The Battle of The Press

"Eliza or Isis."

The summons she awaited was not long in reaching her, and so we find her on the 11th January, 1832, starting for London, which she reached safely, and lost no time in getting into active service. She called on Carlile in the Giltspur Street prison, and after a lengthy consultation with him, set about opening up the Rotunda again. It is needless to say that Carlile was more than pleased with the beauty and intelligence as well as the courage displayed by the young lady, and he accepted her as a veritable Joan of Arc for the cause to which he was devoted. Almost her first act was to go to Lord Melbourne and procure his permission to reopen the Rotunda on her promise that while she was in charge of it, there should be nothing but philosophic lecturers and discussions take place there. To Lord Melbourne she made known her name and family connections, as also her object, viz., to assist as much as possible to support both Carlile and Taylor while they were in prison. It is fair to say that the gentleman treated her kindly and granted her request. Isis delivered her first lecture at the Rotunda on the 29th of January, a little over two weeks after her arrival from Lancashire. From consideration for the feelings of her family, her mother most particularly, her name and connections were carefully concealed from the public, and she became known as the "Lady of the Rotunda". Isis, the name Carlile had given her in his letters, was adopted as the name of a weekly publication which was started in February and kept up for about two years. Naturally, the novelty of the proceeding, combined with the beauty and talent of the lady, and the mystery surrounding her, drew many hearers. She was the first woman to take the platform as an independent thinker and public speaker in England. Almost, as a matter of course, she was inundated by letters of adoration, curiosity, approbation and so on, and proposals of all kinds. Any of these that seemed to carry a double purpose in it were answered publicly in the columns of the Isis. She preserved her incognita completely so far as the public was concerned, and also kept herself free from all private calumny. On Sunday and two or three times a week she lectured at the Rotunda and various other places by invitation. The study necessarily incident to these frequent lectures occupied the whole of her time, and except for her visits to Carlile in prison in Giltspur Street, and the Rev. Robt. Taylor in Horsemonger Lane Gaol, she had no diversion of any kind. There is no doubt at all but that Carlile outlined all her lectures for her, for it would have been impossible for an inexperienced country girl with the ordinarily narrow education of her time and class to have been able to have pleased a metropolitan audience of reading and thinking men and women. As it was, she delivered the lectures in a very quiet and dignified manner, and at their close quietly left the platform, leaving to others the task of discussing or defending the arguments used or the merit or demerit of the discourse itself. Frequently her exit had to be made through a long double-lined passage of admirers. Flowers were offered in profusion. She would sometimes accept a few simple ones with an inclination of the head or a "Thank you", but never stayed her steps for an instant. She busied herself in procuring for Mr. Taylor a modification of his sentence, or at least some mitigation of the severities practiced upon him. Writing to Carlile from Horsemonger Lane Gaol, January 12, 1832, the Rev. Robt. Taylor says: —

"I am much delighted with your 'new born hope'. 'Isis' is the very name. The Goddess, I am already an idolator. My eager adoration anticipates her ephiphany! She is indeed Isis Omnia to our cause. If she should realise your description and my fancies, the path of immortality is open before her."

He adds a postscript: —

"I have just seen Isis, who beyond all I had dreamed makes me happy. She will, she must succeed. I have seen her star in the East, and am her worshipper."

A little later she addressed a petition to Lord Melbourne in Taylor's behalf, wherein she makes mention of his "proneness to jest" on what are considered sacred subjects, and that his best friends regretted that tendency of the rev. gentleman, who was really the finest orator and deepest student in the country, and a man of wonderful genius, ect., ect. But the prisoner took great umbrage at this, and would have no pardon of this getting. The petition itself was innocent enough and was really of Carlile's framing, and Taylor had no better friend than Carlile. But the rev. gentleman was very much of a spoilt child, and it was always difficult to keep him in good humor. It was two or three of Taylor's jokes which gained him the two years' imprisonment he received on the last trial. A little note in Mr. Taylor's handwriting, but without date, showed how keenly he felt the reflection on his good sense.

"Mr. Taylor begs to be spared the superfluous pain of seeing a person who has injured him so grievously, and has made the pretence of presenting a petition on his behalf a means of insulting him more than his bitterest enemy could have done. Mr. Taylor would have rather terminated his existence, with his own hand, than have accepted his deliverance upon that degrading and atrociously insulting promise and condition with which Miss Sharples has taken upon herself to implore it. Mr. Taylor has written to Lord Melbourne to counteract as much as possible the mischievous and scandalous falsehood of which Miss Sharples has been the instrument. Mr. T.'s only hopes of a lessening of his term of imprisonment rested in the doubt that existed in Lord M.'s mind as to the nature of the alleged offence. Miss S. has removed that doubt and justified the imprisonment to any extent.

"To Miss Sharples,

"Editress of the Isis."

Following this, in a few days, after Carlile had written to Taylor telling him that "he ought to apologise to Isis on his knees for grieving her thus, when she was turning every stone to do him good ". Taylor replied: —

"Ah, Lord! you talk of romance and recommend wisdom and reason. Nobody loves wisdom and reason more than I do; but my knees are now too stiff to undergo the operation you recommend. I would rather and better support the consciousness of being altogether in the wrong, than to rescue even my life itself by kneeling. If you should find me as I intend you shall, on good terms with Miss Sharples, they will not have been achieved by kneeling. Mark! I will achieve my peace without you. Humiliations never yet healed grievances,

"Yours affectionately,

"R. Taylor."

Later still we find him lamenting from the bottom of his heart that he should ever have been the cause of bringing tears to those lovely violet eyes, and asks forgiveness for whatever has seemed excessive in the expression of his grief, which has indeed been intense, and "assure Miss Sharples that I am sorry in my soul for the weight which my mental anguish has thrown upon her".

Several months passed away and the further acquaintance and constant daily interviews of Miss Sharples with Richard Carlile, which were necessary to the business and the cause in which they were both so earnestly engaged, developed a very strong attachment between them. It would seem, almost, as though Miss Sharples had been reserved for this union, it being more than singular that she should have arrived at the age of twenty-six without having met anyone who had made any impression upon her heart. Yet she had many admirers, and indeed, one would think that so beautiful a girl had been formed for love alone. We cannot find, however, a single instance in her history which would show that her heart had ever been touched before she met Carlile. It seemed as though she was waiting for the summons to take her part in the allotted task, and when he wrote to her in his delight at hearing of a young and beautiful woman who wanted to wield a sword in the battle of free thought, saying that such a woman should be everything to him, she was not surprised, but expressed her complete willingness in her simple "so be it". But when she was brought into close relationship with Carlile and had the opportunity of seeing the genuine superiority of his character, the generosity, the unselfishness, the amiability of his temper, his kindness to everybody in his employ, his great love and patience with his children, and his unfailing sense of justice in all the relations of life, she found one who was worthy of all the love and appreciation she had to bestow, and he received it: a love that filled the measure to overflowing. Unfortunately, Carlile had been and was still paying the penalty of the mistake of his early manhood, his unhappy marriage, although after twenty years of unhappiness he was as free as he could be when no divorce was possible. So, in this state of affairs, Carlile did all that was left to him to do, and that was to explain every particular of his situation to her, for her consideration and reflection.

CHAPTER II. ISIS TO RICHARD CARLILE

The first shock to the happiness of Carlile and Isis was caused by the receipt of a letter from her brother which induced the following: —

"Health and Tranquillity! A letter from Bolton has at length found its way to London, and my bosom is bursting with indignation and sorrow, with indignation for the contemptible and satirical style and manner in which the letter is written; and sorrow for a parent's suffering. My God! what shall I do? Leave you, my dear Richard, I cannot, it would be death to me and your hopes, and your and my cause. My own hopes are that mother is not so ill as represented, and that they have written in such a strain to induce me to give up my purpose. What must I do? Oh! how I wish that you were at liberty to advise and comfort me. I am quite alone in this large place. David wished to go out with Thomas, and I could not refuse, 'tis the first time the request was made. Mrs. Hudson merely gave me the letter and then went out again; all is shut up and I feel to want your presence so much. Oh! Richard, I think my heart will burst, that cruel, taunting, unkind, insulting letter. I could have forgiven him if it had not contained the distressing intelligence of my mother's illness (inconsiderate, unfeeling wretch, you have not written in haste, but must have sat and premeditated every word, so-that you might doubly wound, doubly wring my over-whelmed heart). My dear Richard, what must I do? You are all the world to me, yet I cannot divest myself of those feelings which are now almost too much for me to bear. Were I to return home to-morrow it would perhaps avail nothing, and the idea is madness itself to me. You must forgive me, Richard, for troubling you with my grief and sorrow; but methinks my brain will turn if I do not give you a little of them. Remember you are my friend, my husband, and never did I require your love, your care so much as now. My brother has probed to my heart's core, by heaven, I think I shall never forgive him. I will never again write to him. He shall never hear from me. I will write to my sister to-morrow; how I feel for her, poor Maria. My heart is torn with contending emotion. I long to go home for mother's sake and Maria's, but for my own sake I wish to remain with you. I feel quite assured that if I return home that I shall never see you again, and what say you to that? Are you willing to relinquish your Isis, your bride? Oh Richard, do endeavor for my sake to obtain your liberty. I will endeavor to be all that you can wish. I will strive to equal Miss F. Wright. My eyes are quite swollen with tears, the first I have shed since I came to town. I wish much to breakfast with you this morning, but really I am afraid the Governor will think my visits too frequent. I, however, hope to see you some part of the day and to hear from you early in the morning. I am afraid, my dear Richard, you will think me very weak, very unlike a philosopher. It was only to-day I was boasting of courage and firmness. I cannot but think that empty vessels make the greatest sound.

"Good Night."

After this it was agreed between Carlile and Isis that she should return home for a short visit and satisfy herself as to her mother's condition, and to ease her mother's mind as to her own well-being, which certainly was the wisest thing to do. In the following letter she takes leave of Carlile for a time: —

"Of all men the most intelligent and the most beloved! When you receive this note I shall be in person many miles distant, but united in heart, in thought, in corresponding sentiment, in mind, in soul, in mutual love and affection. These are the two first days that we have been separated, that we have been taken away from each other; and although I am writing this before my departure, because there will be no opportunity of sending during my absence, I can very easily anticipate what my feeling and disposition will be on. Sunday morning. I shall be surrounded by friends anxious to make me comfortable, and they will wear a smile upon their faces; but my bosom will pant for him whom it has-been accustomed to meet, and whom it adores. It will pant for its accustomed embrace from him on whom my eyes gaze with pleasure and delight, him whose features shine with perfect integrity, with confidential affection, with intelligence, with candor, with conscious dignity, with friendship, with reciprocal love, and with manly beauty. My attachment becomes stronger every day. The more I see and know of you the more I admire, love, and esteem you, and the more reluctant I am to be absent one moment from you. Oh! may it be always thus. In twenty years may we embrace each other in tried affection, and again renew our engagement of everlasting fidelity, honesty, and truth. I sincerely love you, and flatter myself that my absence will be a little regretted to-day, the day on which I shall request David to convey this note. Let us be happy in the kind assurance of each other's love; let us bless each other with a free, affable, and corresponding deportment towards each other. Let us strengthen each other so as to be able to contend with existing evils, but let us never deviate one moment from our principles. Let not the presence of the Misses Laws on Sunday make you to forget me. Remember, my love, that now I have a double claim to your protection, to your assistance, to your kind protection, to your solicitude, to your love. Oh! do be faithful, be constant, do not encourage a thought to arise that will, in the least, stem the torrent of affection with which my bosom is overflowing.

"I hope ere this your cold is better. Do, my dear Richard, take care of yourself. The name of Richard is doubly dear to me; my father, my beloved father's name was Richard, and now my husband's, my lover's name is Richard. I love to dwell upon it. Adieu, most valued, most beloved of men. God bless you, my philosopher!"

This little visit to Bolton relieved the mind of Isis of some anxiety in regard to the mother she had so abruptly left, and convinced also the mother that the determination to follow the course she had mapped out for herself was no idle purpose, but one of principle and duty. Besides, she was wholly linked to Carlile in spirit, in principle, in the object to be attained, in business, and in the strongest bond of all – that of love. As she said herself, "Her spirit was wedded to the spirit of her husband before she had spoken to him". With him was life, without him was death. Probably never before had a prison witnessed such an exhibition of awakening love and almost perfect happiness. To Isis it was not only the opening up of the fountain of knowledge, but that of love also, and seldom have those two all-powerful streams been more beautifully and more fittingly blended. Their agreement was that they should make the best marriage contract that could be made at that time, that she should unite her name with his and be known as Mrs. Sharples Carlile, her private signature to be Elizabeth Sharples Carlile, and the public announcement of their moral marriage to be made immediately upon his liberation from the Giltspur Street Compter, which was then in early prospect. But the action of the authorities in refusing her admission to the gaol caused an earlier explanation of the facts of the association to be made, and was understood by all their private friends. It was not, however, till May 29th, 1834, that it was publicly announced in the dedication of the first volume of the Isis. An outbreak of cholera in the city of London gave to the authorities of the gaol an excuse to keep out all visitors. This was truly an unexpected blow to both, but to poor Isis it was almost a killing blow. Carlile had to find courage and fortitude for them both. The letters that passed daily between them were of the most affectionate character, and Isis poured out her soul in love and adoration through them. Unfortunately for the better sequence of this correspondence, many of Carlile's letters have been lost, but enough remains to show the character of it. It is very difficult to arrange these letters in proper order, owing to the fact that they were not dated, being exchanged by bearers or messengers making regular trips once or twice a day. It is only by a searching out of dates and of facts, otherwise known, that it is possible to place them with any degree of accuracy or fitness.

This love which Isis poured out so lavishly was of the old-fashioned kind, of happily an old-fashioned time: the time when women had no other avenue for their pent-up feelings or ambitions, the only avenue which opened up for them except their church, their sewing, or their household cares, their dresses or their gossips; when they were wholly dependent upon their relatives for their support; when no diplomas awaited their eager studies; when the luxury of self-earned money was unknown to them; when the curse of Puritan propriety was laid on them, when a skip or a jump was a crime against young ladyhood; when all the possibilities of the present age were undreamed of, and women were bound by the iron rule of precedent and respectability. Even our poor Isis was only in a transitional state, and had much to unlearn and overcome.

Here are some extracts from her letters of that time: —

"Your letter to me of to-day is really a most delightful one. I have read it over and over again, pressed it as frequently to my lips and blessed its author. I feel the value of your friendship most fervently, and feel myself happy in your choice. How kind, how very kind and considerate is your behaviour toward me. Believe me, your acquaintance is duly appreciated, and expect and hope that twenty years hence our feelings and affection will be still the same. I feel that mine will never change, whatever fortune may allot me. I am very much in arrears with you in letter writing. I believe a bankruptcy will have to take place, at least a compromise. I send you an Observer, loaf sugar, and a little tea, as much as can be afforded this evening. Heaven bless you, my love, anchor of my affection and my hope, solace and comfort of my life, inferior to none and without an equal."

"The light-fingered goddess to her friend and beloved companion. You desire me to be happy; and you, my friend, a prisoner. Be really happy, you say. Think of my situation for a moment, and then you will be led to exclaim, 'No, poor girl, I must make her happy, her happiness will depend upon me '. I am waiting, oh! how anxiously, for your liberation, and then, and not till then shall I be able to say, 'I am happy'."

"Happiness!

"There was only one object wanting to render Mr. Owen's institution a perfect paradise. The company was very numerous, being, I suppose, about 2,000 individuals in attendance, upon whose countenances joy, health and happiness seemed to beam. Oh! what folly to look beyond this world for heaven, I thought, as I gazed upon the happy throng. Oh! that man would become rational, make, for it is in his power, a heaven upon the earth; instead of which, like the dog in the fable, he is grasping at a shadow and losing the substance. Oh! that man would cease to be inconsistent, that he would cease to act so contrary to reason and common sense by soaring above his comprehension and understanding in search of that which is in his immediate possession. My evening's amusement was greatly enhanced by the introductions which took place between myself and several of the delegates, particularly those who came from Lancashire. I was introduced as the 'Lady Isis', and was indeed warmly, and I may say affectionately, received. My fame, they were pleased to say, had spread abroad in Lancashire, and the co-operators were anxiously awaiting the time when you and I could pay them a visit. Your name being introduced, and with so much ardor and respect, afforded me additional pleasure. Two or three were requested by the society to see you, if possible, and are calling to-day at Fleet Street in order to be taken by me to prison. What think you, love, must I attend them or send Mullins? You must decide. Do say yes, because remember I did not see you yesterday. I promise not to stay a moment with you; and I really have a great deal to say, for I have seen a gentleman from Bolton who heard a sermon preached in our church on the Farce day, and all about me. Now must not I come just while I tell you the news? The hour appointed for the two gent.'s to call here is one o'clock. Now, love, if you think it will be more prudent to remain at my post, I will submit cheerfully, although to-morrow I may not see you. My visit to the amiable Misses Laws must be deferred to-morrow, I cannot go and lecture too. Mr. Smith is going, he told me. I saw Mr. Prout last evening, and had a nice chat with him. I have sent you a number of the Co-operative Society. I thought of filling up this bit of paper, but Thomas is waiting. Adieu."

"Now, love, I have just a moment to spare. I assure you that with the exception of the short time it took to prepare your little dinner, my absence from the shop has not amounted to more than half-an-hour. The dinner was rather late, in consequence of my being detained in the shop. I did not fidget about it, because I felt desirous that you should have time to enjoy it. Oh, my dearest Richard, excuse me, but really I must mention the subject that lays nearest and dearest to my heart first, my separation from you; everything else sinks into nothingness in comparison of that greatest of all evils and troubles and trials – my separation; overcome this point, and I will be happy and cheerful and gay. On the contrary, I am sure, I shall not survive a month. It is nonsense to preach patience and philosophy, I'll not hear it, my patience is exhausted and all my philosophy falls to the ground. All my thoughts, all my hopes tend towards seeing you on Sunday. If I am disappointed, I shall bid farewell to all hope. You must insist upon seeing me just once to explain matters of business, etc., etc. Oh, dear, I will see you. Indeed, I must! Now, love, the second trouble. I have sent to Standige's, and they very politely said £15 would satisfy them until next week. I have sent the £15, so let your mind be at ease on that point. Do, do, Richard, if you love me, obtain me an interview; it will reward me for a world of pain and suffering. You know not how this separation presses upon my heart, and to-morrow – But I will not anticipate anything unfavorable, you, I know dear, you will do your best. I wish I was Miss Newell17 for a day or two. Copeland is waiting, love. I send you a Crisis and two oranges, in haste. Bless you. Good night, my beloved, my honored Richard. I hope we shall yet be happy."

And now comes another style of letter.

"Isis to her well-beloved Richard – 'Happiness'.

"I was surprised by a visit from two ladies last night after nine o'clock, and who do you think they were? Mrs. Robinson and Mrs. Brooks, they wondered what had become of me, and felt anxious to know. Mr. Owen has likewise been very punctual in his enquiries, and wishes much to see me."

Phrenologically speaking, her head was said to be the exact counterpart of that of Lafayette, and the similarity was often alluded to by lecturers on the then new and fashionable study of phrenology. While this has been said frequently, the writer thinks a mistake has been made, for having recently seen photographs of the death mask of Lafayette, she can detect no similarity. The head of Isis was purely feminine in form; one cannot say this of the head of the French general, if these masks be genuine.