The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) - Vol. IV | Page 6

others, yet was not obliged to keep them herself. General Tidcomb,
who seems to have been her sincerest friend, took the privilege of an
old acquaintance to correct her ill taste, and the wrong turn she gave
her judgment, in admitting adulation from such wretches, whose praise

could reflect but little honour, and who would be ready to boast of
favours they never received, nor indeed ever endeavoured to obtain.
This salutary council was rejected; she told him, that she did not think
fit to reform a conduct, which she reckoned very innocent; and still
continued to receive the whispers of flatterers, 'till experience taught
her the folly of her behaviour, and she lived to repent her indiscretion.
Her virtue was now nodding, and she was ready to fall into the arms of
any gallant, like mellow fruit, without much trouble in the gathering.
Sir Thomas Skipwith, a character of gaiety of those times, and, who it
seems had theatrical connections, was recommended to her, as being
very able to promote her design in writing for the stage. This knight
was in the 50th year of his age, and in the 60th of his constitution,
when he was first introduced to her, and as he had been a long practised
gallant, he soon made addresses to her, and whether or no this knight,
who was more dangerous to a woman's reputation, than her virtue, was
favoured by her, the world was so much convinced of it, that her
character was now absolutely lost. Sir Thomas was a weak, vain,
conceited coxcomb, who delighted in boasting of his conquests over
women, and what was often owing to his fortune, and station in life, he
imputed to his address, and the elegance of his manner, of both which
he was totally destitute. He even published Mrs. Manley's dishonour,
and from that time our sprightly poetess was considered, by the sober
part of the sex, quite abandoned to all shame.
When her affair with this superannuated knight was over, she soon
engaged in another intrigue, still more prejudicial to her character; for it
was with a married man, one Mr. Tilly, a gentleman of the Law; with
whom she lived a considerable time: while he underwent at home many
of those severe lectures, which the just provocation, and jealousy of his
wife taught her to read him. Mrs. Tilly at last died, and our gallant was
left at his freedom to marry the object of his passion; but unluckily his
finances were in such a situation, that he was obliged to repair them by
marrying a woman of fortune. This was a cruel circumstance; for he
really loved, and doated upon Mrs. Manley, and had the felicity of a
reciprocal passion. She agreed however, in order to repair his fortune,

that he should marry a rich young widow, whom he soon won by the
elegance of his address, while our authoress retired into the country to
spend her days in solitude and sorrow, and bid an everlasting farewel to
the pleasures of love and gallantry. Mr. Tilly did not many years
survive this reparation: his life was rendered miserable at home by the
jealousy of his young wife, who had heard of his affair with Mrs.
Manley; he lost his senses, and died in a deplorable situation.
During her retirement, our authoress, who had a most confirmed
aversion to the Whig ministry, wrote her Atalantis, which was meant as
a representation of the characters of some of those, who had effected
the Revolution. A warrant was granted from the secretary of state's
office, to seize the Printer and Publisher of these volumes. This
circumstance reduced the writer to a very troublesome dilemma; she
could not bear the thoughts that innocent people should suffer on her
account, and she judged it cruel to remain concealed, while they who
were only inferior instruments, were suffering for her. She consulted,
on this occasion, her best friend, general Tidcomb, who, after rallying
her for exposing people, who had never in particular injured her, he
advised her to go into France, and made her an offer of his purse for
that purpose. This advice she rejected, and came to a determined
resolution, that no person should ever suffer on her account. The
general asked her, how she should like to be confined in Newgate? to
which she answered, that she would rather lye in a prison, after having
discharged her conference, than riot in a palace under its reproaches.
The general upon this replied, that these things sounded very heroic,
but there was a great difference between real and imaginary sufferings,
'that she had chosen to declare herself for the Tories, a party, who never
could keep their own, nor other people's secrets, and were ever
forgetful of such as