Picture To Mr. Pickersgill, With Whose
Portrait Of My Father In The Part Of
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