pothouse amours of picaros and their doxies.
The chivalrous conventions of the heroic romances had
degenerated into the formalities of gallantry, the
exalted modesty of romantic heroines had sunk into
a fearful regard for shaky reputations, and the picture
of genteel life was filled with scenes of fraud, violence,
and vice. As the writers of anti-romances in the
previous century had found a delicately malicious
pleasure in exhibiting characters drawn from humble
and rustic life performing the ceremonies and professing
the sentiments of a good breeding foreign to their
social position, so the scandal-mongering authors
like Mrs. Haywood helped to make apparent the hollowness
of the aristocratic conventions even as practiced
by the aristocracy and the incongruity of applying
exalted ideals derived from an outworn system of chivalry
to everyday ladies and gentleman of the Georgian age.
Undoubtedly the writers of
romans a clef did
not bargain for this effect, for they clung to their
princes and court ladies till the last, leaving to
more able pens the task of making heroes and heroines
out of cobblers and kitchen wenches. But in representing
people of quality as the “vilest and silliest
part of the nation” Mrs. Haywood and her ilk
prepared their readers to welcome characters drawn
from their own station in society, and paved the way
for that “confounding of all ranks and making
a jest of order,” which, though deplored by
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,[1] was nevertheless a condition
of progress toward realism.
Quite apart from the slight merit of her writings,
the very fact of Mrs. Haywood’s long career
as a woman of letters would entitle her to much consideration.
About the middle of the seventeenth century women
romancers, like women poets, were elegant triflers,
content to add the lustre of wit to their other charms.
While Mme de La Fayette was gaining the plaudits of
the urbane world for the delicatesse of “La
Princesse de Cleves” and the eccentric Duchess
of Newcastle was employing her genius upon the fantastic,
philosophical “Description of a New World, called
the Blazing World” (1668), women of another stamp
were beginning to write fiction. With the advent
of Mme de Villedieu in France and her more celebrated
contemporary, Mrs. Behn, in England, literature became
a profession whereby women could command a livelihood.
The pioneer romancieres were commonly adventuresses
in life as in letters, needy widows like Mrs. Behn,
Mme de Gomez, and Mrs. Mary Davys, or cast mistresses
like Mme de Villedieu, Mile de La Force, and Mrs. Manley,
who cultivated Minerva when Venus proved unpropitious.
But although the divine Astraea won recognition from
easy-going John Dryden and approbation from the profligate
wits of Charles II’s court, her memory was little
honored by the coterie about Pope and Swift. When
even the lofty ideals and trenchant style of Mary
Astell served as a target for the ridicule of Mr.
Bickerstaff ’s friends,[2] it was not remarkable