Beaux and Belles of England | Page 2

she played Perdita in "The Winter's Tale" before
royalty that she attracted the Prince of Wales, afterward George IV.,
who was then in his eighteenth year. The incidents which follow are so

briefly treated in the memoirs that explanations are necessary to those
who would follow the story of her life.
The performance of the play in which the prince saw her, probably for
the first time, took place on the 3d of December, 1779. It was not until
some months later, during which the prince and Perdita corresponded,
that she consented to meet him at Kew, where his education was being
continued and strict guard kept upon his conduct. During 1780 he urged
his father to give him a commission in the army, but, dreading the
liberty which would result from such a step, the king refused the
request. It was, however, considered advisable to provide the prince
with a small separate establishment in a wing of Buckingham House;
this arrangement taking place On the 1st of January, 1781.
Being now his own master, the prince became a man about town,
attended routs, masquerades, horse-races, identified himself with
politicians detested by the king, set up an establishment for Mrs.
Robinson, gambled, drank, and in a single year spent ten thousand
pounds on clothes. He now openly appeared in the company of Perdita
at places of public resort and amusement; she, magnificently dressed,
driving a splendid equipage which had cost him nine hundred guineas,
and surrounded by his friends. We read that: "To-day she was a
_paysanne,_ with her straw hat tied at the back of her head. Yesterday
she perhaps had been the dressed belle of Hyde Park, trimmed,
powdered, patched, painted to the utmost power of rouge and white
lead; to-morrow she would be the cravated Amazon of the riding-house;
but, be she what she might, the hats of the fashionable promenaders
swept the ground as she passed."
This life lasted about two years, when, just as the prince, on his coming
of age, was about to take possession of Carlton House, to receive
£30,000 from the nation toward paying his debts, and an annuity of
£63,000, he absented himself from Perdita, leaving her in ignorance of
the cause of his change, which was none other than an interest in Mrs.
Grace Dalrymple Elliott.
In the early fervour of his fancy, he had assured Mrs. Robinson his love
would remain unchangeable till death, and that he would prove
unalterable to his Perdita through life. Moreover, his generosity being
heated by passion, he gave her a bond promising to pay her £20,000 on
his coming of age.

On the prince separating from her, Perdita found herself some £7,000 in
debt to tradespeople, who became clamorous for their money, whereon
she wrote to her royal lover, who paid her no heed; but presently she
was visited by his friend, Charles James Fox, when she agreed to give
up her bond in consideration of receiving an annuity of £500 a year.
She would now gladly have gone back to the stage, but that she feared
the hostility of public opinion. Shortly after, she went to Paris, and on
her return to England devoted herself to literature. It was about this
time she entered into relations with Colonel--afterward Sir
Banastre--Tarleton, who was born in the same year as herself, and had
served in the American army from 1776 until the surrender of
Yorktown, on which he returned to England. For many years he sat in
Parliament as the representative of Liverpool, his native town; and in
1817 he gained the grade of lieutenant-general, and was created a
baronet. His friendship with Mrs. Robinson lasted some sixteen years.
It was whilst undertaking a journey on his behalf, at a time when he
was in pecuniary difficulties, that she contracted the illness that
resulted in her losing the active use of her lower limbs. This did not
prevent her from working, and she poured out novels, poems, essays on
the condition of women, and plays. A communication written by her to
John Taylor, the proprietor of the Sun newspaper and author of various
epilogues, prologues, songs, etc., gives a view of her life. This letter,
now published for the first time, is contained in the famous Morrison
collection of autograph letters, and is dated the 5th of October, 1794.
"I was really happy to receive your letter. Your silence gave me no
small degree of uneasiness, and I began to think some demon had
broken the links of that chain which I trust has united us in friendship
for ever. Life is such a scene of trouble and disappointment that the
sensible mind can ill endure the loss of any consolation that renders it
supportable. How, then, can it be possible that we should resign,
without