Michael Heath-Caldwell M.Arch
Brisbane, Queensland
ph: 0412-78-70-74
alt: m_heath_caldwell@hotmail.com
File PB110055
Black bordered letter. Mourning letter and mentions Arthur but he died 23 Dec1849
Arbury [Louis Napoleon revolution in Paris, 2nd Dec 1851]
4th December [1851?]
My dearest Stamford,
My being at this place I am quite vexed to think will occasion the loss of a post in thanking you for your very kind letter and its enclosure, like Hamlets gift to Ophelia. The words of sweet perfume “made the gift doubly rich.” I thank you for it heartily. I will not pretend that it is not a very acceptable proof of your affection, but I think you will give me credit for the feeling that as a proof of your affection and esteem its value is doubled to me. Your approbation heartens and cheers me on, in my now lonely course. And no one that has not lived that life of perfect confidence which existed between me and my dearest Arthur can imagine how lonely the one left behind sometimes feels in spite of these good and affectionate and dutiful girls, that it has pleased God in his mercy to give me. I left home last Wednesday with Rosa, for this place. Mr Newdegates, and we stay till Monday. I am in the very heart of the Protectionists, as you well know, (page 2) and can only exhort them to get rid of the name as fast as they can, and look out for some other sobriquet for their party. I have a great esteem I might almost say affection, for Mr Newdigate who is an honest England heart if ever there was one. His mother, who lives with him, for he is a Bachelor, is a lively clever woman, and we have long been intimately acquainted. This Revolution at Paris of course is like a great stone thrown into the waters. But nobody here seems to know more about it. Nor perhaps so much as you do yourself in our hermitage, where you sit and do, what nobody else seems to, hear both sides and weigh contradictory evidences and opinions. I hear now of Louis Napoleon having been known to the Elphinstones as a boy, and reckoned very clever. His mother used to say, “La calme ostination de Louis, via loin.” A Mr Hope who is here met him at the Eglintown Tournament, and when I asked what impression he really received of him said, that he was “a good deal of an ass.” It seems a [thorne, shorne?] I can pick up and tell, being here. But really people talk of little else than the F.Neo and know nothing whatever about it. Louisa and I Thursday sent off for Devonshire, where I have agreed with Aunt Me to pay her board in order that she may stay there during the more inclement part of the (page 3) winter, and thus avoid those painful attacks of neuralgia, which cold seems to produce. One winter well spent I hope, will restore her constitution, which requires a little good care but is, thank God, a good one all found. Rose looks very nice and her singing is much admired here. The others are well. Dear little Adelaide the happiest of happy. And I trust when we have the pleasure of introducing Mr Loring to you, you will say she has good right to esteem herself as she does a very lucky girl. Yes I trust we shall meet in peace and affection at the dear old place in good time next year, though I have not succeeded yet in the object of letting the farm. I thought the matter was accomplished, but when we came to the reference part of the business there proved to be a deficiency of capital. But as I have now had two bonafide offers besides numerous nibbles I trust the business will be accomplished ere long. I am going out a drive with Mrs N but am resolved not to lose another post. Rosa’s love and believe me dearest Stamford your truly affectionate sister,
Anne Marsh.
File PB110061
AMC to Stamford. Late summer, Mary on Malta1850s
Eastbury
6th August
My dear Stamford,
I have just got your kind letter which it was a real pleasure to receive. “Blood is thicker than water,” ones brother is a precious thing and his affection very dear. I do not lose a post in thanks you for it, for I think I see you are much of my opinion with regard to secrets, that few people keep them so scrupulously as they ought. But I assure you this, of yours, has been kept most entirely. We were all aware how very wrong and dishonourable it would be to betray your confidence. Even if we had not, as we did, most entirely acquiesced in your reasons for your injunctions. Where life changes so I rapidly as it does, it is very [rosk?] of any of us to say what our final dispositions may be. What is wise and right today, may become wrong and foolish tomorrow. We all three considered that those sacred conversations, were to be regarded as if they had not been.
I do indeed wish you had courage to come forth, some open and confidential conversation, is always a relief and a blessing. I should find it so to talk over many a little thing, that will not carry by letter. You [‘will’ crossed out] would find Eastbury a very different place. I flatter myself from when you saw it last. We should give you a very comfortable room and bed. And be most unfeignadly glad to see you. I did point out your home to the Heaths when looking over the C.U. Calendar. I was not sorry to give them a testimonial upon my side of whom we belonged to. And very glad to have your name among the Sn Op..
You are very kind to think of Malta. I will not deny that it gives me extreme pleasure when any little thing is added to Richard Crofton’s peculiam, because he so regulates his affairs by the practice of the most [undiniting?]self denial, that he take care never to need it. (page 2) I never saw the persevering self sacrifice carried out by a young man of his age, in exemplary a manner, and with an unvarying sweetness of temper, and without a thought of doing anything hors due common, which adds peculiar grace to it. Therefore, when some little unexpected matter drops into a purse so well ordered and employed, one is delighted. Mary writes letters full of happiness, but things look more warlike, poor dear. At present, however, she seems free from anxiety, may she keep so. I am getting my hay in and have a large crop for the size of the reduced farm. All agricultural matters are looking up, and they are building immensely at Pinner which opens a good market for this place. Farewell, dear Stamford, the hot sun has made my ink thick and I have to much to do this morning that I must make an end.
Louisa returned on Tuesday from the Fens, where she has been enjoying herself. Her pain has not quite left her, so that she still requires care. She and Georgy will be happy to come to you when you summon them, unless, which is possible, G finds an escort, which is very unlikely for some months, to Malta. I have promised her two sisters that she shall join them for a few months there, as it is impossible I can go, and be present at the wedding.
But this war threatening keeps all our plans uncertain.
Ever dear Stamford’s Affectionate sister.
A.M.
File PB110065
AMC to Stamford
Chobham Army camp - 1853
28th July.
My dear Stamford,
As Louisa is still out at the Pells and does not come home till next Tuesday, it has just struck me perhaps you will like to have a letter from me, such as I can write, but my power of writing letters worth reading, if I ever had it, has quite left me, that you might like to have a few lines from me, particularly from Kitlands where we have been paying an in[maigerating?] visit to the Heath family. We went to Kitlands which belongs to the second brother, Mr Sergeant Heath having left another portion of his landed property to the eldest son. And here there was nearly the whole family assembled to meet us. The house is handsome and the grounds about very beautiful and every comfort and luxury to be found. But there is not an atom of flash about the whole party. Everything, I think, just what you would like and approve. Great cordiality, great kind heartedness, perfect simplicity and straight forwardness. The men very clever, each in his way, the eldest son extremely gentlemanlike and quiet. But an admirable talker when he enters into conversation, which he does sparingly as he is unfortunately very deaf. The 2nd son, who is the man who took what his brother calls “a fine degree,” being Senior Wrangler and everything else he could be, is a short and somewhat ugly may, but so gentle in his manners, so much simplicity and kindness and such a fund of information, that ones heart quite yearned to him. He is the Bachelor Uncle and with him Mr and Mrs Whatman live, house keeping together. She is the youngest of the family, was and is still very handsome. Her husband is a very pleasing and gentlemanlike young man, of an old family as you will find in your Burke. And nearly connected with the Bosanquets House. Mr Heath married a Miss Harmon, a connection of the Mr Barnardiston who married Sir Hyde’s niece. Again Mrs Heath, the mother was a Dunbar, niece of Sir John Moore and through the Moores connected with the Edens, one of whom married another niece of Sir Hydes. So we are all linked together. The next brother is a singular original sort of man. Deep in [acron, acrow?] handed characters from Nineveh and in Hieroglyphics which he can read, but he too is simplicity itself. He is Vicar of Brading in the Isle of Wight. Married and has one son. The eldest sister is married to a Mr Harrison, an invalid sort of man, but gentlemanlike and agreeable. She is very musical and we had music and glee singing in the evenings and got them for the love of you and Linley Wood to sing us the Chough and Crow &c &c, which they did very well. So the time passed very pleasantly. There was a good picture of Captain Heath, a remarkably spirited sensible countenance, not handsome, but better. His property is close by Kitlands, not so pretty but quite pretty enough and a very comfortable roomy cottage of gentility, or rather Swiss cottage, which Mr and Mrs Harrison now inhabited but which it is settled they give up to Mary. Captain Heath, if there is no war, expects to [stand, guard?] off in the course of the winter and then will come home until he is posted and gets another ship. It appears that he must serve six years in Peace and three in war as Post Captain to be entitled to be made Admiral, which that done, comes as a matter of course. I think this is all I can tell you of the Heaths. And now I will tell you of our visit to my dear Adelaide in her sweet little Vicarage. It is a miniature place but so elegantly fitted up with all her presents. And Henry’s sense and good taste in furnishing that it is quite lovely. Your Pianoforte came whilst we were there. It is an excellent one and greatly did Adelaide enjoy it after the poor one she had here. They have a large kitchen garden, and nice shrubberies and flower garden, and three good large fields and glebe lying round them, so that one does not feel in the least cramped for room. Their whole souls are in their parish. And as for happiness nothing can be more happy. Love in such a cottage is not very hardly put to it to be sure. Two of the days we were with them we spent at the Chobham camp. The first was a complete holiday, nothing going on but some games among the men running races for plaques given by the officers. Hops[?] and jumps, races with wheel barrows, and so. But we saw the camp interior to perfection under Colonel Eden’s guidance. The common is a large track of undulating Heath ground. The hills commanding fine views into Surrey and towards Virginia Water and the lines of white tents with their scarlet tops, winding among the banks and valleys crossed by the Cavalry tents and the Queens large cantonment, make a striking and picturesque scene enlivened by all the different groups in and out of uniforms just as you would imagine it must be in a camp. The men like the life, but it will cost every poor fellow about a pound in shoes and other articles which will have to be deducted from his pay and this grieves my heart very much. A Sergeant of Cavalry told us too that the horses in their canvas and brushwood stables were much above the average in health. They are, however, well worked and so quiet that they led us behind their (page 4) heels along the temporary stable. An officer, however, told Rose that he would, not for the world, have let her do it in Barracks. Col. Eden’s marquee was a little bit of a place with one bed for himself, a tiny affair and another for Marty, his son, on a visit to him. A little bit of a table and one chair. We made the beds into sofas, and Mrs Eden gave us coffee and he wanted to give us all luncheon at the Mess, but this we declined as it is a very expensive matter to the entertainer. We saw the cooking in those long mounds just as the Illustrated New represents them, but I was rather shocked when the men were bringing home their messes in their kettles to see what a little bit of meat and few potatoes they had to each [those?]. Mary and the officers have made little gardens, and little gravel walks like childrens to their tents, and you see them sitting and reading novels, very comfortably at the door. Twelve privates to each tent. 2 Lieutenants to each tent. A tent for each Captain, and the rank above that is entitled to a marquee. The tents of the privates are carpeted with a very thick mat made of plaited straw. They said it was a little [hole in letter] –ing to the feet. As they have feet to the tent pole, and they could not undress for night. But the officers lend their baths to those who like to refresh themselves in the day. And we saw Colonel Eden’s bath going to do duty with a Sergeant who was just come off guard. The next day was a field day and Lord Rokeby whom we met at Colonel Eden’s said it was the best they had had. It was a pretty sight to see the regiments marching out to take their ground, drums and fifes playing. The infantry and artillery occupied some high hills. The enemy, which consisted of a few sappers and miners and labourers in their shirt sleeves for the M[hole in letter] and o exerted that they dare not oppose force to force, were first assailed by several divisions of Cavalry whose maneuvers were beautiful and whom they were supposed to repulse. They then advanced to the hill and were met by the war of the artillery and the still more terrible [climbing? Clicking?] fire of the musquetry. The infantry being drawn up in lines, of living flesh walls, it made one shudder to think of it. The sight was beautiful, but awful when one thought it was a portraiture of the real. There were about 8,000 men out. I do not know whether you will thank me for all this but I thought it might interest you. Georgy and Rosa, my two companions, best love. And I am, dear Stamford, your affectionate sister Anne M.
File PB110073
Letter from AMC at Linley Wood to Posy.
Early 1860s as May and Chenola Buxton are referred to as young girls.
My dear Posy,
I grumbled shockingly that you did not write to me and now it is Saturday before I write to answer or rather thank you for your letter. I have never ceased to rejoice that you went to my dearest Pauline for I can tell well by recollection of old times, that children, however darling, are not quite enough when a person is [talked?] of their own person’s companion and I did rejoice as you know as soon as you [reckoned, pictured?] going. And as you are there I cannot help fancying that it is a pity not make your stay somewhat longer than a fortnight. But you know best! Well the Buxtons did come that evening they promised for. They had blundered and taken the train that goes to Chester. So they got a carriage at Crewe and arrived comfortably enough just as we were going to tea. Chenola (Richenda Talbot] and May of the girls and the two boys, who I was pleased to think, like to come, for they had their choice. I think both Charles and Emily looked thinner. Emily thinner than when we were in London. Charles, not stout as one would wish. Bertram is very much improved in looks and grown very fairly for the time, such a sweet looking fellow, but reserved and cold [Itty, a dog?] I fancy I tried to talk with him but found it very slow work. But when Amy came the next day and he sat by her at dinner he talked away. The Buxtons next arranged to come Friday and stay till Monday but on Tuesday we got a letter to say that [Aslertdy, ascertaining?] what time they had for the Lakes they thought they had better come Thursday and stay till Saturday instead of Friday to Monday. We had arranged all our little plans, and it was rather provoking, however, of the dinner party I had arranged for Saturday, most could not come. Mrs Wilbraham and a some one who was to come with her changed to Afternoon tea last night. The Dr Croftons who are at Fanny’s and were to come to dinner with them could change to Friday and so all went merry as a morning bell. Yesterday Charles had discovered some very old house in Cheshire so after breakfast off the whole party set by road reaching Amy and her cousin Mrs Crofton who flied over to breakfast. The two boys preferred staying at home, to fish! Catching 2, about the length of your finger. (page 2) The Claytons and Charles Phillips came at dinner as did my General and Fanny and Dr and Mrs Crofton and with the two boys, Amy and her cousin and Louisa. We made a party of sixteen when by mistake[?] Buxtons had only laid for 14 and we were so crowded I was obliged to excuse, for I did not like my reputation to suffer by having it supposed that I condoned such [actiecrepes?] Oh Mr [Dracula?] was there too and had the place of honour at the top of the table. And evidently put aback a little not to find Miss Posey. At [lent?] so the [famed?] fooled mother rather flattered herself, however it was a cordial chatty happy do and everybody seemed pleased and cordial. And the Buxtons had hoped they should meet Charles Phillips. And he is to go and see them if ever he comes to London &c &c. Charles and Emily were so dear and affectionate that it was quite a cordial to my poor withered head, to receive so much of the old affection, I used to inspire, but which now I fancy I must hardly hope for, old and worn and tiresome but enough of these black thoughts. It was a [light?] few hours, but I am sadly feeble so that I cannot now even talk as I used to do except at favourable moments. When I came down this morning, which is always a bad time for me, I could scarcely get the words out of my mouth for pure languor. I got a little talk with Charles about his idea of a universal English speaking peoples joining in this [convertion?] of the Bible English [had, language?] I think he has not given up all hope of it but bides his time. He seemed to have nothing to tell us about the war but what was in the Newspapers. Mr [Merles?] came up to tea with Mrs Walbraham yesterday and was as usual chatty and pleased but nobody came from where they will seem to know anything more than by the Newspapers. I managed to have some talk with Dr Crofton who seems a sensible well bred man and his wife quite sans reprocite. Young Buxton seems much come out, as nice, simple and straight forward as any of our boys, the two little girls, May and Chenola as far as I could see very nice girls, but rather subdued perhaps as begovernessed children are apt to be. My dear love to my Pauline and I do feel so much for her it seems so perplexing to know what to do. The time Leo’s return being so uncertain I admire her fortitude and courage, heaven bless and keep her. I am exceedingly pleased that our Buxton like his visit “better then ever.” He is a [treasure?] to you and something very like it to me, which I am sure you are my Posy from your loving mother, Sisters loved G thanks for your letter.
File PB110077
Letter to Stamford from AMC in Boulogne. [In another letter refers to this Autumn holiday and Adelaide having another baby boy]
5 Rue Parois de Notre Dame
Boulogne S.M
1st September [1856?]
My dearest Stamford,
I have been waiting to write in hopes every post might bring me one of your interesting letters in reply to my last for writing into the [dock?] to afraid always makes me a little nervous, not knowing whether anything I have said might have been uncomfortable or tedious or what not. But I can wait no longer and flatter myself you will like a letter from me. Though I do [dole, dote?] from this Boulogne to which you have such an aversion. But having succeeded in letting my house I was anxious to profit in all ways as much as I could gather as many new ideas. For my exhausted brains and at as little expense of money as possible. And there is nothing like the four hour [transit?] to Boulogne for [ever?] the expense of moving my large party. And the houses are one third less or I might say only half the price, and various other things the same though the actual price of bread and meat is now rather higher than in England. We were also upon a plan to make one party with the Lorings. Henry having his six weeks holiday during which another Clergyman comes to his house as Cobham and undertakes the duty for the advantage of having a change from London for his family rent free. Henry is such an indefatigable conscientious labourer in the Vineyard committed to him, that a holiday or rather vacation of this sort is become indispensible if his health is to stand the fatigue of a large parish (very ill remunerated), so that he cannot afford to keep a curate and has the whole upon his hands. He was quite breaking down at last, and looked very far from well when he came here. But I have been doing all that feeding can do to fatten him. Adelaide all that petting can do to indulge him. His mother sent him £5, to be exclusively laid out in means of health, boating and baths, swimming or riding &c. And we are delighted to see him growing fatter and looking quite well again. Though far from making a holiday of his vacation he devotes from ten till four, five days a week to the study of Hebrew, and every spare moment of time besides to reading [Yiddish?] He has so little time at his busy home. He really is a delightful fellow. So manly, so spirited, so lovely. So sweet in his disposition and the most earnest, serious Christian man that it is possible to imagine. Adelaide too had been a little overworked, her’s is a busy life with her careful housekeeping, her two children and the parish in which she helps her husband in many ways where a woman is invaluable. Of course I was very anxious so to arrange that their vacation should come as cheap to them as possible, and I have succeeded so that they will save a little rather than expend more than usual. The first fortnight they were upon a visit to me, and at no expense but their contribution to house rent. After that we pay our several contingents to the expenses according to head money. But I continue to spare them many expenses they would have when alone. Dear, dear excellent creatures, it is such a pleasure [line crossed out]. I have succeeded in getting a capital house in the upper town for no more than two guineas a week, less than a small one at Tenby. So we are very comfortable. We are a large and rather noisy party. Henry and his wife, Georgy, Rosaland and myself, 5 children, two nurses, besides cook, housemaid and laundry maid. We have plenty of room in this large old fashioned French house, and never get under each others feet. Which is one great means of preserving the unbroken harmony in which we live. Adelaide’s two little boys are perfect pictures of health and vigour. The eldest, John, is growing to the [five, fine?] interesting age. Rides sticks, plays with Noah’s Ark. And fights his way when he thinks himself oppressed, in a manly way that I cannot but like to see, though one is forced to make a grave face at it. The little Croftons are darling children. We are the greatest friends in the world. Grandmama is a sharer in all their little pleasures and confidences. They hang about me and are forever with me. And the pleasure I take in their spontaneous affection is indeed very great. Duke is a very fine little boy. A figure which is perfect enough to serve for a model for a classic sculpture. I suppose this gives promise of a fine figure as a man the only personal advantage one much cares about. I think I see the Caldwell figure coming out again among them.. They will do very well to take it. Two generous headed [?] nice spirited children both, little Amy such a dear and complete little woman.
Letter continues…?
File PB110079
Date needs to be sorted pre-1857
Letter AMC staying with Aunt Me at a Spa, probably Plymouth, with Adelaide - to Posy
My dear Posy,
I have behaved very ill not to have written yesterday as I fully intended, to you my dearest, but we went out directly after breakfast to see the Victualling yard. And after we came in we [put?] to go out almost immediately to the Hoe, to hear the bank play which did not play. And I forgot, that I put off writing till noting[?] you would hardly get it in time. However, I hope you would conclude that if I did not write I did not intend to return till Monday and that if you were in any doubt you would send to Watford when you will get there. I should be glad if your dearest Papa would order the horses to be at Slough about five or six. I cannot learn by Brooks [Brookston?] or by [pere?] when we shall arrive. It may be before 7. It may not be till after 9. we go by the coach, but shall not take the Express as it will save us about twelve shillings. So I cannot learn whether we shall have to wait for the ordinary train or join it immediately we reach Totness. Monday is the day. I have taken my places so there will be no disappointment. Turner [the butler?] will wait till we arrive. At the Hoe we just saw Mr Hosle[?]. Mr Jones and Mr Peter. But not to speak to the first and hardly to speak to the other. Captain Crofton is ill with spasms in the heart, has been confined to his bed, and is still confined to his room. So tell Pauline, I dare say I shall not see one of her very gentlemanlike looking friends to know anything of them. Aunt Me is excessively nice and this place is heartful. My stay here will do me more good than all my other visits. The air is very fine. Fanny is not able to go out much but is a good deal better today. I met Mrs Johnstone, an old Boulogne acquaintance of [Yors?] Corbets &c &c. A very nice woman I remember, when I knew her there. Miss London I have not seen. Mr London is a nice old man, and won my heart by telling me how much your father was esteemed here. And his way of doing business so much liked. So courteous and gentlemanlike and his manners to all with whom he had to do. It seems odd to come to this remote quarter to hear his praises. We drink the water of the Leet, every day. It is excellent certainly. And I drink it with a certain pleasure. I am now going out to an inspection at [Mount Wises?], so must end with dearest love to all. I shall be so glad to be seeing[?] all my darlings again, though very happy here. Adelaide looks so nice, and is I think much admired by Aunt Me. Till my own [wishy?] her letter was like herself only too charming. Every my own little love, tender mother.
File PB110081
AMC to Stamford.
March 17th [1848]
My dear Stamford,
I have been staying in London a few days and I know you like to hear what the world is going about and what it is saying and at this moment it is indeed a strange awful time. And I wish I had picked up more about it. But such anecdotes as I learned you shall have, though they come late and the newspapers will probably have forestalled me. The first person I saw who had been upon the spot was Mrs Austin. She was filled with the distress of the Bourgeoisie, particularly the poorer and smaller dealers in milk, vegetables and so on, and the poor people who carry water to the houses. Their distress was extreme for no money was to be had. Every one was terrified and not knowing what to do next. The letter in the times of Thursday the 9th which I dare say you read was by her. I called upon Lady Capel. She had a letter from Lady [Epes?] who is in Paris. She describes the silent melancholy of the streets, the people going about in mourning, nothing bought but black. And as little bought by any one as possible, everyone endeavouring to save what little money they have. Lord Normanby told Lady Epes that for two days the National Guard were in fear that it would be impossible for them to keep down the Armed Mob. And that a general pillage and massacre would have been the consequence. Guigot at a table where he was dining with Sir Bloder Capel used the expression that in a few months or less, “France would be deluged in blood.” The King shewed the most unaccountable cowardice for certainly he is not really a coward, sitting with his hand before his face, asking everybody about him what he must do. The Queen on her knees before him, telling him there was only one thing left for him to do and entreating him to put himself at the head of his troops, who would have stood by him. “Et mourier en Roi.” But instead of this as he was going to the little hack carriage which carried away french monarchy, french law, french security, french progress, he kept putting his hands to his head and crying, “ne me tuer pas, ne me tuer pas.” Sure never did mans history come to so lame and impotent a conclusion. Rothschild, that is his famous mother, confesses to having lost one million sterling by these events. Jones Lloyd, the great Banker gives the most deplorable account of financial affairs upon the other side of the water. Admiral Parker and his family are just returned. They saw the thieves who attempted to rob the Palais Royal, [shewing?] up in a row like onions in the street. There is something grievous in the …
Letter continues?
File PB110083
Letter from AMC to Stamford, black bordered. [1846?]
My dear Stamford,
Thank you for so speedily complying with my request. I have already made about £8 by my venture but mean to hold a hope to make the £8 £20, when I shall realize and invest in London and Bir[mingham]. Such is the small wise in which I deal. I am sorry I wrote in such furious mood about the Corn Laws. You must have thought me wild, but I am so indignant at the manner in which the [soprentis ?] of the Corn Laws are hailed by Messrs Cobden and Bright that I feel they ought to shew, that they can call names as easily as other people if calling names is to be considered good argument. I do not disguise it that my own [conviction?] as to the justice, policy and absolute necessity of the measure if we are to avoid a second revolution are most strong sincere and considered with the best consideration I can give. My contempt and [cherd?] at the Anti-Corn Law League. My disgust of their unconstitutional proceedings in conspiring to [sworps?] the House of Commons by proposing votes is so strong, that when I am writing my heart out to my intimate friends, it will out. My opinion of Lord John [Russell], is founded upon his late proceedings in defence of principles so lately avowed before[?] And on the opinion of an intimate friend and an admirer of his. I said, “Is he one who would sacrifice a principle to party.” The answer was, “I am afraid he would.” As for Lord Morpeth, I have a good opinion of his heart but a very low one of his understanding. He is just a man to be taken in by the apparent benevolence of this really selfish [coy?] It is for brevity’s sake dear Stamford that I will in this abrupt manner, pray do not think I hold my opinion is worth more than other people’s. All I mean to say is this is my little opinion, and I think it the duty of all people in such a crisis to declare it, theirs. There has, I believe, been a protecting duty upon corn for the last century and a half. The immense taxation of the long war, rendered it necessary to [ensure, reserve?] the duty for the peace. On this principle, that a man who pays heavy taxes in addition to his other expenses before he comes into the market cannot possibly complete with one who comes onto the market unshackled by such burdens. That this is not free trade at all, for one man is taxed and all he asks is that the other man shall be so too. While the war lasted it was a virtual protection, because the [virtual??] former meeting only other …
Letter continues?
File PB110086
Letter with crest to AMC from Sibella Wilbraham [Rode Hall?]
My dear Mrs Marsh,
I regret very much that having no horse I am not able to call at Linley Wood. Can we persuade you with your daughters and Mr Caldwell to give us the pleasure of your company at luncheon at one o’clock. We go into Lancashire tomorrow and do not return till early next week. But if Wednesday or Thursday 12th or 13th would suit you we should be most happy to see you, and I only regret not being able to name an earlier day or to make my request in person. With Mr R. Wilbrahams and my own best regards,
Yours truly,
Sibella Wilbraham.
File PB110088
Letter from AMC to Posy, Post mark 21st July1853
Miss Rosamond Marsh,
6 Waterloo
Kilburn.
My dearest Posy,
Will you tell Hannah I left my note to the Miss Morrisons on the table unsealed I wish she would seal it and send it to the post. We got here very well though it as very late, between one and two o’clock. I hope you and your dearest little scholars have been very good and happy today. My love and kisses to them both. Ever your most affectionate mother,
Anne Marsh.
File PB110091
Letter AMC to Posy,
Post mark
8Nt8 – MR7 1839
TP King Williams St.
Miss Rosamond Marsh
Dr Hollands
25 Lower Brook Street,
Grosvenor Square.
March 6th
Thank you my dearest little Posy for your nice long journal. I feel as if I almost saw more of you when you are away than when you are here with this charming method of telling me all that passes before your eyes and through your dear little head. I am going to send this answer by M. Tollet who goes tonight to pay her mother a visit. And as I have many letters that I must write by her and am not very well today this letter will be not so long as it would otherwise have been. First for business. I have sent you a parcel containing your dressing gown. That lace [tippet?] of mine which you longed for to wear with your black gown, two pocket handkershiefs, your black [tippet, tuffet?] and some pattern stockings for your Papa to get for me and the children. If you want anything in the way of dress do not scruple to get it. You should have had one of those [Chulby?] or [Monpitine de Paines?] at Coopers & Bachelors which your little eye seems to covet. But your poor Aunt Mary is in so sad a state that probably before you had got it made you would not be able to put it on. However, dearest Posy our affairs are no longer in that state that a very close economy is the first duty. A wise economy is the order of the day and it is wise when it can be afforded to have those little matters of dress which make one comfortable. So [‘tell me’ crossed out] get any little matters if you want them. And I will ask your Papa to give you more money as soon as you want it. I hope my dear Emily intends to pay me a visit this Spring, the time of course when it best suits Mrs Holland to part with her but it would be a grievous disappointment to me not to see her. I could not hear of such a thing. However, Easter is rather too early as she could have no sea bathing. You do not tell me how she looks. Your story of that extraordinary little Coo is excessively pretty. She is a very clever child certainly. I am very glad to hear so good a report of your dear Aunt Holland. I shall be very glad to have the trilobite at [-?]. I am going to write to Lucy soon, but if you have an opportunity in the mean time of letting her know that [expect] to secure the Trilobite pray do. Thank you my dear little girl for your offer to work me a little cloth border. I shall like to have one extremely. I am delighted at your good news about your old grievance. Is Emily yet subject to grievances? Now I think I have discussed your letter so I will give you an account of our proceedings. The first few days after you went I think nothing happened, except that [Oustes & Pytocles?] Sir Harry and Mr Piers ran in to shelter from a rain storm on Monday or Tuesday. I forget which. Wednesday we went into town and had a long sit with Mrs Wilkins [Williams?] and found her sister is very intimate with Mrs Gore, the novelist of whom she told us many odd stories
Georgy and Frederica certainly intend to make out a regular friendship which at least will [served?] fine those dear girls,Georgina and Frederica. Thursday we went to a party at Mrs [Hibiters?]. There we met Mr and Mrs Annersley, that pretty creature. Shows made us in some degree acquainted with [Ad, Gen?] Sir James Alexander, the man who has just published his travels in Africa and got whipped very unjustly in the Athenaeum. I was introduced to him. He is a very pretty young man and his got a little wife of 17 that he found at the Cape. I had a little talk but not much as they got up to dance. I arranged with the Annerleys to call us. He is really a very nice sensible young man and she very well bred and pleasing. And I thought they would make a nice acquaintance for your sisters. We had a very pretty little supper and Mrs Hobden played quadrilles which the rest danced. Captain Hobden I like very much.
The next morning being a horrid cold day I put on my dressing gown and plunged over head and arms in dust in my history of [prince,Greece?]. When just as I was in full [joss?] Mr and Mrs Annersley rode [‘over’ crossed out] up to the door. I like him still better by morning light. Sunday the girls went to Church but I was not well and could not go, but spent a sweet quiet morning in our garden. The day was lovely, birds and bees and bells [passing?] at the distance and a fine sun and sweet air. In the evening I was better and went to Church and heard another person being the third since you went, one worse than the other. Monday we were busy in our garden which is getting into beautiful trim[?]. Yesterday I went out in the carriage to call upon the [Hebries?] and the Annersleys and the Mainwarings[?]. It was a terrible cold day, birds and bees and sun all gone and today there is snow. I shall hope in a week from the time you dispatched your last journal to get another. For to receive them is a very great pleasure to us all. Tonight we are going to [John’s, Tole’s?] to hear the 8 Pianoforte concert given, Mr Greenwood having bough us tickets. Now I must go and write to Martin from whom I have had a nice journal too. So farewell dearly loved Posy. Ever your most affectionate Mother, sisters. - - in bed with a bad cold all the rest quite well. My dear love to Aunt Holland. I hope for a letter from her soon. Pray tell her love to dear Emy and a kiss for little Coo.
File PB110095
Letter AMC to Posy, written horizontally and vertically, difficult to read.
Miss Rosamond Marsh
Dr Holland
Lower Brook Street,
Grosvenor Square
Angleterre.
Post Mark BoulogneSur-Mer. 31st Mai 1841
My dearest Posy,
I sit down the day after receiving your very agreeable letter to thank you for it and tell you how much pleasure you give us by your journals and your detailed account of all you see and hear. I hope while you are amusing us you are likewise improving yourself by making this ‘resume’ of all you learn. I will first of all send your sisters their love which they particularly desire to send you and then answer your questions before I go to my relations. Chloe is not yet found. Some say she went away mad but I hope it was not so. Others that she has been taken on account of her puppies which are in great request here, and that when the puppies are born she will manage to escape to us. I own I thought the last week she was here she was less affectionate than usual and looked ill but I attributed it to her being so large and heavy. I am still in that she will appear, particularly as we shall be here a month or two longer probably, till the end of August.
I am beginning to be very impatient for your back, but I fear your papa will not return till the end of July. I you should hear of anybody coming over in the meantime whose party you could join I should be very glad of it. I will look out here. Perhaps Mrs Browne will be coming here presently and I am sure she would bring you with pleasure. You will be dying to hear what we have decided upon, as we have decided, but I will not tell you till we have got an answer to our proposals should we all anxiously expecting it is not Old Windsor Lodge however. I found your Papa is nervous and anxious that it was absolutely necessary, right or wrong, that he should be immediately relieved so I jumped to a conclusion in an hours time every body here is well pleased and never was a more united cabinet. But the King will not publish his intentions till further progress has been made as he is quite tired of talking about it. We find a thousand happy plans and have consulted Mr Browne about our [doing soon curtains?] Your Papa leaves us early on Tuesday morning, quite a renewed man. The first day after his arrival when I [‘saw you’ crossed out] parted[?]. I thought he looked better than I expected but that was merely the spirits from our [Medow Medicine?] The next day he looked so ill, that I concluded immediately and from that time he has been quite a changed person. I chose[?] what I believe he in his heart like the best, and I hope all will prove right in the end. On Sunday we all went to Church and had as usual a rather sleepy sermon from good Mr [Tapnele? Tufnell?]. We walked on the port and I went to Church twice which tired me very much. Going we met Mr Burne and I arranged with him to let his two little girls come to spend Tuesday with us, and himself to dine. I asked Mr Page Turner and Mr [Bediphels?] and Mr Gillies. We had a beautiful neat little dinner by Madelaine and the [?] for Theodore has made himself quiet into a cook by his lessons but the little girls shall not come. I have some suspicion it was because I did not ask the french governess which I however, don’t intend to do, as I was trusted with Ady for 6 weeks I think I may be trusted with her for a day. The children were sadly disappointed so on Wednesday meeting Miss Groves at the [Rendom?] I asked her to ask Mrs [Herene?] to let her children come to drink tea. Mrs and Miss B being going to England which she did with their french Governess and very different sort of affair from Mademoiselle H Marie. A widow lady like sensible person just such as Mrs Burne ought to have had. Tuesday there was a Picnic given by the boat. I think I told you of the Gen Bassett Bedingpel[?], Page Turner and Parker. We were some of us carried up in boats and the rest in carriages of the [land?] party were your Papa and I and Fanny, for the day was so delicious that we ventured to take her and the fresh air and [amount?] did her a great deal of good. The dinner was given by the boat and was plentiful and good. There was Mrs and Miss Barnett, Miss Bedypal[?], Lady and Miss Ramsay, Cecilia and Major Martin. But Mr [Hips?] who was at our ball, with cousins and sisters, Miss Shakespeare, affectation itself, an agreeable Mrs Warbarton and daughter. In all about 30 people and it was a hard fatiguing pull up to Pont de Bassie in the boats and took them two hours. We M’s returned to land but those who came by water did not get home.
James’ butler and Mrs Burne. Madelaine’s friend the chef who has been teaching her has been dressing the dinner which promises to be truly elegant. We have a few in the evening arriving others the Macleods who all came back. I asked to this dinner the Hobhouses, the Parkers, the Bridj Moss and the Tufnels and the Kennedys, so I got a great deal of civility done, and it is the last dinner I mean to have here. I have done a sufficient quantity of duty, the only persons I regret are Mad.[Bianca Leone? Broncaleone?] who is ill, and who really seems a very charming person. She is connected with the Grove’s, one of their sisters having married a Hobhouse. Her refusal was on account of illness and so kindly worded that it will energize me to try at further communication. We had also done duty by Marian[?] and [Rad, Brad?] Warburton who all come back to live here, looking as happy as it is possible to be, he has bought 4 acres of the hill behind our garden wall and is going immediately to build himself a house there, which Madame Warburton [enjoys?] entirely the old Baron and he seem to have made all up so that business promises to end as happily as a modern novel. Lady Lyon goes to England next week. She sent me last night a M.S. of hers to read. I was [honor shack paing?] I should not like it. It has however, interested us so much that we could not lay it down and sat reading last night till 11 o’clock. I did not [think?] she could have written so well. We have seen a [great?] deal of her lately and I am learning to like her. She has a good deal of clever and right mixed up with what is [concise and heavy?]. Now dearest Posy I have given you an account of our proceedings, not quite as interesting as yours, who are in the centre of [Mass?] I am just sending [to like inbods?] to see Madmoiselle Rachel who is to act here. They say as she passes through. I shall be glad if I adore her as I did Mad. Freville. Give my dear love to Mrs Holland. I hope her [fistora?] is better and I am very sorry to hear of it. I do not hear whether hot weather is bad for it. It do miss my lovely lamb for me, often think of the weak thing, and my dear love to Emy and kisses to Coo. Ever your most affectionate mother, my sweet Posy.
I had a very affectionate letter from Jessie Creed in answer to mine. The – to them pretty good. Another from Aunt Do, Nesther is delighted with her [collar?] and is already setting about doing good. I will write to Mrs Holland of Hepworth as soon as ever I know her plans. Will you tell Miss Louisa with my kind love, I am only waiting to know about to say. Dear love to Susan He.
File PB110099
Letter from Fanny Marsh in Boulogne to Posy.
Miss Rosamond Marsh,
Dr Holland’s
Lower Brook Street,
London.
Friday March 16th. [1838 written]
My dearest Posy,
I am afraid you will think we have all been very idle in not having any of us yet answered your last long letter.
About your silk frock in the first place, Mama wished you to get it (if you have not already done so) as soon as you want it, the mantilla also if you think it necessary. Mama says she is sure Mrs Holland will be so kind as to give you her advice about it. As for the play, my dear Posy, I hope you and Emilly will not be very much disappointed, but we are none of us in spirits enough to think about such a thin at present. Besides Mama thinks it rather too soon after our mourning. We heard the day before yesterday from the Giffords. They are all quite well. They did not tell us anything in particular. Caroline wished very much to write to you, but their was no place for her.
I was in town for the first time today, since my illness. I went to see the Kennedy’s, Elvira is a great deal better. She was looking very well and had just come in from the head of the pier, where she had been to see her uncle off, who has been staying with them for three days. Mama went today to enquire about [éclairs, Delacoix?] for our drawing master, but he is not in Boulogne, and will not return till next month, which is provoking. I have begun my piece unaccompanied, by M. le Roux on the violin, which I like very much. I suppose you will do the same, when you come back.
We are getting on with our cushion for Aunt M. I think it will be very handsome when finished.
How have you enjoyed your visit to the Holland’s
Lady Gifford has just got a green and brown parrot, of whom Jane complains very much: it is to speak. I shall then for most certainly take Stella [a dog, parrot?] to Scotland if we go as they cannot laugh a me for bringing my child, when they have got one themselves.
The children have been very busy in the garden lately and promise us salad and radishes. They have marked of little pieces of ground about a foot square in which they scratch up the soil, put in their seeds and then scatter a little more soil over them. Mary was obliged to cover her refractory seeds over again today as they were found most unaccountably being with nothing over them. Poor seeds! When will they come up I wonder.
I hope my dear Emily and Posy you will not utter one groan and expire with disappointment at being obliged to give up your play, perhaps when you come we may be able to think about at the Talisman. I think would be difficult at most impossible to act, so many male characters, and then the dresses! How could we possibly contrive armour, and how could Sir Kenneth appear cloathed in silk.
We have had very fine weather indeed lately, a most extraordinary thing for Boulogne, every one says; Captain Kennedy threatens us with a change and says we shall have no more fine weather after the new moon which is next Monday. Being now reduced to the weather as a last word, I think it is high time to conclude my letter.
Pray give my dearest love to Mrs Holland and Emily and Miss Gray for me, though I daresay she does not remember her cousin Fanny.
Goodbye my dearest Posy, I want very much to see you again.
Your most affectionate sister,
Fanny M. Marsh.
FilePB110102
Letter to Posy from Louise Marsh Caldwell 1838
Boulogne
Marsh – I don’t know.
Dearest Posy,
You will think me a most good for nothing girl not to have written to you before this but however it cannot be helped if you do, and I am sure it is beyond my power to give you any good reason why I have not. We are all at last I am thankful to say, going on smoothly here and I hope poor Mama will now soon recover all her fatigues. The people are frightening us to death here by telling us we [?] expect no descent weather till June. Boulogne certainly is a most detestable place, don’t you think so. Eloise [Elvira?] Kenney is, I am delighted to say, much better, though she has still now and then fits. We are going to have a drawing master which rejoices me very much and are going to make ourselves admirable sketchers ready for a certain country which you know of. We still feed in these parts on hope but you, I suppose, get more substantial food at [Brook, Bank?] Street, happy girl! I am very sorry to hear such [sad?] indifferent account of Mrs Holland but I hope now that [‘decent’ crossed out] fine weather comes she will soon get better
[cross writing]
I am pleased beyond measure with your accounts of Coo’s [Caroline Holland?] [passions?] they are such nice children, those passionate ones there is a way of getting at their hearts which with the staid ones there sometimes is not. When do you think Miss Rosamond of returning to the bosom of your family? Soon I hope. I am very glad to hear you are going to bring Emily with you. I wish you could bring them all. I do so long to see all the cousinhood again. Mama is wanting me to write for her so dearest Pashilia with love to Mrs Holland, Emily and one of my rare and best kisses to Coo.
Ever your most tenderly affectionate
Louise Marsh
We are going to have some drawing lessons. I hope you approve.
Mama desires her best love to you, Mrs Holland and Emily.
PB110103
Letter to Posy from
Friday March 16th 1839
Miss Rosamond Marsh,
Dr Hollands
Lower Brook Street,
Grosvenor Square
London
Anglaterre.
Post mark 25th Mar 1839.
My dear Posy,
I have only just time to answer your letter by return of post. I cannot comprehend the plan for Martin, but all I have to say is I will give my consent with pleasure to any of your dear and kind Aunt Holland’s plans for getting him to the ball which I am sure he will enjoy very much, and which I should be particularly happy that he should be at. Pray give my dear love to her and tell her I give her charte blanche to arrange everything and that I am very much obliged to her for taking so much trouble to plan for him. Tell her too that I wrote a letter to her by your papa but that it was penned in doleful damps thinking I must give up my visit, but your papa begged I would not quite give up in despair. So I burned my letter and I still hope to get to her for two or three days. We had a happy two days with your dear Papa and Sir Hyde [Parker] who was just his old self only a little or rather a sad guest [dene fatter?]. He dined with us one day. In the morning we drove about in our little carriage looking at houses for Mrs [Gris?] and dined with him afterwards at Colonel Parkers. The next day they went away. I am very glad you get on so well with your singing, but I shall not be content it should be your only accomplishment. Drawing I expect you to excel in. I am sure you will too. Bessy and Mary are going on very nicely. Love to our dear Emy [Emily Buxton/Holland]. I shall be so glad to see her. And so happy to see my dear Mrs Holland [Saba Smith/Holland] and Coo [Caroline Holland] for a few days. I have been dining out with Miss Mainwaring and are so tired that I cannot write one line more. Write to Martin and make him understand what he is to do for indeed my love I cannot understand you. Continue your journals my dear Posy, they are a great pleasure to me, but write more legibly. In the first place I don’t write so badly as you do. In the second if I did I would not allow you to do so. I am an old woman, too old to mind, you are a dear little saucy girl who wont a great deal of mending. With love again to all from all here, ever in haste your most affectionate mother.
File PB110105
Letter to Posy from AMC
Miss Rosamond Marsh
William Marsh Esq
York Gate
Regents Park
London
Angleterre
5
[‘41’ in later ink written on it.]
[‘WB’ written over address]
Post Mark – 17th July 1841
My dear Posy,
I am very sorry to refuse you but I think it is time you should now return home. You have had a great deal of pleasure and been longer away than I at all wish. Besides I hope Emy [Emily Holland] will return with you as your Papa told me Mrs Holland had written to offer her to us and I hope she will come, as the Dr is very anxious she should have some sea bathing. However at all events I would rather you now returned home. I was delighted with your last journal letter and was going to write to you again my dear little girl, but hoped to see you so soon that I did not do it. I think it is your sisters turn to have a little pleasure now, but I am sorry to refuse you however. I am quite decided in wishing you now to return home. There will come a parcel to York Gate direct to you for Mrs George Eyres. It is her riding habit. Will you bring it with you. I hope you will not ask your Papa to let you go, for if I thought you would I should write to him to night to say I would rather he did not grant your request. However, I hope dear Emy is coming and
then there will be no question about the matter. I write in great haste and do not think I am in the least [displined?] with you my love, for asking to go. There was no harm in that certainly. I really very much desire now to see you at home again. And there is another reason none of these journeys can be done without expense and we are denying Fanny her journey upon that account. It is true you would go down without expense but how and when would you come back. I hope your Papa will bring you and Emy over next Sunday. Dear love to your Aunt Georgy and your Grand Papa. Ever your truly affectionate mother,
Anne M.
File PB110107
Very badly written letter, difficult to read from Emily M Holland
Miss Rosamond Marsh
Nr Le Barons Deslyourd-Fieubiu
Capecare
Boulognes/mer
Post Mark
21 SP 1841
Crulie Hosey [?]
Thursday
My dearest Posy,
I don’t know how long it may be before the letter reaches you, but as Papa told me he thinks [Wil, Lieut?] Marsh is going [arrive?] soon, I am afraid to put off writing any longer for fear I should miss the opportunity for sending by him which I wish to do in order that it may [purchase?] a letter from you in return which I have been half hoping for the last month as you promised to write – [word?] his affairs went on and I [counted?] it very faithless of you to -- -- far particularly as I had at that time great [dearth?] of tidings about you, every letter I wrote to Papa I begged him to tell me something about you, yet letter after letter arrived from him in which you were not even mentioned. In short I was left to my own imagination which did not fail to [petrify?] me. Ideas that the imagination about Eastbury – had you – and downs other unpleasant -- but at last Papa came in propria persona and I was able to question him about all he knew of you and most delightful news I got. So you will actually be [installed?] in England by the time we return to town. It is almost too good to be true. All those [evenings?] –ed fits of despair we wish to have you not needed, and the many prophesies that you would remain at Boulogne for ever have proved false. Not less delighted was I to hear that Fanny is so much better, and her [enterby?] but her cough I hope it has dis [dismissed?] it for ever, and this disagreeable [water, trut?] will even miss its return. Pray give her my dearest love and tell her how sorry I was to miss seeing her in town. I had depended upon getting a little peep of her however it does not so much – missing her if your not – as so shall not have the sea bathing as in future:
Second page
Hope shall see each other very often. How busy you must all be [sure?] preparing for yor departure. I suppose you are working careful [rock] all day long. How many [sifes?] are changed since her [you done since I left you. What do you think we do [m?], actually begin another - - -and before the first is finished - - - after yours we shall get them both finished, certainly not sooner.
We have been at this place ever since we left London, except one little expedition to Lynton, where we staid a week, Papa joining us there and returning to this place, when [no less?] the children. He left again last Tuesday, taking the boys with them to their respective schools. [Lyatn, Cyatn?] is a most lovely place, certainly the most beautiful I have ever seen, for it has the beauties of twenty other places put together, high perpendicular [soms?] covered with overhanging woods, some [bold and barren?] the [s--?] a rocky streams and picturesque cottages and bridges and all combined to make a succession of beautiful views: Papa confessed that the valley of the Lynn is just like Switzerland in miniature. I wish you had accompanied us to enjoy it with us, and have sketched with Mama and me, though we did not do a great deal. There was much to see in that few days we had and we had likened a – proposition of never one whole day, we would not stay out, but when it was fine he –having been happily taking immensely long walks, you who so soon complained of being tired, would have been quite knocked up but I think the [German?] of the plan enabled us to do more than at other times for Mama had not a hope of asthma while there and was able to do as much as we did. Our hotel was at the top of the [Stape’s?] hill. I was [mivaaited?] coming up in the carriage, it was really quite frightful though we had fine horses they have so careful horses that accidents rarely happen. We were –
3
Of the only overthrow which has taken place for several years and that was entirely the man’s own fault. Our favourite was one which Mr Sandford (the Grandfather of the Mr Sandford, in making whose acquaintance you dispersed[?] with the usual forms of introductions) has cut along the cliff, which [descends?] almost perpendicularly into the sea, and is broken with a thousand forms above your head. This is about a mile and half of this wild path and you return to Lynton by the Valley of Rocks, is not a very delightfully sounding name and it is exactly what the name expresses. And my having conducted you over Lynton I return to this place which we are now left in possession of the house for Grand Papa and Grand Mama set off this morning to spend a few days at Sidmouth. Baby is very much [measured?] both in length and breadth since you saw. She grew on average a pound a week [hire?] and claims the name of ‘Porridge Pot’ Grand Papa has given her. I am afraid her accomplishments do not [nusiea?] in the same ratio. She still disclaims to touch the earth with anything but the [comfress?] of her toes and can only totter a few yards alone. She did [hole in letter] her own tongues with great eloquence giving intimation to her [hole in letter] that you understand all she say, but does not [hole in letter] half a dozen words of the Queen’s English. [safor?] not seem to h- [hole in letter] - - her stick, which as a young lady of her [month, mouth?] is being very [ielle?]
I suppose you are full of sentiment upon leaving Boulogne, now that you really are to leave it. I begin to have more kindly feelings toward it than formerly, and do not feel so strong a wish that I may never see it again. I am sure my confessing this will raise me many [sogues?] in Aunt Marsh’s estimation. Well, you remember me to Mr and Mrs Eyres, I suppose Mrs G Eyres has left Boulogne. I think you might have [directed, delivered?] me a letter by her. Did Col. Eyre return again to take her back.
[Address page]
I hope you were not of the party shut up in the theatre. Papa’s plans have been very much disarrayed by the change of time in the meeting of Parliament. Everybody stayed in town during the elections so he could not get out. He came down to us with difficulty for a few days last week, and if he is able.
To do so he talks of taking off for Spain on Saturday, dining with the Duke of Palma at Lisbon, staying a day or two at Cintra, and [homiling, holidaying?] at Oporto and Vigo on his way back. He will be about a fortnight absent. This plan will give him a great deal of sea[?], so he hopes he will accomplish it though it is rather late in the year. So the nomination[?] or Opposition as they might be called here are really out at last. Everybody seems heartily glad of it, even the Whigs have not any great objection to it. The country was thoroughly tired of them. All the new appointments are approved of, except by the old [man?] Papa dined with the Duke of Sussex at a sort of farewell dinner, where they were all assembled (and it is very amusing he says, to hear them criticizing all the nominations. Lord Aberdeen, who is now Minister for Foreign Affairs is a great friend of Papa’s, and wrote him long letters on publick affairs if he continues to it. Thus we shall be always au fait in what is going on. Lord Netherston who is First Lord of the Admiralty Papa is also very intimate with. The Queen seems reconciled to her fate now. Sir Robert Peel has said that he will make no objection to her seeing Lord Melbourne as often as she likes.
I think I told you that Papa knows him, and he called on him at the Guards Club, the day after I returned. I suppose he returned the call but I have not heard anything more about him. If he has been to Boulogne. I am sure you have had no fear[?] about the moustaches, for he talked so much about them that it was evidently intended to be a standing joke. He is just the sort of person to make a joke last for ever. But it is very wrong of me to abuse him in any way. He was so extremely good natured to me. How did your fetes go off; I saw an account of some description concerning them in the papers.
[page one vertical]
Do you remember a letter Marie wrote to me at Boulogne telling me of an offer Miss [Cecelia] Parks had had and which I construed with a refusal. I find I was mistaken, she accepted the gentleman Sir Matthew Ridley his name is. He is so very amiable they say and has ten thousand a year, but is not over and above him, and is governed by a detestable mother [her is so choosey?] they will be very happy together. She is soon to make him a good wife, she is such a very nice girl.
The Great Western Railroad is now opened to Bridgeton[?] which is not more than 14 miles from here so we came down by it and the journey which formerly took ..
…us there be now accomplished in 9 hours. More than that, Papa in less than 24 hours after he saw us start received a letter telling him of our safe arrival 150 miles off. It really [great?] annihilation of time and space. The only drawback is the tunnel in which you are 7 minutes which 7 minutes appear so many hours it is like descending into the depth of the earth. There is such a damp earthy feeling about it which together with the [sicklund?] light that fled by you from time to time during – the screeching of the engine, you give it much the appearance of the infernal legions and this pleasure is not universal by the dread of feeling the train stop any moment by the engineer getting off the rail he had heard of several instances of people having been kept an hour or two in the place, owing to the rails not being so well laid down [there, even?] no [closition?] as the train had to back in the dark. Not that you escape getting off the rail in other parts of the line for this happened to Papa and the boys as they returned to town. It was at the place where an accident had happened two days before and all had probably not been put to right again. So quickly he found out what had happened by [crutining?] a guard talk to – from about it. They keep everything so secret that happens which is very [wrong, busy?] I think though there is not really much danger people ought to know the full extent of it. Frank, I think I told you, has been staying a week at Portsmouth with [Fudrun?] he came back with his head full of steam engines, not as I had imagined he would with his head full of the charms of the sea as he associated there with nobody but nobody but sailors. His stint there has on the contrary caused him of any – that way which I am glad of, as Papa would never have liked[?] him to be a sailor. If you write to find the way to his heart now you must talk about
[rulers?], [vaintrins?] [damper?] and [disenfoLeachines??] book on the Steam Engine which he [dicland?] on many with great emphasis to be almost as good as a novel. Harry has been staying at Knutsford since first of his Michaelmas, studying mathematics like a good boy. I must finish and go into the garden this lovely morning, if you are going to remain at Boulogne I should consider it my duty to cross the whole sheet but by the end of next month I shall be able to – as often as I liked. I hope our commiseration will be – on at a bricker [quicker?] set than heretofore, if the last four years too have
[Hole in letter – writing crapulously difficult to read.]
… want to see Eastbury …out the garden, planning buying fountains, and arranging everything… think it will be a great plague. I am afraid Aunt Marie will find it tiring, but with 6 daughters help her she cannot her mind to do. Dearest love to those all and yourself cher Posy, from your – cuz Emily Holland.
File PB110111
Letter to Posy from AMC– Post Mark 29th April 1841
Miss Rosamond Marsh
Dr Holland
Lower Brook Street
Grosvenor Square
London
Angleterre
Tuesday
My dearest Posy,
They say you will be longing for a letter my dearest little girl and so I am resolved to send you one though it will be but a short one I fear for I have been extremely busy all morning and at 2 Mrs Atherson [Atkinson?] is going to take me out that we may go together and call upon Mrs Eyres. So you shall have all I can give you till then and that must content you meine liebstes. I was very glad my dear Mrs Holland’s ball went off so well and that you all enjoyed yourselves and that you and Emily looked nice in your white frocks and pink roses. The dress par excellence, and that dear Franky is better. I have been in a state - uncomfortable enough about these houses. With much reluctance I have almost given up Old Windsor Lodge. I think at least that it must be given up. I fear the lowness of the situation for Fanny, who does so long to be upon an elevation that I think nature speaks for her. I was much disappointed that they would not however, let us try it for a year, for we might have found that the gravel wall did away with the ill effects of position. But to buy it without a trial seems too dangerous. I am very anxious to know what your Papa thinks of [Meyrick?] Lodge. If we can take that upon trials for a year it will, I think, certainly be the best plan. At all events we must come over before the 8th of June and take a hired house for I begin to feel sure that till we have crossed the water we shall not be able to decide upon a house. You cannot think how lovely our garden is, such showers of cherry blossoms. And such loads of apricots and the brightest sun and the gayest sound of human life in the air. Such a hum of children at play, drum of soldiers, toll of clock, sound of bells. Certainly this is the most cheerful house in the whole world, inconvenient, crowdy and dirty as it is. We are going to have a grand dinner party tomorrow. The Eyres, Barnetts, John Atkinson and the Packers and a few people in the [Coly, evening?]. Magdelein has improved wonderfully by her lessons and I expect such a dinner. We called upon Lady Catherine and [Mr? John?] Flemming[?] the other day and found them living very simply together, busy with their garden and seeming to intend to be good and happy. He drives his wife to church in his [‘little’ crossed out] beautiful phaeton every Sunday. All which seems to promise well. I think to ask them to dinner next week. The Hobhouses too all come back and I hope to cultivate them to better effect than I did last year. I shall not however, have much time for all this. I hope your Papa will come and see me once more before we go to England and then I shall ask him to bring you over, for I very much wish you to have a few more lessons before we have finally done with the dear old place. I am sorry to say Fanny has got a fresh cold and I am obliged to nurse her again. She went to Church on Sunday and then to the end of the Pier where it was too cold. I hope however that with good care I shall prevent any very ill consequences. The rest are all very well. This is a horrid letter but I have a horrid pen. And Theodore must take my letter into town. Write to me again my darling, a journal letter. Give my dearest love to Mrs Holland and to sweet Emy, and kiss Coo and my lovely lamb the baby for me. Ever dearest Posy, your tender affectionate Mother.
File PB110115
Emma Caldwell to Anne Marsh, 28th March 1818
Linley Wood
March 28th Saturday.
My dear Anne,
Still another plan. And I must write to tell it you. I am disappointed of [Mr Lee?] Miss Richards does not go and I did not affection a journey with two strange gentlemen. So there is an end of that schemes. We have at last settled that I will be the [hard?] thing for me to come with Stamford from Birmingham in his gig. He will set off probably on Sunday – which is tomorrow – and we shall arrive either Tuesday evening or Wednesday morning. We shall get to St. Albans on Tuesday and I think it would be a grand thing to come on in a chaise on Tuesday and leave the gig for the Servant to bring. But this can not be quite settled yet. I will let you know when it is. This plan will make me a day or two later and this I do not like but for all other reasons I think it the best. Stamford seems very well pleased at this thoughts of escorting and I have no doubt will take the kindest care of me. He does this when you are trusted to his protection. I have the day to be packed on and on, his [thin?] is such a positive certainty that it makes me feel comfortable and secure. Besides my mind is eased of the pain of causing my kind brother Arthur the disagreeable price of journeying. I know he would do it willingly and I am just as much obliged as if he came, but if I can arrive without, I shall be very glad and spare him. Thank you for your kind little letter last night. I write[?] now because I thought I would tell you my plan myself. I suppose you got [karf’s?] letter from Betley and will deign her an answer now she has written. You cannot think how sorry I am that you have thought our letters scarce. I do not know how it could happen and it is a pity indeed that those should not have enough of my letters who like them. It is too extraordinary a complement to be neglected. My Aunt Eliza and I go to Birmingham on Tuesday next. My stay there will be longer than I intended but they asked me so kindly that I do not scruple. How happy it makes us all to have the dear Anne is so strict as to walk to Queen Street. I always feel a little bit of fear least you should do a little too much when you feel [nlight?]. I hope you will take care. Miss Sarah [Wedgwood?] says you looked very well. If you see any of them will you be so good as to say that I do not wish to take the Concert ticket from the Darwins which they have and dispose of, for next Friday [mtone?] Miss S.W. offered it to me, she refused it, and begged I would say whether I wished to take it. – when I wrote to you. I am sure I shall much rather sit at home with you the day [Mtone?] after I see you, than go to the finest concert in all the world. I am sorry I shall not see the Darwins. They seem [very?] happy [and are?] very glad you like them. Eliza came home yesterday from Betley and brought a poor account of Mrs W [Sarah Wedgwood 1734-1815?]. She is never entirely free from pain for half an house together and I fear her complaint is gaining ground upon her. I do pity her with my whole heart and she cannot help seeing her situation. I think ought to have more advice. Dr Darwin evidently can do nothing for her. If I were Mr W I would never rest till every advice was taken that there is the remotest chance might be useful. She speaks of Eliza W. as the greatest comfort to her and is quite aware how deeply interested she is for her. She is still at Shrewsbury. I had a letter from E.W. from Paris. They seem all to be very comfortable and I am very glad they have got Mrs Glifford and Sismondi there. It will make Paris twice as agreeable. Whether [a evening it?] there is I think very uncertain though I shall be very sorry to lose so fair an opportunity. I think the family is better never to take to making schemes again for we make sad work of it and the more we try to settle the more they float away from us. Penelope J and C.W. staid two days with me and by the help of Stamford they passed off very well. Jos dined with us again yesterday. He has been attending a pottery meeting and voting a petition to Parliament against the principle of Sir R. Peels Bill and I think he might as well have let it alone. He is gone a hunting today and wished and [instinct?] is quite got quite [bushy?] now he has independent and free to act as he pleased. If his family would stay away a year or two instead of a month or two there might be some hopes of his still coming out, what nature intended him to be. Our trees here are not budding the least, we have snow regularly every other day. So that the gardens are quite blank except a vain attempt or two of the silly impatient, little primula’s to show some of their finery. We might have nice picking of plants from Mrs Wilbrahams garden for her plants are to be sold and Autumn will [draw?] will as Spring and we will see what we can get when you are here. And how I look to that time Eliza and I have been reading a book upon the [mechanics?] of language and I long to prove some of his ideas by seeing whether your little baby says mama or papa the first thing. As whether it makes a sound in A’s throat first against all elymodogical rule. I think I shall [whatch?] to see A’s young ideas begin to speak all day long. Elizabeth says you showed her an exquisite frock. I would I had been there to see. We have [admires?] with weather. I fear the ice is still melting already they say the corn is suffering. Now I am descended to corn and weather I shall stop. I cannot well write any more as I [be me?] a gathered finger. Farewell dear Anne. All beg me to give their best love and mine - - you know how well I love you. Ever your affection M
File PB110119
E.L. Caldwell to Anne Caldwell 1812
Post mark No.1
Miss Anne Caldwell
Linley Wood
Nr Lawton
Cheshire.
Temple
July 14th Tuesday 1812
My dear Anne,
I write to send you word that we shall have the great pleasure of seeing you all again on Friday evening and most happy shall I be for it seems a long time since I had the pleasure of seeing all the dear Linley Woodites. Mary has not been quite so well lately and has had a good deal of pain in her side this day or two but the laudanum has done her good. However, she is better and I hope it will quite leave her today. I am afraid Matlock has not done her so much good as it ought to have done but first the weather and then not being so well has prevented her from taking proper exercise. If we should chance to be a day later you must be not be surprised although I think it will be the first day we even tried. It will be a great addition finding Stamford at home for I suppose he is now with you. Emma sent me word you expected him in a week but without staying to consider I wrote to her in London and of course he will be gone before it arrives. If the poor unfortunate animal should march after I beg you will take possession of it as being the first letter I ever wrote to him it will give him a most paltry idea of my powers of letter writing and most unfortunately I forgot the Esq., a great emission but as it is only I think the second time that I ever directed to a gentleman it must be my excuse. The first did not succeed to him. Then this if you will mention spurs Emma can give you an account of to whom I mean. We have not seen a single soul that we know since we last wrote and this last fortnight has passed in complete solitude. Matlock is thin as it can be, not a person to stay more than a day. It looks quite forlorn. We have only got two parties in the house. Three young ladies who are none of the genteelest and the Wilstons. The only communication we have with the latter is their coughs and the paper and we are very grateful for this civility as Mrs Evans has given up a paper for the house. We were at first told we might not touch the baby but Lady T [F?] says now any lady may nurse it. We have had it in once and a beautiful little thing it is. But Mary is not strong enough to nurse it much as it is so heavy and I am sorry to find nursing is not my talent. So whether it is want of practice or what else I do not know. But they never feel firm in my hands. I was made most happy with your letter. Everything from you would be acceptable to me but it did not require that to make your agreeable letter go down. I did not however, like the news you sent us. It would make me most uncomfortable if my Uncle’s scheme took place. But I hope it will not. My Aunt thinks it would be a very good plan for him and my Aunt to go to some seabathing place and she should be glad to go with them and take Mary at the of the races[?]. This I think would be a very good thing but my Aunts are bad people at seconding a scheme. Emma was right when she said we should not study [rip in page]. I have read half a page to day to say I have looked at it but that is all. One really ought to know people here for I think one can do nothing but go about and enjoy company. [Give?] [Papas, papers?] away most enerevantedely[?] and these plans make one very mundane into the bargain. I intend to take great does of [Priestley?] and good looks when I get home for my virtue will not stand by itself without good looks. When you mentioned what you had been reading at home I felt as if I had been wasting my time most exceedingly and I am sure to lose such a [frittling?] life as I have done lately is remarkably bad for the character and I find the effect very bad particularly on mine which has always a tendency to run after the vanities of this wicked world. Mary and I this day or two have botanised some plants. I am not particularly fond of this business but I may as well do it here as nothing. We went in the boat the other day but [fooling, following?] [silent, Lend?] a Thursday one of Mr Arkwrights days and such number of people were coming into Passover that it spoiled our row. One gentleman handing me into the boat managed to make me drop my bonnet into the water and it had a good ducking but however, it has lasted with the ducking and all through the stay without being turned. The music books are a great happiness to me as I sing away for I dare say an hour. Mary says she likes to hear me which gives me great pleasure if I could but believe it. Supper is come in and so good night, give best love to all from the three and accept that my dear [Aunt] of your very affectionate
C. Caldwell
I hope the name “Lucia” will never get out of fashion. I like it so much.
PB110123
Anne Caldwell (?0 to Mary Caldwell, August 1811
Miss M Caldwell
Linley Wood
Nr Lawton
England
Post Mark 31st August 1811
By a Peat fire at a Highland Inn on the banks of Loch Ness I begin my first letter to my dear English Mary half tired and half sleepy back with my poney still warm from the delightfull scene I have enjoyed. Today we parted with H.Holland who came with us to Callander and thence to Lock Katrine and now he is going back to [Eton?] and we are arrived here. Scotland is indeed a fine country such a glorious confusion of rock and wood and torrents swollen and running after the rains of yesterday as far exceeding expectation. Every scene may be called truly picturesque, though I hate the term. The cottages are wild, the dress of the peasantry and the air in general uniformly striking. I will not attempt, after Scot, to give you an idea of Lock Katrine, it is truly fine but we saw it in the most dreadful and unhospitable [umpitrable?] rain I ever was out in. To say the truth I was a little disappointed. I think it anything but what Scot has described it and the [Jcosacks?] of FitzJames’s journey do not in the least resemble these. There is not a place in the Lady of – [Lake?]but we have seen and we must not forget Sterling Castle. We came there late on Tuesday night but determined to run up and like a glove by moonlight it appeared the finest thing in the world. The forth lakes a thousand winchings in a highly cultivated valley which reaches to Dun Edin boarded by a fine outline of mountains and of a range of these I must just tell you that a gentleman about 40 years got Silver enough on his own estate for a Service of Plate (HH). You told me much of the charms of a mountainous country but it was nothing to reality. I know you hate descriptions but how can I help giving you what is constantly dwelling upon my mind. Monday, the day before we left Edinburgh you know we went to dine at Woodhouselee. The Tytlers may truly be called a charming family for there is a charm in every thing round them. In the grounds, the house filled with pictures, windows ornamented with flowers and looking upon delightful views, a most agreeable old man [Alexander Fraser Tytler, Lord Woodhouselee] at the head, an amiable woman for his wife and a family of the most artless affectionate Scotch things you ever saw in your life. We saw two daughters, a boy of about 16, most intelligent and agreeable (is not this wonderful) and a little cousin and a little [young?] who nobody make out. And in consequence of the extreme good nature and [bienveillance?] of their reception had a very pleasant day. I wish Papa knew Lord Woodhouselee. They would suit, I think, excellent. I heartily wish for an opportunity of returning the great kindness they have shewn us.
Monday [26th August 1811] morning we breakfasted at Mrs Fletchers and met Sir [Brooke] Boothby there. The Lady appears clever and has a good manner, rather than good manners. It is a misfortune to know that one is renowned for being agreeable, this gives a little the appearance of intention in what she says. As for Sir B, he is certainly very pleasant and had he not chosen to write himself down for an ass I declare I should never have suspected him of being one. He told us some good anecdotes of Madame de Stael and the German Literate with whom he seems reasonably well acquainted. Upon the whole I do not much enjoy the conversation of professed agreeables, just perhaps because I feel a little put out and second because it is not a give and take conversation but rather a stage upon which [town a town, turn a turn?] every one makes his speech, is applauded and retires to give place to another speaker, where all play the part of audience but the actor for the minute and therefore where all praise highly in the hopes of being praised in their turn[?]. Though [Jeffery, Jiffing, suffering?] is a [wit, bit, not?] professed [from,form?] this let me except him the little I saw and kind filled me – with delight he seemed to speak much; from the rapidity of his thoughts and feelings it was not cold exertions for the sake of conversation but warm ideas that would be expressed. His descriptions ever vivid and a [lively, bawdy?] his remarks very lively and every word conveyed some picture to one’s mind. Now do not laugh – and say I am [more, done?] away with. I partly own I am and the man who by the mere force of conversation in a quarter of an hour can make so strong and [partial?] an impression must have ‘le don de’l’eloquence’. Sir G Mackenzie [Travelled with Holland to Iceland 1811]is a good natured lively Geologist but these earthly philosophers are very flat I think upon all subjects but their own trade. They are always – looking downwards. Henry Holland took us on Monday to Ballantynes shop. I was much diverted with the celebrated Booksellers conversation. He gives a high character of the new [Edin arm?] Register but then he is the publisher. He talked very much in the style of the Booksellers in novels. The same peculiar and ready strain of wit and satire upon the unfortunate race of authors.
Sunday [25th August 1811] we went to Sir Harry Moncreiff’s Kirk. A Mr Dickson preached without any outward ceremonies to inspire devotion, without any assistance from music or architecture, without much elocution by the mere force of serious devotion and plain simple and undisemptive prayers which came from and spoke thoughts to the heart. He commanded my attention more than any preacher I ever heard and made inattention indeed almost impossible. The service consisted of prayers rather short. Psalms in which the congregation joined without any instruments. A sermon and a lecture upon the application of the sermon which as well as the prayers were extempore and pronounced with the utmost fluency in very excellent and simple language. – Mr Alison is reckoned a most admirable preacher when he take his text[?] the eyes of all the auditors are fixed upon his pulpit and every one appears moved and attentive. So much for a name. Had he not had the name I am grieved for the sake of my good taste to say I should never have remarked his discourse so much as to have asked who preached it. Mrs A is a daughter of Dr Gregory, the woman teacher and lived with Mrs Montague, the letter writer whom she offended by preferring Mr Alison to her nephew and after their marriage Mrs A wrote the book upon taste to justify her choice. In spite of Louisa’s showman I should be tempted to cry out Edinburgh is the finest place in all the world. The new Town struck me much more than London. It is laid out on a very [clear?] plan. The houses all of stone and perfectly uniform and in consequence of the descent of the ground at the ends of the streets you have delightful views of the Firth of Forth and the Fife shire hills. The streets are very wide and owing to the system of Flats you may see a cobblers board in a house finer than many in the best streets of London. The old town is dirty to a proverb with narrow streets and houses sky high. We went to one in Parliament Square so [contrived, constructed?] that on one side it was fourteen stories high though on the other only seven. Here we are in the Highlands with a pair of horses that are to carry us all our tour as there is no posting at these inns. The places themselves we find comfortable and the people are the unsinuating civil ever times. At Callander we were waited upon by two most kind hearted women but who were too economical to wear shoes and stockings. We had some cloathes washed and the women assured JSC that as soon as they were toasted she would surely buy[bring?] them. Great boys of 14 are to be seen in kilts or Feillabags. (I don’t know how the spell it) and they talk Gaelic here very commonly. At Callander who should we see but Mr S Smith who has been through Scotland with Mr A Hinchly. Well, my dearest dear is not this a letter for you and I have not said a word of my dear home and friends that all the wits and all the wilds of Scotland will not make me ever forget. Thank you for your kind letter and messages. We shall not alas hear again till we get to Inverary. Goodnight, keep well and continue to write. Best love to all from all and I am ever your affectionate AC.
[heavy black ink] I would give a good deal my dear Mary to know [when, where?] you are going next and it is a grievous thing that we cannot now till tomorrow week. I was [sorry] I forgot to write down the directions from my - - wrote I think you understood that the glass was to be - - of an inch all the new glass to be put as - - it will go in part and to unfinished in the same manner with it but put of the old to be – the old man at Mr Nathans?
File PB110127
Anne Caldwell to Mary Caldwell [pre 1813]
Miss M. Caldwell
Linley Wood
Lawton
Cheshire
Park Field, Sunday
My dear Mary,
I am absolutely astonished at the silence of all my good friends at Linley Wood. Two letters have I already written and neither note nor parcel nor sign of remembrance or life have I received. As I am of an un-apprehensive nature I conclude you have been only asleep ever since I left you and do not make myself unhappy on that account. And a good lady in the stable yard who employs her talents in benefaction has consoled me for the want of my cloathes, with the [‘assistance’ crossed out] help of my own ingenuity and industry for I have made myself a petticoat and two frills. Will you therefore tell Mama that I shall not want them now. And if she has received my letter about the guinea, I have settled the business. If she never had the satisfaction of reading the scrawl, I must add that the guinea was given here and that I have redeemed it with half a guinea which I am afraid she will think too much, but the job was disagreeable and I was taken by surprise. However, it is not a clear half guinea gone as I shall not [need, see?] to offer anything for trouble which otherwise I should have wished to do. I enjoy myself exceedingly here. S.W. [Sarah Wedgwood?] is in charming spirits and more agreeable than I ever knew her. I am quite at home and very happy. Our conversations are infinite and I find our sentiments agree in general and where they do not the advantage is all on her side or rather on mine for it is I shall reap the benefit. She has let me read many of her writings, which make me feel very small when I think of what I once thought clever of my own. Miss W[?] is very pleasant and indeed, as I said before, I am very happy. Yesterday I was driven by her to Newcastle where I met Mr Griffin. I delivered your billet [dous?] for which he was at a loss to express his gratitude. It was not so fair an inscription as when presented to me, having been carried [in half?] in my purse. The day before that I went with her to call at Meaford. I saw Mrs [Risets, Milets?] not quite so ugly as the malicious world says but full as dowdy and more odd, in my opinion, for I recollect you have seen her. I divide my time here, what time is left to me, between Sol.Fa[?], Leslys’ geometry – (keep this to yourself) and all the books in this nice library of which I read with great impartiality, dipping into all and reading none. Among others the ‘Life of Priestley’, written by himself, where I just opened at his account of Nantwich where he says the family most pleasant to him was one Mr James Caldwell, a Scotchman. Here he spent many pleasant evenings. I have not seen anybody here but by accident. I believe I shall go to Maer the latter end or middle of next week, and hope to hear of you here or there, to hear that my dearest Mary is well and better than her usual well. And a little news of Papa and any old news. If you cannot write I hope Mama or Eliza will remember poor me. You will not expect that what passes here was ever dull[?], it [takes?] will write well so if this letter is dull you must excuse it, besides there is a novel reading aloud all this time. But as I do this in love, you will excuse it in love and so good night my dear Girl. Pray give my kindest love to all at home and think of me ever as your very affectionate AC
File PB110131
Might be Eliza Caldwell, to her daughter Mary Caldwell – before 1813
Miss Mary Caldwell
Linley Wood
Lawton
Cheshire
Chorley Hall
Wednesday 5 [ado]
My dear Mary,
I find that I have only a few minutes to write: but I cannot bear to defer sending you one line by this post. You cannot think my dear girls how sensibly I have felt you and your dear fathers kindness upon this occasion, though I could not help being grieved to have prevented your taking the journey. We have met with some little [rubs?] and difficulties, all of which have been gratifying to me by lessening my regret at having taken your place, and saw in your eyes, and read in your heart the pleasure you received in giving up your own gratification for mine, and tell your dear father that I shall never forget his sweet kindness upon the occasion. Tell him with my dear dear love, that I hope he will excuse my writing to you instead of him, as I thought it possible he might be from home, and you were sure to be on the spot. When we reached Warrington we found South Port was 33 miles from thence, and there being no room we judged it better to sleep at Ormskirk, where we found it very difficult to get accommodation, and were obliged at last to have one bed on the floor. The breakfast the next morning at S.P., where we found a most beautiful open sea, charming air, and very tolerable sands, but these are all its charms, the country is dreary, and the people in a low state of civilization. I however, was much gratified by watching that fine object in nature, the coming in of the tide, in so fine an expanse. The roads are rugged, and shook us a good deal. This is no great objection to me. We reached Chorley Hall just before dinner, and I [have?] not, I think, say met with a most welcome reception. Though they sincerely regretted not seeing [himl?] and you. The place is wonderfully improved, and has a gentlemanly air as far as I can see of the grounds, which is but little at present. I forgot to get the windows to be cleaned, be so good to tell Betty to do them on Saturday and let one of the girls make you a little [calfs foot?] jelly or flummery which you like best. Something cold must be ready for Tuesday dining [evening?]. I shall endeavour to see again my happy home and its [belace or?] inhabitants on Saturday. Dear love from the [line?] to all, I can no more but to assure my dearest Mary that I am ever her fondly affectionate [sister? Mother? AC.?]
Betty must wash the grey room but by all events on Friday or Saturday.
File PB110135
Anne Caldwell to Mary Caldwell 1811
Miss M. Caldwell
Linley Wood
Lawton
Cheshire
England
7th September 1811
Inverary, Friday Evening.
It did indeed make us very happy, my dearest Mary, to receive such an agreeable account of your health on our arrival here. I hope, my sweet girl will continue to improve and be happy herself in the happiness she bestows and the affection she excites in all who know her. In spite of all the beauties and pleasures of this town my thoughts will wander home and picture that dear parlour and those dear friends that sit round you and every fine sunshine and sun set reminds me of the days I sat with my dear Mary there. It is a great pleasure to me to consider that we are having a most agreeable [day, way?] for you in this country and that we have laid the foundations of a most agreeable acquaintance at [Eden, John?] which I think when you come as my Aunt will probably stay longer you may improve and enjoy. Stamford wrote you from Tyndom[?] where we were in the heart of moors and mountains and with a way before us that made me tremble for the 3 [fairys?] stick in my throat and an unknown coach in a wild country with a driver who know not a step of the way seemed a little frightful. You will find the way we went in the map. Loch Leven to which place our course was bent lies between Inverness and Argyleshire. The Ballachulish is the point where Lock Leven joins Lock Linne [Linnhe]. The road lies through Glencoe. It is a terrible and awful to the highest degree, a deep Glen between enormous crags into which you plunge by a steep winding descent, worn and torn by the violence of the torrents which pour on all sides from the mountains. The eagles scream which is particularly wild was the only sound we heard. This was very fine, it was what we came for and I expected nothing further as we heard no good report of the beauty of the rest of the ride, but the saltwater lakes of Leven and Linne exceed everything by far that I have seen in Scotland. Imagine mountain behind mountain of every form and shape blending with the finest sky on the most beautiful morning and at their feet lakes so wide that the opposite banks are in the distance with fine rocks broken in every direction and sloops and vessels sailing across them. The sea with all the variety of inland views, though I know you hate descriptions I cannot help describing for I have without affectation seen quite enchanted. The hills of Morvern were opposite to us where Ossians Malvina lived. They are very fine. We passed all round that part of Argyle Shire that lies between Lock Linne and Loch Etive and crossed a Ferry a mile broad which was more necessary than agreeable. Here we met with a very agreeable boy waiting to be ferried over. Some great man’s son who lives near Fort William. The country Inns and people in Perthshire are not in any degree so much removed from Polish as the people in this corner. At the inn at Kings House they [shewed, handed?] us [wax seal in way] – a bed room to take breakfast at Connel[?] Ferry they had no bread and at [Ivynchon, Tynchon?] we slept in cupboards in the dining room. At [Zeem?] near Lock Tay, a most amicable little man in a kilt waited upon us at one of the Ferrys. We were rowed by two men who knew nothing “I know nothing” is I don’t speak English. The chambermaid &c find about often without shoes and never with stockings. It was to be sure a most lucky thing that Stamford came with us. Without him we should never have ventured upon this Highland expedition. I should say ‘Glencoe [Glenive?] Expedition’. He is very kind and very useful. As for Eliza, I really owe to her almost half the pleasure and all the comfort of my journey. She has been so good natured, good humoured and good tempered. This tour will certainly cure me of my general antipathy to journeys. Inverary looks charming this morning and invites us into the D-‘s grounds so for fear of want of time I will put in the business part of my letter. First. My Aunt thinks that Mrs Bridget had better set out next Friday and proceed to Halifax according to the directions she gave her. She must there get directions about [gt?] coaches and proceed to Gisborough as well as she can. And the best conveyance to Bed can perhaps a reserve chaise. If the King dies she must bring my Aunts mourning and ours. If you please if he live would you tell M.Reece to send me my plain muslin frock and my japan gown and two bathing gowns. I am much amused with the idea of MEC setting off solo for Betley. This is being very sister like. I scrawled away the greater part of this last night and am shocked to think what a puzzle you will have to read it. Now I must go to breakfast. Tell Emma the 9th of August was spent at Lock Earn head, the wildest place in the world with nothing but bare footed Scotch girls worn brown and withered by hard work to be seen. Mr McDougal gave us an introduction to Dr Stewart at Lass. He is a great botanist and though we must be [friendly?] indeed I think we have quite taken the botanical character and like cats tumble upon our feet wherever we fall. I observe a great change in the dress and appearance of the people on the western coast. Very inferior to the natives of the eastern. Near Connel ferry we saw the ruins of Beregonium which are stupendous. Mountains that appear formed by the labour of hands and remains of forts. It is situated on the delightful bay and is, I believe, so ancient that no record remains of those who built it. It was the ancient residence of the Scottish and pictish Kings and whatever may be seen of this rude immensity of the remains they sufficiently prove that it was no wandering tribe of savages that constructed them. There are the remains of a street as regularly paved as any in London. The tradition is that it was destroyed by fire from heaven. And the remains of what are called the [petrified?] forts are masses that appear fused by heat. There are many druidical remains all over the country and to an antiquarian it must afford ceaseless amusement. What a change there is in it since Ossians heroes lived here. Now is all solitary and deserted miles without the hail of human footsteps and the largest habitations made heaps of stones joined without mortar and thatched or covered with clods. I must now, my beloved girl, give over for we are going to walk. Pray tell Emma and Louis[?] that [I] ought to have written to them but I do so like writing to you that I could not resist the temptation. I am sure they will excuse the preference. The next letters may be directed to Newcastle. Farewell again my dearest girl. You cannot give too much love for us to the dear Linley Wood [resides?] never absent from our thoughts and think of me as your most truly and warmly attentive [friend?] and sister. AC.
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Heath-Caldwell All rights reserved.
Michael Heath-Caldwell M.Arch
Brisbane, Queensland
ph: 0412-78-70-74
alt: m_heath_caldwell@hotmail.com