Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Journal entries: June-August 1833
June 18.—Arrived in London on Monday 10th, by
Liverpool, a prosperous passage of eleven hours. From Liverpool to Leamington,
where we rested two days, the country one continued garden; no beggary, no
poverty. It struck us that the face of the country was much improved since we
last travelled this way. We found invitations waylaying us on our arrival.
June 24.—To-day had a visit from Madame Pasta, more naïve than ever; she
told us she was near getting into prison at Naples, for singing out of Tancredi, Cara Patria; and she said orders were given
to omit the word “liberta” in all her songs. Her
happy temperament shows itself most in her tender affection for her mother and
her daughter; she says that nothing, neither fame nor money, consoles her for
their absence.
Bellini came in, and Pasta, Bellini, and
José went through one act of his Norma.
Bellini was charmed with
José’s voice.
I had a curious scene yesterday: Bentley and Rees
![]()
| 360 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
(of the long firm, Longman & Co.), at the same time, one in the back, the
other in the front drawing-room. Each came to negotiate about my next book;
Bentley is to have it.
Pasta and I were disputing to-day about
reputations, I spoke of her Gloire, she said,
“Gloire passagère,
it is here to-day and gone to-morrow, your’s endures.” I said,
“Je voudrais bien troquer mes chances
avec la posterité, pour la certitude de vêtre influence avec
les contemporains.”
June 28.—To-day, took my girls to Lord Grosvenor’s gallery. At night we went
to a literary party at Lady
Charleville’s. Campbell, the poet, said to me, “I am copying out my
Life of Mrs.
Siddons, for which I am to get a price, which, if any
bookseller had offered me a few years back, I would have flung in his face, and
the MS. into the fire.”
The party at Lady
Cork’s had some curious contrasts. There was Lady Charleville herself, the centre of a circle
in her great chair. Lady Dacre, author
of—everything; plays, poems, novels, &c., &c. Lady Charlotte Campbell, author of Conduct is
Fate. Miss Jane
Porter (Thaddeus of Warsaw), cold as ever, though the
muse of tragedy in appearance. Mrs. Bulwer
Lytton, the muse of comedy. Lady
Stepney, author of the New Road to Ruin;
lots of lay men and women, a crowd of saints and sinners. The men were still
more odd. Sir Charles Wetherell,
Prince Cimitelli, D’Israeli, who ran off as I skipped in,
some other remarkables, and one young man, Lord
Oxmantown, an impersonation of a “Committee of the
House.”
![]()
|
DRAMATIC SCENES AND SKETCHES—1833. |
361 |
![]()
July 1.—Pasta and Bellini jumped out
of a hackney-coach at our door to-day, with a roll of music in their
hands,—it was the score of the Norma, they came, Pasta said, from
the second rehearsal. Bellini scolded his great pupil like
a petite pensionnaire.
July 6.—Days later. Till this morning I have not
had a moment to spare to fill up my journal. What a loss! Pleasure, business,
folly, literature, fashion! Pasta often
calls on us; this is her own account of herself. “I was a petite demoiselle, playing and singing
in the amateur theatre at Milan. Pasta and I played
the Prince and Princess di Jovati, fell
in love, and married. Paer, who heard
us, or one of us, wrote to us to come to Paris, and play in the theatre of
Madame Caladoni. I so wished to travel,*
que faurais allé même à
l’Enfer! mes parens étaient desolés!
I went on the stage, and was engaged for London; came out in Télémaque. I was
so ashamed at showing my legs! Instead of minding my singing, I was always
trying to hide my legs. I failed!”
“Do you,” I asked,
“transport yourself into your
part?” “Oui,
après les premières lignes. Je commence toujours en
Giuditta (mon nom) mais je finis toujours en Medea ou
Norma!”
July 14.—I had a peep at club life,—the
Travellers. It is the perfection of domestic life! Every comfort at once
suggested and supplied; good reasons for not marrying! Women must get up to
this point, or they
* Mr.
Sterling, of the Times, told me, that when Pasta was playing Cherubino. fifteen years ago, in London,
she could not procure an order for a friend to the pit! |
![]()
![]()
| 362 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
will only be considered as burthens. Some of the young
husbands of the handsomest wives live at their clubs.
Went to see the hydro-oxygen microscope, which has
extinguished the solar light. It shows the objects in a drop of water magnified
800,000 times. The wonders of the microscopic world illustrate all the base
passions of the whole great system. The animalcules tear each other to pieces,
and are agitated by all the worst passions; they are of monstrous and
disgusting forms, the water devil, the water lion, with their great heads, and
the strange motions of others, are all images of crime and weakness; to
illustrate the same state by this exhibition, would be a sermon and a bore; to
illustrate the world by the microscope would be an epigram.
July 16.—Amongst the notabilities who have sought
us out, are Gabussi and Vaccai, the composers, and Taglioni, la
dèesse de la danse, she was brought to us by her
husband, who is the son of a peer of France, and ex-page to Bonaparte. She was quiet, lady-like, and simple,
her dress elegant, but simple. She told me her father was maître de ballet, and had early
instructed her; but she had so little vocation, that when she came to Paris,
she had no hope of success. Of her habits of life, she said, she lived
temperately, dining on plain roasts, at three o’clock, never sleeping
after dinner, nor taking anything till after her exertions at the theatre were
over, then, she supped on tea. She practices two or three hours a-day. She said
that the moment force was introduced in dancing, grace vanished; her ![]()
| DRAMATIC SCENES AND SKETCHES—1833. | 363 |
![]()
rule was never to make an effort, but to give herself up
to nature, and the great delight she had in dancing. She said she never was so
happy as when dancing. The moment she comes off the stage her ancles are
wrapped in woollen socks, and when she goes home her feet are bathed in
arrow-root water.
Last Monday we went to the British Institution, a very
mixed society, everybody coming to be seen, and nobody to see the pictures.
After the gallery, we went to a select soirée at Lady Cork’s. All dukes, duchesses, lords, ladies, and
bores; the dresses were bad. D’Israeli shuffled along with his ivory cane, like the
ghost in Hamlet, and the only amusing thing was a little boy from
Ireland, who attacked us all at the door.
July 29.—Yesterday we went to the House of Lords
to hear the last debate on the Church Temporalities Bill. We sat in the
Peeress’s box. The first thing that struck me, was the theatrical set out
of the place. The stage below, the gallery above, the dropping in of the
actors. To the right from the gallery, in the centre of the lower bench, sat
the Dukes of Wellington, Cumberland, Newcastle, and Lord
Winchelsea; behind them, Lord
Ellenborough, Lord Wicklow,
Lord Aberdeen; opposite were Lord Grey, the Duke of
Rutland; opposite to us, on the woolsack, sat Lord Brougham, bound up like an Egyptian mummy,
his countenance as impassible as Talleyrand’s. When a note was presented to him he drew
his hands out of his sleeves, in which they were folded, and used glasses. The
debate opened with the Duke of Newcastle, who ![]()
| 364 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
stuttered, stammered, and looked frightened.
Lord Winchester followed, who roared and bellowed; he
addressed the Bishop of London, whose
manner, in reply, was cold, collected, but quite as mad; no eloquence, wit,
energy, or originality. Lord Eldon, an old
state-property actor, with a conventional manner; his speech was gag—all
referred to himself; he was of the people once—he was still of the
people, though now he was a peer of the realm! He had filled the woolsack for
twenty years; he respected and admired the Duke, but he was angry with him for
emancipating the Catholics; he would soon appear before the throne of Heaven
(and he took out his blue pocket-handkerchief and wept through the rest of his
speech); he must soon die; but dying, he foresaw the fall of that glorious
assembly; if the bill passed, it must be swept away, it could not last, except
on the stability of compacts (for compacts are made for man, not man for
compacts) &c. &c. The whole speech, that of an old rogue, but a very
good actor. “Pity the sorrows of a poor old man.”
In the box with us was the Duchess of Richmond, who never misses a debate. She had been
here since five o’clock, and desired her daughter to keep her place when
she went home for an hour to meet the Duke of
Gloucester; the box holds twenty-five.
The Duke of
Wellington’s manner and matter were equally bad. He spoke
so low and indistinct, I scarcely heard him. The effect produced by these
scenes was, the error of erecting a barrier against progress by giving sanction
to an assembly, composed principally of ![]()
| DRAMATIC SCENES AND SKETCHES—1833. | 365 |
![]()
old and infirm
men. The number of young men is so small as to make every man under fifty
conspicuous. Nearly all, as I looked down, seemed bald; many were infirm, and
walked with an arm—Lord Holland was
wheeled in; they were all men without fathers—consequently, of a certain
age. Lord Ellenborough, and two or three
others of his standing, represented the middle-aged.
Monday.—Last night, at Mr.
Perry’s, son of the editor of the Morning Chronicle. House
after Louis XIV. style; company, Fonblanque, of the Examiner; Kenny, the dramatist, &c., &c. The
manner of all the men cold and languid; reserve, shyness, and morgue make up
the character and manners of English society.
Mrs. Bulwer Lytton, handsome, insolent, and
unamiable, to judge by her style and manners; she, and all the demi-esprits, looked daggers at me; not
one of them have called on me, and in society they get out of my way. How
differently I should behave to them if they came to Ireland!
July 31.—Last night an agreeable party at the
Countess of Montalembert’s.
Renewed my acquaintance with the once famous Lady
Clare; Lady Dudley Stuart
(Lucien Bonaparte’s daughter), in
the most extravagant of dresses; but très
aimable. That egregious coxcomb, Disraeli, was there, too—outraging the
privilege a young man has of being absurd.
August 4.—We have had a cordial visit, from
Captain Marryatt—there had
been a coldness since we withdrew from the Metropolitan. After
dinner, we ![]()
| 366 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
lounged in the Park, and then took a walk,
then home to dress for Lady Cork’s,
where we met and chatted with all sorts of old acquaintances, Lady Marybrough, Lady
Darlington, Lady Augusta Paulet, Rogers the poet, Lady Davy, Lady Caledon,
&c.; the Duchess of Cleveland is a very
pleasant woman, full of spirit and spirits. It was curious to see that handsome
head encircled with diamonds, which first attracted notice under a basket of
onions and salad. She was a garden girl, attending the London markets. What a
romance was hers!
Rogers said, that Moore’s book The Gentleman in Search of a Religion,
was a failure, and that Moore was much disappointed,
though he did not expect a very brilliant success.
Yesterday Bellini
and Gabussi came, and sang and played
like angels. Lucien Bonaparte came in as
they were singing—
“O bella Italia che porte tre color, Sei bianca e rosa e Verde com ’un fiore!” |
![]()
Lucien exhibited a supressed emotion that was very
touching. How honest and clever he is! He said, what I have often preached,
“nations that deserve to be free, are free!” He blamed Lafayette in the late events of
France—elect a Bourbon to the throne—and talk of the voice of the
people in this election! The people who forget and who bled, were consulted, but betrayed. We talked of Ireland. I said,
“The Irish have no idea of liberty, they want a king of their own. Come
and present yourself, and I will promise you a ![]()
| DRAMATIC SCENES AND SKETCHES—1833. | 367 |
![]()
crown.” He laughed, but said, “Point de couronne, point de
couronne.”
I said “Voilà done encore une
couronne que vous refusez!”
It is well known that he did refuse a crown at the
hands of his brother. He and his brother Joseph have only just enough to live upon; Lucien is lodging in a little bit of a house in
Devonshire Street (No. 50); Joseph has a toute petite campagne, where he lives with
his daughter, whom he insists on calling la
Princesse Charlotte.
Lady Cork has just written to beg I will
name a day to meet the ex-majesties of Spain at dinner! I have been obliged to
refuse, as we are off to Belgium this month. What strange things do come to
pass in this tragical fever called life!
I am always studying eminent persons. Women above
all—eminent no matter for what, De
Stael, or Taglioni,
e’est égal.
Talking with Pasta the other day, I
cross-questioned her about her diet. I said, “I remember, one night,
being with you in your dressing-room when you had just come off the stage in
your highest wrought scene, (the quartetta ‘Come o
Nimé,’) your woman had a bit of cold roast beef ready to
put into your mouth, and some porter.”
“Ah si,” was her reply,
“mais je ne prends plus la viande—et pour le
porter, I take it half-and-half.” This bit of
London slang, from the lips of Medea, and
in her sweet broken English, had the oddest effect imaginable.
Saturday.—Yesterday was a curious day. I went ![]()
| 368 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
with dear Lady
Charleville and Mrs. Marley to see some
original pictures of Nell Gwynne, at the
Duke of St. Albans. The Duchess received us in a superb morning room; her
dress was ridiculously fine for the morning—rich white silk trimmed with
white lace; a quantity of gold chains, bracelets, &c. She had black
ringlets, surmounted by a black lace veil, which fell over on one side. She is
a coarse, full-blown, dark-complexioned woman, about fifty. The last time I saw
her, was as Miss Mellon, in the Honey Moon, when I
came over to London to sell my Wild Irish Girl. She was then a model of
beauty, symmetry, and grace. As I stared at her now, surrounded by ducal
coronets, even on her footstools, the pretty poem of Le Tu, et le Vous, of Voltaire, came into my head. She accompanied
us to her dressing-room, where she showed us two pictures of Nell
Gwynne, not original; the one, a beautiful woman wearing a
jewelled carcanet, by Sir P. Lely, a copy
of an original in the possession of Mr.
Calcraft, the Duchess believed; the other, was a miserable thing
in the dressing-room.
The Temple and the Idol, were the most interesting
things to me; the magnificence and taste of all the mirrors, gilding, pictures,
furniture—the profusion of flowers, and, above all, the attending
priestesses, the abigails, all over-dressed and ugly, such as any young Duke
might be trusted with. The robust Duchess complained all the time of ill
health, and said she would hand us over to her housekeeper after she had shown
us over the ground-floor.
In the Duke’s
sitting-room, she pointed out a pic-![]()
| DRAMATIC SCENES AND SKETCHES—1833. | 369 |
![]()
ture of herself as
Miss Mellon, in Mrs. Page—“Very beautiful,
done,” said she, “for my dear Mr. Coutts, and the Duke will hang it up,
you see, as a match for his father, the late
Duke, and here is a bust of Mr. Coutts;
you will see a statue of him up stairs,” and so we did, at the
head of the drawing-room—an awful figure! We were shown by the
housekeeper into her Grace’s second dining-room, almost as magnificent as
her first. She said her Grace dressed here in the morning and below in the
evening, to save her the trouble of going up stairs. I was thinking of the
Polly Peachum Duchess of Bolton, and Nell Gwynne, and her descendant marrying another Nell
Gwynne. The whole of this day was amusing. I dined at Lord Charleville’s, the company, the old
Tory Duchess of Richmond, enjoying the
honours founded by Mademoiselle de Querouille (Duchess of Portsmouth), Sir Charles Wetherell, lovely Lady Antrim, young Lord Tullamore and his beautiful
wife. After dinner went to a dance with my girls.
August 15, Monday.—Yesterday was curious and interesting; people coming to
take leave of us. We had at the same moment, Moore, Madame Pasta,
Bellini, Gabussi. And now for writing letters, apologies, &c., and
off to-morrow for the Rhine.
Monday night.—The eve of our departure for the
Rhine. All packed up and ready for the Tower stairs except my stomach. Oh, the
horrible sea, and steam-packet!
Tuesday morning, 6 o’clock.—Half inclined not to go. London, hot rooms, and late
hours have nearly killed ![]()
| 370 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. | |
![]()
me, and yet there is but one
place in the world, and that is—dear London!
Richard Bentley (1794-1871)
London bookseller who in 1819 partnered with his brother Samuel (1785-1868) and in 1829
formed an unhappy partnership with Henry Colburn that was dissolved in 1832.
Lucien Bonaparte (1775-1840)
Brother of Napoleon; he was captured by the British while attempting to flee to the
United States. He lived under house arrest in England (1810-14) while working on his epic
poem on Napoleon.
Barbarina Brand, Lady Dacre [née Ogle] (1768-1854)
The daughter of Admiral Sir Chaloner Ogle; she married in 1789 Valentine Henry Wilmot (d.
1819), and in 1819, Thomas Brand, twentieth Baron Dacre. She was the author of
Ina, a Tragedy (1815) and
Dramas, Translations,
and Occasional Poems (1821).
Henry Peter Brougham, first baron Brougham and Vaux (1778-1868)
Educated at Edinburgh University, he was a founder of the
Edinburgh
Review in which he chastised Byron's
Hours of Idleness; he
defended Queen Caroline in her trial for adultery (1820), established the London University
(1828), and was appointed lord chancellor (1830).
Charles William Bury, second earl of Charleville (1801-1851)
The son of the first earl (d. 1835); educated at Eton, he was a Tory MP for Carlow
(1826-32) and Penryn (1832-35), and was an Irish representative peer. Thomas Creevey called
him “the greatest bore the world can produce.”
Lady Charlotte Susan Maria Bury [née Campbell] (1775-1861)
Scottish novelist, daughter of John Campbell, fifth duke of Argyll; in 1791 she married
John Campbell of Shawfield and Islay (1796) and in 1818 Edward John Bury; she was
lady-in-waiting to Queen Caroline (1809) and published
Diary illustrative
of the Times of George IV (1838). Thomas Creevey described her as “a very handsome
woman and somewhat loose.”
Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)
Scottish poet and man of letters; author of
The Pleasures of Hope
(1799),
Gertrude of Wyoming (1808) and lyric odes. He edited the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30).
Prince Cimitelli (1835 fl.)
Minister of Naples; he was an acquaintance of the Duke of Sussex, Richard Heber, William
Beckford, and Samuel Rogers.
John William Cole (d. 1870)
Adopting the stage name of Calcraft, he was manager of the Theatre Royal in Dublin
(1830-51) and biographer and secretary of Charles Kean.
Thomas Coutts (1735-1822)
Edinburgh-born banker to royalty and aristocracy—and patron of Benjamin Robert Haydon;
his daughter Sophia married Sir Francis Burnett.
Lady Jane Davy [née Kerr] (1780-1855)
Society hostess who in 1798 married Shuckburgh Ashby Apreece (d. 1807) and Humphry Davy
in 1812.
King Ernest Augustus, of Hanover (1771-1851)
The fifth and last surviving son of George III; he was king of Hanover 1837-1851. Though
acquitted, he was thought to have murdered his valet, Joseph Sellis.
Lavinia Fenton, duchess of Bolton (1710-1760)
English actress who performed as Polly Peachum in Gay's
Beggar's
Opera, after which she became the mistress and later the wife of the third duke of
Bolton.
Albany William Fonblanque (1793-1872)
Radical journalist, son of John de Grenier Fonblanque; he contributed to the
Westminster Review and was from 1826 a writer for, and afterwards
editor and owner of
The Examiner.
Henry Richard Fox, third baron Holland (1773-1840)
Whig politician and literary patron; Holland House was for many years the meeting place
for reform-minded politicians and writers. He also published translations from the Spanish
and Italian;
Memoirs of the Whig Party was published in 1852.
Vincenzo Gabussi (1800-1846)
Italian composer of salon music who was active in London.
George Hamilton- Gordon, fourth earl of Aberdeen (1784-1860)
Harrow-educated Scottish philhellene who founded the Athenian Society and was elected to
the Society of Dilettanti (1805); he was foreign secretary (1841-1846) and prime minister
(1852-55).
Charles Grey, second earl Grey (1764-1845)
Whig statesman and lover of the Duchess of Devonshire; the second son of the first earl
(d. 1807), he was prime minister (1831-34).
Robert Grosvenor, first marquess of Westminster (1767-1845)
Of Eaton Hall, one of William Gifford's early patrons; he was a connoisseur of painting,
a Whig MP, and commissioner of the Board of Control. He was created Marquess of Westminster
in 1831.
Nell Gwyn (1651 c.-1687)
English actress and mistress of Charles II.
William Howard, fourth earl of Wicklow (1788-1869)
The son of William Howard, third Earl of Wicklow (d. 1818); in 1816 he married Cecil
Frances Hamilton, daughter of the first Marquess of Abercorn.
James Kenney (1780-1849)
Irish playwright, author of
The World (1808); he was a friend of
Lamb, Hunt, Moore, and Rogers.
Edward Law, first earl of Ellenborough (1790-1871)
Tory MP; he succeeded his father as second baron Ellenborough in 1818 and was president
of the Board of Control (1828-30, 1834-35, 1841, 1858) and governor-general of India
(1841).
Sir Peter Lely (1618-1680)
Dutch portrait painter who settled in London about 1643 where he painted members of the
court.
Thomas Norton Longman (1771-1842)
A leading London publisher whose authors included Southey, Wordsworth, Scott, and
Moore.
Frederick Marryat (1792-1848)
Sea-captain and novelist; he published
The Naval Officer, or, Scenes
and Adventures in the Life of Frank Mildmay, 3 vols (1829) and edited the
Metropolitan Magazine (1832-35).
Mde. Montalembert [née Merode] (1839 fl.)
The daughter of Felix de Mérode, born in London; in 1836 she married the French
politician Charles-Forbes-Rene Montalembert (1810-1870).
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
Ferdinando Paer (1771-1839)
Born in Parma, he was a composer of Italian operas.
Barbara Palmer, duchess of Cleveland [née Villiers] (1640-1709)
The daughter of William Villiers, second viscount Grandison (1614-1643) and mistress of
Charles II, who granted her the title in 1670. Her sexual adventures were detailed in
Delarivier Manley's
The New Atalantis (1709).
William Parsons, third earl of Rosse (1800-1867)
Son of the second earl (d. 1841) he was educated at Trinity College, Dublin and Magdalen
College, Oxford and was MP for King's County (1821-34). He was a notable astronomer,
president of the Royal Society (1848-1854), and chancellor of Trinity College, Dublin
(1862-1867)
Giuditta Pasta (1797-1865)
Italian soprano who made her London debut in 1817.
Jane Porter (1776-1850)
English novelist, sister of the poet and novelist Anna Maria Porter (1778-1832); she
wrote
The Scottish Chiefs (1810).
Owen Rees (1770-1837)
London bookseller; he was the partner of Thomas Norton Longman and friend of the poet
Thomas Moore.
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
English poet, banker, and aesthete, author of the ever-popular
Pleasures of Memory (1792),
Columbus (1810),
Jaqueline (1814), and
Italy (1822-28).
John Scott, first earl of Eldon (1751-1838)
Lord chancellor (1801-27); he was legal counsel to the Prince of Wales and an active
opponent of the Reform Bill.
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817)
French woman of letters; author of the novel
Corinne, ou L'Italie
(1807) and
De l'Allemagne (1811); banned from Paris by Napoleon, she
spent her later years living in Germany, Britain, and Switzerland.
Lady Catherine Stepney [née Pollok] (1778-1845)
Silver-fork novelist; after the death of her first husband, Russell Manners, she married
Sir Thomas Stepney, ninth baronet, groom of the bedchamber to the Duke of York.
Edward Sterling (1773-1847)
Son of a subdean of Waterford Cathedral, he was educated at Trinity College Dublin and
worked as a correspondent for the
Times (1815-1840); he was the
father of the poet John Sterling.
Marie Taglioni (1804-1884)
Celebrated ballerina who performed in London in the 1820s.
Nicola Vaccai (1790-1848)
Italian opera composer and singing teacher.
Voltaire (1694-1778)
French historian and man of letters; author of, among many other works,
The Age of Louis XIV (1751) and
Candide (1759).
Sir Charles Wetherell (1770-1846)
Educated at Magdalen College, Oxford, he was Tory MP (1812-32) violently opposed to
reform and Catholic emancipation; he was attorney-general (1826, 1828).
The Examiner. (1808-1881). Founded by John and Leigh Hunt, this weekly paper divided its attention between literary
matters and radical politics; William Hazlitt was among its regular contributors.
Morning Chronicle. (1769-1862). James Perry was proprietor of this London daily newspaper from 1789-1821; among its many
notable poetical contributors were Coleridge, Southey, Lamb, Rogers, and Campbell.
The Times. (1785-). Founded by John Walter, The Times was edited by Thomas Barnes from 1817 to 1841. In the
romantic era it published much less literary material than its rival dailies, the
Morning Chronicle and the
Morning
Post.
