Thomas Carlyle and Jane Welsh (part 2)

Very evidently from the first there was friction and disagreement which required length of time to disappear. There need be little doubt that this important little matter of the wife's signature was easily the most objectionable feature from Carlyle's point of view, and on every ground is indefensible. Froude apparently drew his own conclusions, but however honestly and firmly believed by himself, these can scarcely be accepted. It would be grossly unfair to Carlyle to admit them. One is bound to say this strange action of Mrs Carlyle is better explained by the overweening “social mesalliance” theory, which she stoutly believed. Had Froude's deduction been the correct one, there would surely have been at least more or less public knowledge of it at the time, and apparently there was no such thing.

The point is of importance if only as proof that from the first Mrs Carlyle possessed little consideration for anyone's feelings, and literally none for those of the man she had married. Whatever excuses were available for her act, she had none for thus inviting the attention of her correspondents to the fact that she had passed with marriage under no husband domination, and had forfeited no whit of status. She, at least, was no Carlyle, marriage or no.

But if Jane Welsh had been reluctant to engage in the matrimonial adventure, she was ready and eager to do her part in the struggle. Home was made attractive for Carlyle. Circumstances soon revealed to the newly-made wife - not to her liking either – what life with a literary man was to mean. Her husband required solitude, as do all highly-strung individuals who have never passed under the stern discipline of necessity. In his mother's house solitude was not an easy thing to obtain, but everyone had been eager to assist him to attain it. His wife recognised a certain necessity, but had not bargained for Carlyle withdrawing himself from her society for the entire day, or well into the evening. She, too, for the first time, was passing under discipline – she who had been encouraged in every childish whim. Both husband and and wife had been in abnormal situations all their lives, subject to no wholesome, imperative control, acknowledging none as master or employer, or even as guardian.


(To be continued)

On Thomas Carlyle and Jane Welsh

Considering its sub-title “An Experiment in Biographical Explication,” Mr R S Craig's “The Making of Carlyle” (Eveleigh Nash, 10s 6d net) demanded a preface. However, the main title is clear enough. Mr Craig has brought much research and intelligence to bear on the Scottish upbringing, early friendships, courtship, and marriage of Carlyle. In a word, this book is a study of Carlyle's environment in his formative years, and it is of fascinating interest. I quote this week some detached passages on Carlyle's first years of married life, in which Mr Craig's independent views are exhibited.

The honeymoon began with an instantaneous flight to their own house in Comely Bank, Edinburgh. They were married probably quite early in the morning, to admit of the long day journey by coach thither. Wedding-feast there was none, since no attempt was ever made by either party to “put a face” on things. Appearances deceived, and the Carlyles avoided whatever might deceive! In Scots law marriage is a contract. Carlyle believed the ceremony could represent nothing else, and it did represent nothing else. Yet his marriage was a true marriage from the highest as from the lowest point of view, as lofty, as spiritual, and eternal as ever human marriage was, in whatever form or by whatever ceremony celebrated...

From a passage in the “Reminiscences of Jane Welsh Carlyle,” it would appear that for some years after her marriage Mrs Carlyle persisted in signing herself by her maiden name. The passage in question may be found on page 128 of Froude's edition, and is as follows: “From her my Jeannie was called 'Jane Baillie Welsh' at the time of our marriage, but after a good few years, 'when she took to singing 'Jane Welsh Carlyle,' in which I never hindered her, she dropped the 'Baillie,' I suppose as too long.”


(To be continued)