Michael D.Heath-Caldwell M.Arch.

1840

Elizabeth Caldwell (Bessy) of Nantwich -  73/74  

Hannah Eliza Roscoe - age 54/55   daughter of James and Elizabeth C.             

James Stamford Caldwell - age - 53/54  son of James and Elizabeth C.          

Arthur Cuthbert Marsh - age 53/54

Anne Marsh-Caldwell – age 48/49     

Eliza Louisa Marsh-Caldwell – known as Louisa –  age 21/22  

Frances Mary Marsh (later Crofton) - age 20/21    

Georgina Amelia Marsh-Caldwell – Gies – age 19/20 

Rosamond Marsh-Caldwell – Posy - age 16/17  

Martin William James Marsh - age 14/15    

Mary Emma Marsh (Lady Mary  E. Heath) – age 13/14 

Hannah Adelaide Marsh (later Loring) - age 11/12

---

The Athenaeum

12 Jan 1840[?]

The Wilmingtons. A Novel. By the Author of ‘Two Old Men’s Tales.’ 3 vols. Colburn

Though this tale is more tedious in its preamble – more precipitous in its conclusion than can be accredited – though it my be divined that more than one character elaborately introduced was originally destined to play a part subsequently altered or retrenched, - ‘The Wilmingtons’ contains scenes which no living author save the lady who personates the ‘Two Old Men’ could have written so well. Few will be able to escape from her new story when they have once entered on it: few will question the vitality of some of its characters, and the force of some of its situations.

The head of the Wilmington family – a showy, vain, unscrupulous man, who, though a coward and feeble, finds it more easy to brave the commission of a forgery than to submit to retrenchment, - is a daw in peacock’s feathers, - the like of which is encountered in every world of action or enjoyment – and so far the portrait may be warranted as true to universal human folly.

In the scene which we are about to extract, the miserable nature of the pretender is shown in all its misery. A few preliminary lines will explain it. In a crisis of the most perilous nature Mr. Wilmington had been supported by the money of Mr. Craiglethorpe, an old bosom friend of his, a rich merchant in India. This money had been gambled away in ruinous speculation: and on Mr. Craiglethorpe’s return to England being announced, it became necessary to take measures for replacing it. But the ship in which the Indian merchant embarked was lost: it was believed that he had perished.

On receiving this news, Mr. Wilmington availed himself of a moment’s chance to commit a forgery, whereby he became possessed of an enormous property which would otherwise have belonged to  Mr. Craiglethorpe. The shipwrecked man, in whose loss no reader believed, did get home at last; and, in a fit of desperate audacity, Mr. Wilmington and his wife agreed to dispute his identity. The wanderer (beggared, let us add, by his shipwreck) made his way to their sumptuous villa at Wimbledon: the following being his second attempt to extort recognition.-

“The old man re-entered the front hall; looking round in a sort of imploring, piteous manner. You must pity the man. Remember, he had never been taught better things. One generous, disinterested tender affection he had cherished in his bosom – it was being cruelly crushed. You must pity his pangs.

Then he went to the window and looked out. How the trees were grown and changed – they were now, from small shrubs become large plantation trees; but he could not look at them, changed as they were, without a rush of memories of what he had been in that house in times gone by.

The footman was long in returning; at last he came, and brought the scrap of paper in his hand. “Master knows nothing about you. – Doesn’t know what you mean by the things here on the paper – Sorry he can’t see any one – positively is busy – is going out.’ But this time Mr. Craiglethorpe was too quick for the servant; he did not wait to hear the sentence finished, but passing him, hastily mounted the stairs with hurried steps laid his hand on the well-known dressing-room door, opened it, and entered.

The valet had left the room but in his place Mrs. Wilmington was standing talking earnestly to her husband. The door opened; they both turned round: she gave a faint shriek; he turned deathly pale, but stood still.

‘Wilmington! Is it you who refuse me an entrance into your house?’ Craiglethorpe began, with an accent of melancholy rather than angry reproach – ‘You, Wilmington!’ – ‘Who are you, sir?’ cried Lizzy, placing herself between him and her husband, casting a glance, as she did so, at the latter, which said – ‘Now be firm, or you are lost for ever.’ – ‘Woman! Stand by,’ said Craiglethorpe, advancing; ‘how dare you put yourself between him and his old friend? Why, Wilmington,’ holding out his hand, ‘you have not surely forgotten me.’ – But Wilmington was silent. He looked nervous, hurried, confused, uncertain; but he made not a movement to accept and clasp the hand thus offered. – ‘Wilmington!; and he went close up to him – ‘old friend!’ and he laid his hand upon his shoulder – ‘Nay, lad, what’s the matter; for, sure I am, you know me?’- ‘He does not, sir,’ interrupted Lizzy; ‘he’s petrified at your audacity.

To be sure loving Mr.Craiglethorpe as he did, it can’t but be very painful to have an imposter. – ‘Imposter!’ D-n you woman! you know me as well as I do  myself.’ – Passion was awakened at last. He shook the shoulder he held, and cried, - ‘Come to your senses – speak out. Let us have done at once. If – May heaven forgive me, if I am unjust! – If – Good God! – what am I saying? – if – Wilmington! Wilmington! . . . If – if – speak, only speak; say you won’t – say you daren’t. What! After all – all  -‘Can’t you speak – won’t you speak, Mr. Wilmington?, cried Lizzy angrily. ‘What do you stand there for as if you were turned to stone? Speak, tell this old man…’ – He could not speak; he could only turn away to release his shoulder from the grasp of his friend, and cover his face with his hands. His wife followed him, whispering her remonstrances in his ear, urging every suggestion she could think of to confirm him in her purpose. There was a door which opened to her bed-room.

She took hold of his arm, and led, or rather pushed him through it. He suffered her to do as she would; and she closed the door after him. – ‘There,’ she said, returning with something very like triumph in her face, ‘there – I hope this scene is ended; and now, sir, that you see how excessively painful this farce, which you are pleased to play, proves to my husband’s feelings, perhaps you will be good enough to put an end to it.’ – He was a stout-hearted, hard nerved man. He had never in his life, perhaps known what it was not to be perfectly master of himself under the most trying circumstances; but he stood there now perfectly bewildered – amazed – confounded – his ears tingling, and his spirit faltering – something rose to his eye – the unwonted visitor – he dashed it away with the back of hi hand. Then he glared, rather than looked, upon that hard-hearted, beautiful, bad creature – then he stopped to listen. He thought to have heard his friend’s returning steps  - there was only that little door between them – but they were severed, oh! Far more widely than if it had been a hemisphere – will he relent and come back? – can he have the heart to stay away?

He resisted the urgency with which she kept pressing commanding, insisting upon his going. He kept pushing her aside impatiently with his elbow which said, as plain as elbow could, ‘Be quiet, hold your noise,’ – then he stood stock-still and listened again. The expression of his face was strangely touching. At last he approached the door. She would have prevented him; but he shook her off. ‘Wilmington,’ he said, and laid his hand upon the lock. The key turned within. ‘Wilmington, - you are there. Speak.’ Silence. ‘Wilmington, speak. It is  the third and last time. Speak now, - or I swear this is that last time I will ever speak to you more, till we meet together at the day of judgment.’

Silence. He still stood and listened; but he had sworn, and would not speak again. He seemed unwilling to take his hand from the lock; unwilling to sever this tie – so close – so strong. His face worked strangley – his colour changed; now a dark lurid red – now deadly pale. He hesitated – he shook the lock.  At last he knelt down and looked through the key-hole. The key was in it. He would not be satisfied. It seemed as if he could not bear to believe that Wilmington was still in the room; that he could have heard him – that he had not escaped by some other door. But she set him right as to that – ‘You need not  make any doubt about that,’ said she, seeming to understand him, ‘for he is there. The other door is fastened. And I think the best thing you can do is to take yourself away.’ Again he shook the lock with violence. Again he listened, - but he would not speak. Then he looked round the room, as if taking leave of everything there. Upon the dressing-table stood a very rare piece of Japan china, a present in former days from himself. This was the only article connected with the memory of former days that was still in the room. He took it up, and, before she could interfere, threw it out of the window, and then, without turning his head again, went out of the room and down stairs, crossed the two halls, and so out of the house. He was seen to look up at the house again as he walked slowly down the gravel-road. And I have been told his eye lowered, as if a blast came from it. I fear that in the bitterness of his spirit, he cursed it and its inmates, - and them and theirs, wheresoever they might be.

Of course, after a time, the forgery which led Mr. Wilmington to so desperate an exhibition of ingratitude is detected; but suspicion in place of falling on himself lights on his son. Throughout the tale we have been invited to study Henry Wilmington as a noble and worthy contrast to his father: - a reserved ungraceful man, but with a mind of the highest tone and affections of the most generous warmth. These are centred on one of those exquisite and devoted women, whom no one imagines more delicately or paints better than the ‘Two Old Men.’ Having become painfully alive to his father’s hollowness and want of principle, Henry had withdrawn with his wife to a remote corner of England. Accused of the forgery, it at once flashes across his mind who the real culprit must have been: and in naming this culprit lies his solitary chance of acquittal from the punishment of death, and of restoration of his admirable Flavia, - the wife who had displeased her proud and worldly family by insisting on marrying him! – All such considerations, however, and, still more, that sense of truth and falsehood which makes it a sin to connive at a false accusation by omission or commission, are forgotten by this virtuous son of a vicious father, in the enthusiasm of what is called “filial duty.” Henry Wilmington refuses to clear himself, is found guilty, and sentenced to be executed.

On the false morality and false feeling of the above course of action, which, without being exhorted to imitate it, we are certainly invited to admire, we will not trust ourselves to lecture. The workings of the heart are strongly, passionately portrayed by our author, - up to the point when, as has been told, the catastrophe is suddenly huddled together with more than her usual recklessness, and with more than her usual defiance of the reader’s interest to excite which such strength has been set in motion – Be her faults what they may, however, the author will become weary of writing novels, we suspect, ere we shall become indisposed to read them.

Diary of Anne Marsh-Caldwell

1840 Boulogne

10^th February 1840, Monday

With Fanny and Georgey to a ball at the Corsals. Introduced to Sir James and Lady Lyon. Sir James Lyon an old officer of the Spanish war. The feeling manner in which he spoke of the Admiral’s Daughter, what an exquisite sense of its beauty that this old soldier seem to have. No one that ever spoke of it gratified me as much. He really had felt it. Baby had a severe blow on the head to day by the (sewerfalls?).

C70

Letter from Charles Curry to Martin Marsh

Post mark 13 Ju 1830 [?]

[Feb 11 1840 at bottom of page]

Mr. Marsh

At Mrs Horsfords

Eton College

Bucks. 

My dear Marsh,

I suppose you little expected to hear from me before we reached Bombay but, as now there is a chance of sending home letters by homeward bound vessels I take the opportunity of letting you know our situation and how I am getting on.

I joined the ship at Gravesend on Sunday Dec 22 1839 and half an hour after I came on board we got under weigh being towed by two steam tugs which left us at Ramsgate, we had a wretched passage down Channel, heavy gales of wind, and squalls from S.W. occasionally sending us back in one hour, all the distance we had made in 12; however at last we got to the chops of Channel and it set in a furious gale which carried us into the Bay of Biscay where we were knocking about for 36 hours, several parts of the rigging were damaged, and 33 Butts of water fetched way and were stove to pieces in the hold; under these circumstances the Captain thought proper to put back to Falmouth, where one of the 6 officers left us, and a midshipman ran away, after remaining there a week we set sail, and for on pretty well until Sunday last when we had a tremendous squall and about an hour afterwards got into the N.E. trade winds, which takes along in fine style, what do you think of making 500 miles in 46 hours?

We never saw that alone at Gaffers. The weather here is extremely hot and I wear nothing but duck trousers and a silk jacket. I suppose the gentlemen of the B.N.P.S. are about to return to that Paradise of a school.

The life I lead is an active one certainly, and at present a very pleasant one, but I look forward to coming home, and going to Blackheath with pleasure, I often think of her in the long night watches, and wish I was at Gaffers sometimes that I might have the pleasure of seeing her trotting down the Lee road; we had an officer, who left at Falmouth who knew the old man but he was very particular and (charge?) after them.

I have just come form the Royal Masthead where I have spent four hours looking out for land, the island of St.Antonio, one of the Cape de Verde, is the object of our search at present, we are going along with a fine breeze 10 knots, it is a beautiful position aloft to see the ships go bounding over the waves which dash over the bows and go foaming astern; above everything, beholding hundreds of flying fish, several large green dolphins tossing about in the suns rays, and the dark brown sharks following in the ships wake, it is a beautiful sight certainly, and there is nobody up there to disturb you, only every half hour you are hailed from deck to keep a sharp look out; this is the time which makes one think of home, and Rosa, but I always comfort myself by supposing I shall soon be home again when I shall see her, you may be sure before I have been at home many days.

Let me hear from you at Bombay, direct the letter to the Inglis and write the third week in March.

There are on board 180 soldiers, 32 passengers, 94 sailors and 14 officers so you may suppose it is not very dull below. We have dancing on the quarter deck every evening and a very good band of eight men. We have on board scarlet fever, smallpox, and a few other beautiful diseases, but only one man, a soldier, has died and that of consumption.

Feb 11. We are now in Lat 6N and the weather extremely hot, last night one of the soldiers went raving mad, and nearly killed one of his comrades, his madness was occasioned by the heat of the sun which affected his brain, and it is feared several others will share his fate, but never the less we have to walk the deck four hours under a burning sun; we are now becalming having lost the N.E. trades and may remain so for time.

I do not know if this will ever find you as by the time it reaches England you may be gone to Eton, but I shall direct it to be left at home until they hear some thing of you. Let me know all the Blackheath news in the long letter I expect to receive at Bombay.

We shall no doubt go from Bombay to China if the trade is open. It is now nearly noon and I have first to walk the sun, and when it will be my watch until four. And now after all this, will you not come to sea, it really is a very pleasant life and if you come out next voyage you will no doubt like it very much.

I keep two servants, a soldier and a sailor, you can not do on board a ship without one. You must excuse this horrid scrawl as it is written in a Midshipman’s berth which is a perfect paradise I can assure you.

We have some excellent fun on board, last night all the midshipmen but myself with three officers were asleep under the spanker when the Captain came on deck and I immediately kicked the nearest one and told him of it, up he jumped and in endeavouring to wake the others so entangled himself and the others in all the sail which was lying on the Poop, that no one could get out, the Captain at last got them all out and sent them to the Mast head for 4 hours.

I must now conclude my letter as it is nearly 12 o’clock. Hoping you are well and enjoying yourself.
I remain your very affectionate friend,

Charles Currey.

Ship “Inglis” February 11^th 1840

---

11^th February 1840, Tuesday

Calling in the town the Consals. Mrs Burne, LadyTemple-  ill  with a spasm in the morning.

12^th February 1840

With Mr and Mrs Corbet, Sir Henry Manning(?),  Mrs Burne, Colonel Gabriel,  Lady Temple to see an exhibition of  Animal  Magnetism, in the Concert room, the orchestra turned into a stage, carpet on it a sofa with cushions, two room chairs all covered with crimson Utrecht velvet, various stools and chairs for the f- abundance of light, all the medical men of Boulogne almost were on the stage, chairs and desks on and under(?).

The Adopt was a very big burly coarse looking man, he was pale and not real. The somnambule rather pretty but with somewhat coarse features, small and delicate figure cloathed in white embroie muslin, white silk shoes, gown to throat and – gold braid and white  silk sartons, long hair done up in a knot behind as they wear it here. She looked scared rather than shy, suffering rather than anxious(?).

She sat down upon the sofa facing the audience, the Maj stood at some distance and began his operations, first however, making various passes with his hands in front of the stage pour faise, as he informed us un rideau to prevent any of the magnetic influences reaching us. He then standing at some distance  from the girl stood with arm extended pointing his three fingers at her and gazing at her intently, from time to time he changed the position of his fingers a little.

She began to look drowsy, her head fell from side to side at (this?) she fell down upon her face, among the cushions apparently fast asleep. He then came forward, lifted up her feet upon the sofa and raised(?) and settled her leaning upon her back against the cushions, in a position as if one site on a sofa with ones feet up.

I confess my impression doing this first act was that she only pretended to go to sleep. I thought I saw something like acting in her mode of going to sleep, and I thought I saw her move her shoulder and settle herself as he placed her against the cushions.

The Dr Campbell and Allen were sitting close behind the sofa during this regarding everything with great attention, a  pin was then given to Dr Campbell, which after a little evident hesitation he thrust into her hand, there was not the slightest shrinking or appearance of feeling.

The Adept assured us that not only no pain was felt but barely any blood flowed and the wound would close and heal immediately. The medical men had before this examined her eyes by opening her eyelids, which remained closed the whole evening. Two pistols were then fired close to her ears, even this did not, to my mind, carry the persuasion that she really was asleep –further on.

12 February 1840 continued.

There was such an appearance of Charlatanism  and jiggery about the man, the next thing I remember is his rousing her and asking her si elle voulant travailler. I did not understand this at the time, but at last I comprehended that there was a state of deep sleep with which he (theirn?) here when he pleased and which appeared to rest her. Did another of more exertion(?) in which she spoke and moved, one he called dormier the other travailler. The last state seemed to be one of very painful exertion.

The very great distaste I had for the whole proceedings made me really regard all these maneuvers with so much contempt that I did not attend so (privately?) as I ought to have done but the more I had an opportunity of observing him the longer I reflect upon what I did observe the more I feel persuaded that there is something which is a subject for tutorial speculation and (sacrifice, subterfuge?) enquiring at the bottom of much pretence and absurdity.

I think the first way he showed his power or recollection was by standing at a distance and taking the attitude of one pulling strings which extended from him to her and (time?) as the needle to the pole  it is certain the body rose and fell, moved this way and that exactly as a needle would do under the influence of the (woodstore?). He then asked her to take a walk in the (caroline, linoline?) with him. She rose up leaning on his arm, but tottering and swaying from side to side as a statue would if one tried to set it upon its feet.

After this exhibition she was lowered down to sleep, he passing his hands about a foot above her body from head to foot which appeared to compose her very much. He then roused her and asked her to sing, it was a very different matter to make her do it he kept making passes. Not in pointing his hands outstretched fingers to her side and stomach. She seemed to soften, shaking her forehead and stomach and rolling her head from side to side, her neck appearing as flaccid as that of one recently dead. Je vais que vous (french sentence) Great emphasis on the vens. (Ought?) loud voice at last, she began to sing very sweetly, the moment he standing before her made certain majestic gestures.

She stopped like a clock, then went on again, even though however appeared to (asab?) as if done by collusion. I felt indeed sore of it at the time, on reflection I doubt it. That is odd I think. He then told her to do up her hair which had fallen about her shoulders, looking very (threatened, fashionable?) indeed, he said  he would give her a glass so a gentleman has (slightly?) may (realized, returned?) and put on a stool opposite to the chair on which she sat.

She seemed to look with her shut eyes if one may say so, at him as if he were a glass and very longingly to drop her hair, then she was put in communication with another gentleman which was done in this way, the adept, the gentleman being seated beside her on the sofa took hold of each hand with each of his hands then the gentleman held her hand, and she answered his questions, several gentlemen were put through this.

Their names were always mentioned to her as they were put into communication with them, the different things she was asked to do each several things with a separate gentlemen were What (belong?) by the right, she told, what hour by a gentleman’s watch, which he had altered from the true hour “Eh bien – hors l’heaure qu’il est par le montre de le Monsieur obscure – ce n’est pas l’heur de la nuit, mois l’heur que Monsieur le manqué sur sa montre, la montre est dans la poche devoite de son gilet. – voyez bien” says the adept, the somnambule places her hands on the Gentleman’s sleeve on his breast, strokes him down, hesitates, looks as if she were straining to see through his coat and waistcoat, and with much hesitation in a tone inaudible where I sat, answer and gives the precise hour.

This was done with another gentleman and another watch, answer was wrong, the adept said Oh, the figures on the watch were in roman characters and she could only read Arabic.

Another gentleman was greivement blesse, -- she say, an bovs, which arm she says bras gauche. Non, tu du un adept, d’on at il – obscuring at bien at on il tombe. Answer at but de son cheval. What was the case.

It was while she was sleeping after these trials that Colonel Gabriel took me on stage to see her. I put my hand on the forehead, it was warm, soft and dry. I put my hand in hers which lay placid by her side, the finders clung softly to mine. I was touched by this and gently pressed her hand, the movement was not repeated, the pulse was low, soft and weak, breathing scarcely persceptible.

So impressed was I with the idea of her insensibility that I pinched the skin of her hand, it yielded like a it of muslin and evidently felt no more.

I returned convinced that she really was asleep.

The Adept then asked everybody to wrap an object in a pocket handkerchief, put it into a gentleman’s pocket. The gentleman was put in communication – what has he in his pocket – “Une pellaine.” That, says the Adept is because the handkerchief is embroidered, “what is in it” much hesitation and difficulty, at last “Une bourse” it was a ring. The Adept points to her gold broach and says “Oh the 60 metals disturbed her by their attraction or some such story.

All this time when (event?) her head kept tumbling about, like one asleep or dead. We left her dormant in the sofa and they giving her electric shocks which did not wake her although they made her move. Mrs O’Sullivan saw her waken and saw she looked (several?) nervous exhausted and as if she wished to cry.

That there  was real sleep seems unquestionable, then how would there be collusion, if not collusion what a strange power was exercised.

The attatinees(?) and the answering all right the man knew and wrong what he did not proves collusion, yet how collusion with one asleep.

Mr Maeyon knew a young gentleman subject to natural somnambulation, he would fall into this state of an evening after dinner, his mother and sisters could always communicate with him by whispering in his ear. When in this state there was no secret that he would not tell.

My present belief is that there is a certain power of animal magnetism by which the state called somnambulation my be produce, that persons in that state are not entirely – of their faculties but may be communicated with from without, and can be turned to speech and motion which is however very painful, and that upon the possession of these two secrets a sapers fortune of deceit and charlatanism has been (raised?) by designing men.

Mrs Burne tells me the weights she has seen the somnambulist raise are superhuman, but as we know particular states of the brain as insanity in more of it forms produce superhuman strength, this phenomenon may be resolved into a case of that form.

Memoirs of Anne Marsh-Caldwell

1797 (written February 1840)

I have made a long pause in my writing and the thread of my ideas seems a good deal broken. I find, too, that my memory – it is now the year 1840 and I am 49 – seems lately to have lost a good deal of its lively power. Chills of age and fading of the spirits and faculties creeps apparently upon me – it may be that this is only a langour such as at many periods of my life has visited me – it may be that it is a sign of that decline from which there is no recovery… I find it difficult to assign any precise events to this date (1797).

The only events I distinctly recollect and which I can refer to this year is that of Sir John Jervis’ and Lord St.Vincent’s victory. We were drinking tea at little Mr Sheret’s, the apothecary at Newcastle in his little upstairs parlour – and I remember the noise of crackers and squibs and the hollaing of the boys in the streets – and the coming out into the pitch-dark street, not a lamp or light of any kind, and getting into the chaise to come home. Soon after that we had an immensely tall man, Archer by name, to be a man-servant. I remember sitting upon his knee with Emma in the heather and his telling us riddles.

He had been a servant of Sir John Jervis’s. Stamford once began in my hearing to tell a story that Archer told him about Sir John Jervis. I was sent away just as it began and to this day want to hear it ended.

Diary of Anne Marsh-Caldwell

22^nd March 1840, Sunday

Arthur returned fromEnglandbringing Louisa and Mary. Called on Corbets and Mrs Burne, to Church morning. Mrs and Miss Garrett called.

23^rd March 1840, Monday

To Mrs Weenchs(?) ball. William Atkinson called. Arthur went. Mr Eyrs called. Wrote to Fanny and Martin.

24^th March 1840, Tuesday

Girls to dancing. Mary for the first time.

26^th March, 1840, Thursday

Mr Burrne called.

Letter from Arthur Marsh to his son Martin Marsh.  It consists of two pieces of paper one of which is the outer envelope.  The post mark is dated 1 April 1840.  It is addressed as follows:

Mr M Marsh

Mr Horsford’s

Eton College

Bucks

The letter reads as follows:

Wednesday 1 April

My dear Martin

Your mother writes me that she desires you to send me “a general account of how your pocket money goes”.  You have mainly sent me that of the disposal of the ioyou borrowed from your Aunt.  Now you have been at Eton 2 months, during which time you have had for Pocket money as follows:

You took with you                              £2.0.0

I gave you when I visited you            £1.0.0

Aunt G and Grandpapa                      £1.0.0

Allowance at 1 shilling a week           £   8.0

                                                            £4.8.0

Being at the rate of £26.8 a year.

This in addition to the other large and necessary expenses for you board, Clothing and Education, is more than you and I can afford.  I beg that you will send me, the copy of the account you have by you, of the disposal of this money. 

I shall then be able to judge, how you ought to apportion and allot the same I may be able to allow you under the head of Pocket money.  We will arrange it together in the course of the holidays and I have that confidence in your discretion and good sense, that I am sure when we have fixed the extent to which you can go, that you will not exceed it, but pray write out the account I ask for plainly and legibly; for there are many words in your letter now before me, that for my life I cannot decipher. 

What is that library to which you have paid 5 shillings? and what books do you get from it?  Is it connected with and under the control of the College, or is it a Commerce Circulating Library?  A purpose, do not omit to bring up with you when you come, all … Books that you have. 

I send you enclosed a sovereign, out of which you will pay your Aunt Georgy.  The 10 shillings from Grandpapa was I suppose a tip. 

Do you owe any money to anyone else?  If you do, pray give me a full and faithful account of such debts. 

And now my dear Boy, don’t suppose from the remarks I have made that I am vexed or displeased; I regard myself (and I wish you to regard me) as your Councillor and friend and when it seems to me that from inexperience you want a little guidance, I shall on my side, always give you my advise and I trust that on your side, whenever you find yourself in any difficulties or doubt you will have recourse to me, for such assistance and such counsel as I may be able to give. 

Write immediately with answers to all my questions and let me know that you have received the sovereign.

Ever most affectionately yours

ACM (Arthur Cuthbert Marsh)

Martin Marsh’s grandpapa would have been William Marsh (1756-1846).\

C017

Letter to Martin Marsh aged 15

from his grandfather William Marsh - aged 85

Mr Martin Marsh

Mrs Horsford’s

EtonCollege,

Bucks.

(doodle of a face on it)

BlackheathPark

Saturday 23^rd May 1840

My dear Martin!

You no doubt know all abut your dear Father’s trip, or rather, sail, or in truth both, with his old friend Sir Hyde Parker, but he may not have had time to write you from Harwich and therefore (at the same moment I say, that if during his absence, anything should occur that you wish to communicate, write to me or your Aunt Georgina promptly.

I say this, because I am sometimes gone to Town before our General Post comes in and do not return ‘till too late for our last Post out.) Along winded Parenthesis, but your dear Aunt and Mrs Telford are talking to me, and so I shall leave you to make it out! In one word I will send you a copy of his letter to me from the above place and then you will know as much as I do!

Harwich, Wednesday 25^th May 1840

I arrived here yesterday by the Orwell Steamers at ½ past 3, having left London Bridge at eight, which as the distance is 92 miles, speaks well for the Orwell’s speed! I went on board this yatch immediately and Sir Hyde joined us from Melford in the course of the afternoon so we are all now assembled. Mr Mills, one of the Party came down with me in the Orwell. The other is Mr Granville, a relative of Parker’s.

I think we shall sail today though at this moment ½ past 7, there is little or no wind, and what there is comes from the wrong quarter, North. However, we shall I dare say go to sea and look for a wind. Our first destination is I believe the Mandall River situated in the Southern part of Norway somewhat to the West of Christiansand (?) but where after that I know not.

The object of the Party being Salmon fishing, I conclude that we shall be directed by the movement of the fish. If you write to me however, I think that the best point of direction would be Gottenburgh, or Copenhagen, but then if we go North from the Manhall, I shall not receive letters so directed until our return. Our little vessel is I think as comfortable as a floating Residence can possibly be made, and she is the admiration of all who see here for her qualities and beauty. “

My love to Georgey, &c”

And now, whilst I am writing I have another letter which I will also copy.

Harwich,

Friday 22^nd May 1840.

I write to say we are still lying very snugly here for I fear that the late gale, indeed I may say the still continuing gale, will make you a little anxious about me. At present there is no appearance of a change and we should run back again to the Thames, if there was not so terrible a sea running outside, and if we did not think that as the wind is (nee?) should be stopped at the Nose. Here we lie very quietly. I will write you again my dear father(?) from the first place we touch at from whence it may be possible to dispatch a letter”

But as this morning the wind has happily changed to SW and quite warm and delightful company so yesterday I do not doubt they will have sailed, and I hope they (and we) may have a long continuance of fine warm weather! We are in expectation of hearing any day from Chanceaux and Boulogne, as I think your Aunt ME! Will be at the latter place by this time!

We have rather an unpleasant occurrence here just now. You may remember a worthy blind old woman of the name of Gray, formerly, a faithful and attached servant of my late dear Mrs Marsh’s, and who always came down in the summer for a month or six weeks. Being so completely blind a young woman who has now been with her since she was 10 years old, and had truly become her “right hand,” had got out Health with some internal complaint and was an Out-Patient at St. George’s Hospital, but as she did not get better they said she must become an In-Patient, and I sent her a letter accordingly and at the same time wrote poor Gray she had better come and pass her holidays here whilst the poor girl was in the Hospital.

This was last Wednesday fortnight, when our friend Miss Bennett kindly brought her down here. But the worry and anxiety the event had given her (as she is much attached and with reason to the poor girl) brought on a fever and when she arrived I really thought she would not have lived 24 hours, and it took twoor three persons to get her out of the carriage and up stair to bed, and where poor soul she still is.

However, the fever is subdued and she is much better but miserably weak and indeed has for the last year been visibly declining, and the age of 71 under these circumstances I think there is great doubt whether she will ever again quit this house alive! But all that Human means can do, we shall do for her!

Your Aunt Georgy is gone with Mrs Telford to Woolwich! I have just recollected that I do not know your address correctly, and if I cannot find it on her writing table, I must either lose this Post and of course you from hearing from me, until Tuesday. But I will make a guess, and as you must have had many letters since you were at Eton, the Postman will be at no loss to safely deliver this.

In haste as you will perceive, but always your affectionate Grandfather,
William Marsh.

Dear Georgy has omitted your address in our Direction Book, and so I will take the chance of this finding you, as there is no Treason in it, indeed I have little doubt you will get it tomorrow.

Luckily dear Martin, I have found your address after a long search!

Diary of Anne Marsh-Caldwell

18^th July 1840, Saturday

Anne Gabiou and Annie and maid came.

19^th July 1840, Sunday

Late at night they went. Arthur returned fromNorway. Dr Mojinn Mrs and children called.

20^th July 1840, Monday

Walked up to Mr Corbets and went to see Captain King’s pictures. Lapis Lazuli makes ultramarine the only blue he uses. Malachite makes the beautiful sea green, and the finest yellow the base of all the numerous colours of which yellow makes a part is Oxyde of iron. He has copied some of the finest Churches in the town, and the King would have given him 800 for one of his copies but it was contrary to etiquette for a King of England to possess a copy of that of which the King of France had the original, so they say. 

21^st July 1840, Tuesday

Mr Bernardstone called.

22^nd July 1840, Wednesday

Mr  Browne called when we were in the garden.

23^rd July 1840, Thursday

Mrs Barnardstones Picnic at La Cordette. Barnardstones, Pilkingtons, Eyres, (Mannings?) and ourselves, a party of 28. 

24^th July 1840, Friday

Called upon Mrs Richard Martineau, Miss Pilkington called, talk of protestant distinct looks.

25^th July 1840, Saturday

Masenya, Mr Corbet and Mr Piers, Mrs Browne.

26^th July 1840, Sunday

Rainy day, none to Church.

27^th July 1840, Monday

Mr Dulope at Octarian tea party. Brownes, returned afterwards. Rollingtons Thursday (tick)

28^th July 1840, Tuesday

Mrs Gu’s party, not able to go, Fanny stayed with me.

29^th July 1840, Wednesday

Glamorous soirees (?), ill, the rest out all day, five weeks.

30^th July 1840, Thursday

Martin came, drove to Cocherie with children. Party at Mr Corbets CCM to Girts.

31^st July 1840, Friday

Dined at the Cocherie, children to Pilkingtons and (Mannings, Masways?)

1^st August 1840, Saturday

Ill, not able to go to Atkinsons. Girls went, Arthur toLondon.

2^nd August 1840, Sunday

All to Church but me. W. Atkinson called and sat, dinner.

3^rd August 1840, Monday

File PB120141

Letter to Stamford Caldwell -  aged 53

from his sister Ann Marsh-Caldwell in Boulogne. [Says leaving France, 8^th May 1840?]

Postmark 6 November 1840

James Stamford Caldwell Esq

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Capecure, 4^th Nov.

My dear Stamford,

I have an excuse for writing to you to acknowledge the receipt of the £25 via [Bult?] for which again many many thanks. I have immediately disposed of some of it, much to the satisfaction and delight of my elder girls. And some more is to go in riding lessons which are so expensive that I really could not afford them. And there is nothing I more desire than that they should all be bold and good riders. The elder ones ride well and the little ones, thanks to you, have already had a good many lessons and are beginning to ride very nicely.

It is very sweet to me to receive from your kindness the means of indulging them in this and many other things. And so thank you again, dear Stamford for your cadeau.

Is Aunt Bessy still with you. I think she owes me a letter and I hope she means to pay me soon for I want sadly to hear something about you all. I am quite in the dark as to your proceedings.

I conclude you are at L.W. still. We have heard of a house near Leamington which seems not unlikely to suit us. It is about 5 miles from Leamington, and to be let or sold.

I confess I should like to get near my own country again and should feel less lost there than south of London. The Corbets are staying at Leamington which would be a great advantage.

I dined at the Atkinsons last week, and met a Mrs Adderley. She is the wife of Captain Adderley. She said she knew you and told me to remind you of a dinner at her house and of your going with her into the wood to call Captain Adderley. Mrs Atkinson always inquires kindly after you. Do send me some little message or other that you should be glad to meet them again or something I can deliver. Don’t forget, for I have a conscience and cannot forge messages though perhaps that is but a sample.

The Mainwarings are returned to England, a great loss to us. Sir Henry [Sir Henry Mainwaring born 1782-1860 of Peover, Cheshire?] has had a meeting of his [creditors?] and was received most cordially, even to [hole in letter from wax seal] when he presented himself and had pain shaking of the hand. So I hope public opinion has changed to his favour. I believe he was not nearly to blame so much as was thought and that his attorney who concealed the state of his affairs and the ways and means he took to raise money was the great culprit.

Poor Sir Henry has done all that the giving up of every personal comfort could do. And his only thought of his creditors and his children. He is going now to live with Aunt Di at her small house in the Hospital Street, till he has found a little cottage for himself and his daughters. Those nice daughters whom we regret so much and him whom we so much wish to be.

We shall have a very quiet winter if we stay. Numbers of people are gone. We have, however, our O’Sullivans, our Browns and Mr and Mrs Cayley left. He is a cousin and she a daughter of Sir George Cayley [1773-1857] that used to come to Eton. He is M.P. for the North Riding and has made a celebrated speech on the Corn Laws and is an intelligent, agreeable and sensible man.

We have also Sir James Lyon [Sir James Frederick Lyon KCB, GCH 1775-1842?] and family. A very sweet, pretty daughter introduced the rest [Georgy?]. If you would have come to see us you might have had, I assure you, charming female society and excellent music. And I am very sorry you never would, for our society really was excellent. I wish we may ever find as good in England.

This for you [Surrey?] people who despise Boulogne. However, come what will, before the 8^th of next May we shake our tents and depart.

I have had no books lately that we can talk together about. We are reading Jean Cavalier by [Lulae?] a very poor imitation of old mortality. The subject, the dragonnades in Louis 14^th time. I had a letter from dear Robert Mackintosh on occasion of the birth of his son. How the name reminds me of dear little Waterloo. He seems very happy with his fair American.

Do you remember Mr Rowles that used to come to Knightsbridge, a cousin of Mrs [Marks?], rich, prosperous, a wife and beautiful daughters. Two married quietly to his satisfaction. He has just blown his brains out. You would see it in the papers. But probably would not recollect the name.

Farewell, dearest Stamford, Kind love to my loved Aunt B if with you. The girls dear love. Always your affectionate sister,

Anne M.

Marsh Correspondence

Blackheath Park, 11^th November 1840

Dear Sir,

Upon my return home yesterday evening I found your letter of the day before. The Policy you will find  (or it ought to be there) in the Tin Box we had from poor Mr.Rowles’s, so recently!! It is made at the British Fire Office but (and ?) I believe there is the furniture of this House besides other Property Insured with it!

I believe it is a Midsummer Policy, the Premium was paid the 3^rd July up to Midsummer next if you will see by the accompanying Receipt. If Dr.Clarke is not engaged I could wish he would continue the Policy in that Office and Mr.Helps, the secretary, will easily make the necessary arrangements for so doing. I also send you the Receipt for my Tax including the Tithe ( 10/10 d per annum) for the last year except the 2nd last quarter ending 5 October last as it only came in yesterday when we were from home. It is increased from the usual sum of £4.15.10 ½ to £5.5.9, owing to the late 10 per cent being now become due.

The Tax Collector lives at Charlton, but we will send over and pay it, as he may not otherwise call for 10 days or a fortnight, and bring it when my Daughter calls on you to sign the Agreement.

You know you thought it not worth while to make out a full and formal Agreement in which we fully accorded – it was fully however understood between us that the Dr was to have for his Purchase Money all the fixtures in the House, and that Mr.Gilbert should determine the point as to what ought to be deemed “Fixtures”, being an Auctioneer and Appraiser and that Dr.Wm.Clarke would take at a valuation such articles of furniture as appear suitable to the House, and their convenience when we left it.

The only thing stipulated for in the proposed Agreement I gave Dr.Clark at the time was that he should take at Valuation Dr.Arnold’s stove in the Hall, as there is no possible place for it where we are going. I am of course to conclude you will be as kindly attentive as to see that all Rates and Taxes are paid for No.11 York Gate up to Midsummer (or Michaelmas ?)

(X called Rent Change)

---

New Page letters by William Marsh

Midsummer  (Michaelmas ?) but, and more particularly how that House now stands as to nominee - at whose risk is it now?

The Office at which I conclude there is an existing Policy, should be applied to and notice given of the changed premium (presence ?):- and indeed a proportionate sum that my Daughter ought to pay for the remaining period of the year, as we do not know at what time of the year the Policy was made: - would Dr.Clarke be safe if any accident happened to this House before Midsummer (Michaelmas ?): next, or could we ---- of the British (British Fire Office ?) after my Daughter had executed the Agreement, and account with the Doctor afterwards! – (X)

I have I am afraid owing to a day yesterday out of my usual course, and sundry interruptions, written a confused epistle to you, but if written time worse, I know you would readily make it out! – and amend it accordingly! – always

Dear Sir

Yours sincerely humble servant

Wm Marsh

I have omitted to say that my son when he left us talked of making a longer stay than usual at Boulogne indeed, that until something particularly occurred he should not come possibly much before Christmas, so as to return there with his son from Eton! – Will Dr.Clark’s solicitor insist upon his signature promptly? – If so the Agreement must be sent to over to him unless it will suit him to come himself.

His address is:-

 “A.C. Marsh Esqr

Chateau de Tus, Capicure   ??

Boulogne summer”

And if necessary it would save time for you to write him and ask, if he is not coming over the best way to send the Agreement to him to Execute, I mean the Place in London and the name of the Steamer he goes by generally and is known to the Captain – plenty of English Witnesses at Boulogne!

X     I mean until he has paid His proportion and had the Transfer noted at the British?

11 Nov 1840

Addressed L.

L.Wynne Esqle  (Esqr ?)

Marsh Correspondence

New Letter

18 Nov 1840

..her late dear Sister’s proportion of the Purchase Money from Dr.Clarke: and that when her Brother again comes over from Boulogne they will settle this arrangement: - to return to Mr.A’s  (W’s ?) question? – as I repeat there have been no other inhabitants in this House, but Miss M--- (Mouton ?) and ourselves, and as we the moment the Assignment was made to my Daughter made an Insurance at the British, namely, on the 7^th June 1827, through our friend Mr.Delmar, the Plate from the Phoenix must have been that Lady’s Insurance.

Myself and daughter were very sorry to hear this morning by a letter from Canterbury, that our friend Mr.Delmar had been so ill as to call for the aid of a Physician! - We thought he was at Brighton! We hope he is again quite convalescent: - I am always

Dear Sir

Yours very sincerely

Wm.Marsh

X You have no doubt found our Policy in the Tin Box from poor Mr.Rowles’s!- there is also a Will of Mrs Tocitians Mr.Marshes Sister in that Box – take care of it:-

L.Wynn Esqr

Marsh Correspondence

New letter.

4229/1/3/1   SRO

Boulogne

Wednesday 18 Nov 1840

Mr dear Sir,

(Your ?) letter of the 14^th ‘not having been put into the post Office in time that day, did not reach me until last night. I have seen nothing of the arrangement (?) and although I have been enquiring after it both at the office the “General Steam Packet: office and that of the “Commercial Company” in this town, I can gain no tidings of it. I will execute it and return it as soon as possible after receiving it. Meantime I think it right to let you know how matters stand. Believe me,

Yours very truly,

A.C. Marsh

Messrs Delmar & Wynne

46 Lincolne Inn Fields

London

17 Nov 1840

Marsh Correspondence

Boulogne

Saturday Afternoon

21 Nov 1840

My dear Sir,

The deed has just been delivered to me. I have executed it and return it by the Harlequin Steam Boat belonging to the General Steam Packet Company. 69, Lombard Street, which will start tonight for London at 10’oclock unless the gale now blowing should increase. The (? Missed word) of my Daughter (---) is the Witness to my Signature. Believe me

Yours very truly

A.C.Marsh

Addressed to

Messrs Selmar and Logann  ??

46 Lincolns Inn Fields

London

22 Nov 1840.

---

London Evening Standard

Monday 28 December 1840

Promotions.

Mate - Leopold George Heath (of the Excellent) has obtained half-yearly Lieutenant's Commission, as being senior in proficiency of mathmatics, &c., prior to the Christmas vacation at the Royal Naval College. Charles C. Carter made Lieutenant.Appointments.

Lieutenants - J. Sanderson, to the Excellent; Leopold George Heath to the Impregnable

---

Staffordshire Gazette and County Standard

Saturday 19 December 1840 (and Sat. 26 Dec.1840)

The Third Annual Ball for the Benefit of the North Staffordshire Infirmary, will be held at the Roe Buck Hotel, December 29,th 1840

Lady Patroness, the Duchess of Sutherland.

Stewards - R.E.Heathcote Esq., Edward Buller Esq., M.P., John Bateman Esq., Phillip Broade Esq., Stamford Caldwell Esq., The Rev. Thomas Clowes, Thomas Kinnersly Esq., Edward Kinnersly Esq., Charles Bourne Lawton Esq.,  - - Francis Twemlow Esq., Randle Wilbraham Esq.,  - - -