The Times, Wednesday, Nov 29, 1786; pg. 2; Issue 298; col D
MAD MARY - A TRUE STORY:
Mary was the daughter of a very worthy man, who was steward to a Mr. C-- in the West of England. She possessed a sweet disposition and an amiable appearance, which, by the circumstances of her situation, were improved into elegance and accomplishment. Mr. C-- had an only daughter, and as Mary was of her age, she was her constant play-fellow and companion. Mr. C-- , thinking that a spirit of emulation might incite his daughter to a more rapid improvement in the different branches of her education, ordered the masters who attended Miss C—to give their attentions also to Mary; so that she became as accomplished as her friend, for whose sake she was instructed. Several years now passed on and Mary was the favourite of all who knew her, but none more than the amiable young lady whose inseparable companion she was. The time, however, drew nigh when they were to part. A gentleman of large fortune, whose name was Freeman, had made proposals of marriage to Miss C. which were accepted; and she soon quitted her father’s house for that of her husband. Mary grieved sincerely and in silence at the departure of her kind patroness, who soon after her marriage set out with her family to make the tour of Europe. They remained abroad three years, and though Mary loved her father and failed in no point of duty to him, the letters she received from Mrs. Freeman were her principal satisfactions during all that time. At length, her friend returned to England, and Mary received an invitation to pass the following winter with her in London. It was not long, therefore, before she found herself in a situation which, for some time, she thought the happiest on earth. But Mary was handsome, and her personal charms were accompanied with that softness of manners and sensibility of character, which awaken an interest in the breast of all who are within their influence. Thus endowed, Mary caught the libertine attentions of Mr. Freeman himself. Though he had every reason to be attached to his wife, he had not been the constant husband she merited to possess; and he was now on the point of making another offering at the shrine of infidelity. His continual assiduities did not appear to the innocent, unsuspecting Mary, but as the attentions of a friend; and he was obliged to speak very plain indeed, before she could be made to conceive the extent of his designs. When, however, the veil was drawn aside, her situation became truly deplorable. To acquaint Mrs. Freeman with her husband’s conduct, would be to plant a dagger in the bosom of her friend, and to remain in her present situation, without guarding against the dangers of it, would be to risk everything that was dear to her. She therefore wrote a precise state of the disagreeable circumstances with which she was surrounded to her father, and implored his immediate presence to snatch her from them. In the interval, however, Mr. Freeman had laid his plans so sure, that he succeeded in the object of them; when men are so lost and abandoned as to apply the opiate, that they make take advantage of insensibility – what can withstand them. Poor Mary awakened, as from a delirium, found herself in a strange apartment and in Mr. Freeman’s arms. She immediately grew outrageous, and, on hearing her situation explained to her, that outrage increased. A fever ensued, and her senses became disordered; nor have they yet recovered themselves but for very short and dubious intervals.
Mary’s father no soon received her letter, than he set off with his son for London. They arrived at Mr. Freeman’s, and were told by the servants, that Mary was run off with some on whom they did not know, and that no tidings had since been heard of her. The poor man feared the worst, and it was by the interference of the Magistrate that he at length got to the sight of his unhappy child. Finding, however, that nothing could be done to punish the seduce, without bringing treble wretchedness on Mrs. Freeman, the daughter of his friend and master, and that the utmost vengeance would not restore poor Mary to her right senses, he was content to secure an annuity of 200 l. during her life, which enabled him to place her under his best care, and provide her with every comfort which her unhappy state was capable of receiving.
Poor Mary is now a wretched maniac. In her more tranquil intervals, she knows her friends, is sensible of her situation, and call herself Mad Mary. The last time I saw her, she had dressed her head fantastically with flowers, and sang melancholy ditties. As I was taking my leave of her, “Ah, (said she, with a sigh,) he may roll along in plenty, but not in peace. Mad Mary haunts him while he is at the jovial banquet: If he seeks the midnight revel, Mad Mary meets him there – Go, tell him, (continued she) tell all your sex, that when, to gratify a moment’s burning passion, they give disgrace and despair to the whole life of a wretched female, they are like those infernal friends, who are permitted by heaven to make poor Mary mad – and keep her so.”
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