Michael Heath-Caldwell M.Arch
Brisbane, Queensland
ph: 0412-78-70-74
alt: m_heath_caldwell@hotmail.com
AMC disc
Sept 2011
Letter – 1855 era. AMC to Stamford.
Dear Stamford,
As you mention me in speaking of William Roscoe it tempts me just to give you a few lines, though there seems no particular reason except that I like now and then to remind you in my own person of my existence, and always am glad of a little notice of yours. With respect to William, I certainly [did, should?] hope that he would distinguish himself in his profession, but that his health seems to have rendered impossible, and I told you very truly when I said, I thought there was a [‘probability’ crossed out] possibility of his making some time or other a marriage that you might approve. I only suggested the possibility of such an event which I thought in his case amounted to a [‘possibility’ crossed out] probability for he was talented and pleasing. However I have nothing to say of his present choice, except that because, I think highly of him, therefore I respect it. But a man at his age is a proper judge, or ought to be, of what will constitute his happiness. I hope he has not mistaken the right road to his, but its not just the road I should have expected him to have chosen. [many lines crossed out] I have scratched this out, as I did not think it quite expresses my meaning. You are kind to wish to get stout and well that we may come and see you. It will be a pleasure to me to see you once again. It is a strong and tender tie to stand together the last of our house, and every year thins the ranks of our friends sadly. The new relations springing up are very dear, but there is a something about the friends of ones children, quite apart from all other blessings.
Farewell, dear Stamford, I hope you will soon get quite well and am ever your affectionate sister,
Anne M.
Letter – part of. No date.
You naughty Posy, you quite forgot to send my visiting cards. Pray send a store by the butter basket to stay here for occasion to come. Emily [Holland] comes down with me on Saturday instead of going to [Marden, Munden?], by Mrs Nothens [Hollands?] request, so you will not go to Minden I suppose. I have got your lace but cannot get your poplin match, the woman says she will send to Dublin for it, if you like it. I was just setting out to go with them and dine at [Thares broot?] Mr Morrisons, I hope I shall be at home in time for Mrs [Nothins, Hollands?] party. I shall get Miss Morrison to put me down there on her way back. I mean to call on Lady P.J. tomorrow and try to arrange for them to come and see us. Do send me Mrs [Kanerdys, Ranerlys?] direction by the basket. I do not know where to find her.
Your grumbling mother
Dearest of Posys
Cut out image of two girls.
PB11006
Letter from AMC to Mary and Posy at Anstie. Early 1860s because Heath children young. Linley Wood. November 27th [no year] Clutterbucks were Eastbury neighbours.
Thank you so much for your journal letters. It seems to make me feel [stands?] among you all and seeing that charming charming circle of children and their dear mother. And a governess she seems by is undertaking. Eliza’s mention of her to be a very nice person makes your account from her of the German life was very graphic and interesting and I shall place it with your other letters [which?] I cannot find in my heart to burn, whether from Oxford or elsewhere. The time will come when this form of society[?] has passed like a charm[?] away that they be a most valuable record of society, thought, habits and customs of this interesting period of history in which we live. My sweetest Mary, I shall write to her Friday, for her birthday. My dear dear girl. This tooth business has been really provoking in all ways but now I hope it is well over, and well done that idea of [dressing?] tooth injury the healthiness[?] of food [tooth?] I never heard suggested before, but I dare say there is something in it. I send you [Daless?] last letter by Fanny’s [dears?] and her own letter with it for you and Mary. I thought you would well like Fannys [short?] pony return Dearest of Leo’s taking our boy up country with him. I cannot sufficiently rejoice at the immense advantage of sailing with such a man as Leo for Commander and made of some talent firmness and kindness. I should think it was scarcely possible to find a more first rate commander. The story of the Toorkee pleased me more than anything I have heard or read for a very long time. So the [Elections?] at Manchester are quickly-over-high time it was when an example of determination even the Irish man working at the North Staffordshire, Bradly, tells us one and all stood to it that Government dare not execute them. They look very crestfallen and sulky when they found Government had presumed so far. It is a beautiful day here and I am going out with G, [Georgina M-C] tout de suite. I am getting [girdle well gain?] Thank you my own, for all your kind [arkests?] Mr Action I like much and his Homes[?] play[?] all right. If I were seriously ill it would be a great comfort to you all as well as to myself to have a sensible professional man upon the spot to direct us, and tell us what is the matter, what is the first thing to know. We had Mr [Byile?] (who is staying at the Mr Hutchins[?]) to tea last night and Mrs Clutterbuck and had a pleasant chat. I like Mr Orgile. Mr Clutterbuck looks very promising, and I trust now will do well. He intends to visit every [Horse, House, Herre?] carefully. Mr Orgoleis now at Brentwood near [London?] people, kind and generous, issues in the [hirter?] 50 quarts of soup per day, good [stuff?]. the [Marched?] men tell him it has made a very serious change for the better in the health of the poor. Mr Hutchin asked me as a favour to write a sketch for one of the Diocesan Publications which he had to do. He was pleased to say people would like to have it done by me. It made me very nervous, not exactly knowing how to set about it. But your sisters please me by being very much content with it so I sent a copy for you and Mary to read as I think it may fill interesting a quarter of an hour. It is too large to send in this envelope so we sent it by Book Post. Please return it as it is the only copy I have and please don’t think me very coveted, but when Louisa approves you know it always make me a little [pan?]and so God bless my Posy and my Mary and all those darling young ones. Your loving loving Mother.
Letter – unattached
File PB11008
Re Adelaide’s pleurisy? 1859 or earlier
Last, and which I cannot look or without great pain. Her strength too has certainly diminished instead of increased. Then upon the other part she has gained about 1lb ½ in weight in 9 days. And I know Sir Henry thought measure of flesh a most important symptom. Her appetite is improved, and she sleeps better and those sad night perspirations are very much abated. I took your most kind and dear letter to Louisa and its considerate enclosure. So [headleless?] different with me, and it was received as I wish you had been there with me. Adelaide is so touched and gratified by your affection and the interest you take in her. And Henry’s manly sense of your consideration for him and her, is just like him. Just [hole in page] love best to see. Adelaide was going to write to you as today but I told her I had promised to write so she begged me to say upon that account she should put it off for a few days, dear dear child! So ready to make all the little sacrifices to prudence that
File PB110010
Letter from Linley Wood. Dec 12th.
Appears to be a letter to the Reverend Rowland Corbet, Rector of Stoke Upon Tern
Dear [Adelaide?] [Rowland Corbet?]
I am exceedingly pleased with the plan of these [gems, sermons?] and anticipate the greatest good from them, progressive, you will begin with a scanty audience probably but will after a few lectures find your congregation increased to stifling point. And great great will be the change. Our blessed Lord needs but to be preached as He ought to be to be invincible over all simple stray torn hearts. Who have not been betrayed by that teachings of a false, and most ridiculously argued false and philosophy to reject the God, the great mysterious unfathomable God of which we can know, feel certain of some qualities of his wisdom, his wonderful power, his tender loving care in great things as in small. The guidance of such minds as Bacon and the loveliness of a tiny little flower. And as a dog must find a man, if he has the slightest inkling of such contemplations. What a field , ever a world of faculty, omnipresent, omnibenvolence! &c Which we know must be truth, but can only give a notion and a home. Forgive me dear Corbet for bothering you with such worn out thoughts, but they rust upon me as ever now. Your being obliged to come to us once a week. What a plan. Such visits are of communion and correction of thought, short as they may be each one, but I fancy when you are here there will be many a time that being here you wills stay a little longer and so God bless his faithful servant. Your loving and approving
AMC
Forgive me dear Rowland [Corbet] for all this talk, but what exchange of [suit?] will I have in those expanded visits I mean to expect according to the present and not the new scanty fashion and the time I mean to steal.
File PB11012-013
Needs matching to letter – probably a letter to Stamford from Anne on holiday inFrance. 1850s AMC was in Boulogne in 1856
...ringing them in and ringing them out. Processions with crucified banners embroidered with Saints and Virgins, carried by young girls in white with long white veils followed by children in white with wreathes of roses. Little boys with wreaths of roses, Women, men, priests and choristers in their scarlet and white dresses. These processions being pilgrimages from all the adjoining parishes. The parish of St.Severin at Paris presented a bell. This bell was accompanied by a procession of pilgrims from Paris. Pilgrims coming by Railroad! Odd jumble of different [areas?] is it not. These pilgrims however as a woman observed to me, “ce ne sont pas des dames,” comtemptuously and no more they were. A very ordinary set of common place looking people [than, aturn?] it was not very difficult to believe might have been paid to come. So this was rather a fiasco. During this fortnight the Pere lad Orgere[?], a Jesuit reckoned the second preacher in France has been preaching twice every day. Once a day to women, whom he addresses as Mesdames, and in the evening to the men, who have ascribed to hear him. His first sermons were really wonderfully fine, and such as any Protestant might listen to with pleasure. A Cascorme[?] upon the 3rd Chapter of John the visit of Nicodemus to our Saviour was I think even without the exception of the Bishop of Oxford the finest example of pulpit eloquence I ever heard. He [corchedest?] by extolling his audience to study the Scriptures, holding the Gospels over their heads in his hand and saying ‘Vous me croyez fort, vous me croyes paipout dans cette chaise, et bien mes frères sachez que je ne sais rien, rien, absolument rien que de ce que je paise dans cette livre, cette livre, mes frères. We were so pleased we thought this magnificent church was about to be purified and [coarjetisest?] from within. Judge of our mortification when a few days afterwards Henry and the girls (for I could not get in) heard the darkest idolatry of the Virgin Mary preached as Queen of Heaven, and giver of very good gift, not a mediator, but originator, and this able man not only applauding those who had fallen down and worshipped her silver image as a woman about the sheet, but turning round in his pulpit and addressing her in a most fervent prayer. This will never, never do. To say nothing of the idolatry in itself so bad and the root of so much else that is bad. It will never do in this country except among the most ignorant or bigoted. I have been long upon the subject for I thought you might be interested to hear how things are going on. I had planned a run into Switzerland to refresh body and acquire new ideas for my trade but found the shortest run would cost more than I thought it right to spend so have commuted it for a few days at Paris where [A?] and I go next month I hope.
Every your loving
A.M.
Do tell me how you are
File PB110014
Newspaper advert.
Morning Governess.
A married lady about 30 years of age, who has devoted the last 12 months to the education of young ladies, both as resident and morning governess, having 2 or 3 hours in each day disengaged, on account of one of her pupils leaving town, is desirous of meeting with an ENGAGEMENT in a gentleman’s family. She professes to teach music with the harp and piano, drawing in pencil and crayon, flower painting, English and French (the latter she speaks fluently, having been educated on the Continent), history, and geography. Terms 2s. an hour. Address, post paid, to B.B., at Mr. Moor’s, librarian, Store-street, Bedford-square.
File PB110016
Slightly burned letter. Appears to be notes on grammar. 1820s – 1830s. Pages out of order.
[‘quickly’ crossed out] – in the garden. It might be to the garden or up the garden. These words shew the manner in which he runs with respect to the garden. This rabbit runs quickly – into the earth or upon the earth or over the earth, shews how he runs with respect to the earth. This boy beats quickly upon the table, shews the relation of the action to the table. That is how he beats the table, not the quality of his beats. That is an adverb, he beats quickly. But we want to know he beats the table either upon it, or under it, or over it, or at it or near it.
These are prepositions.
7th
Conjunction – these join sentences together. John walks and Anne walks. These relations are only two either they are joined together or they are separated. So conjunctions are of two sorts. Conjunctions which join Asymmetric, which disjoin. But so that if two sentences you make one. John walks is a sentence. Anne walks is another sentence, by using the Conjunction and you join them into a
The Childs Grammar.
Words are divided into different –
The first sort are called Nouns. All the names of things, places, people, every name of [kind of] thing is a Noun. Such as Girl, Apple, London, history, Virtue. Eg History is a thing written, made or told. And Virtue may be called a real thing.
There are two kinds of Nouns.
Common nouns and proper Nouns.
Common Nouns are the nouns for things in common, as by which signifies any boys. [Pronoun?] which signifies all or any term. But Proper Nouns are the names of particular things such as Martin signifies our boy Martin. London, that one townLondon.
2nd.
The next sort of words are those which are put to Nouns to show their quality, what a thing is. They are called adjectives. As green, tall, sweet, naughty. A green tree, a tall girl, a naughty boy. Shows the tree is of a green quality, the girl is of a tall quality &c.
The next sort of word is that which shows the acting of the Noun. What a thing does, as to run, walk, smile, hope. The tall girls run, or the boy hopes. There are two sorts of Verbs, the Active and the Passive. The Active when they shew what a thing does, as the boy beats. The passive
3rd.
The third sort of words are called Pronouns. Pro-noun. For Noun. They are the words which we use instead of repeating the Noun which would be troublesome. So instead of saying Louisa is good, Louisa has said a good lesson. We say Louisa is good, she has said a good lesson. A little child says Posy wants a bit of cake, we say I want a bit of cake instead of using our own name. There are a many kinds of Pronouns, which I will explain by the bye.
shows what is done to a thing. The boy is beaten.
5th.
The next part of speech is called Adverbs and Verbs. You must observe now that an action as well as a thing Noun. Thus you may run quickly or run slowly as well as have a quick horse or a slow horse. Quickly and slowly. Adverbs showing the quality of Verbs, just as quick horse, slow horse shew that qualities of a noun. You may observe that a great many adverbs are nothing
But adjectives altered by putting –ly to them, as quick, quickly. But some adverbs are quite altered. As good adjectives is made into well adverb a good boy. We don’t say he behaves goodly but we say he behaves well. You may always know an adverb –ly its showing the quality of a verb.
6th
The Proposition is harder. It shews the relation that the verb bears to something else which it acts upon. As the boy runs about is a Preposition, perhaps you may think it an Adverb, but it is not. It relates to something understood. For though you do not say he runs about in a place we know you must mean it so we understand it. We call it therefore a word understood. What is spoken we call expressed. Do you fully comprehend this difference between expressed and understood. Yes. Well then you see about is a preposition for it relates to a word understood that is the running[?] about which the boy is running.
Adverbs and Prepositions and –
I speak of Charles.
The boy runs, notwithstanding what you say.
Oh but you are a naughty boy.
And not to the verb which is expressed. He runs. For it does not shew his mode, manner of running.
Of is a preposition, it shows the relation of your speaking of Charles. Notwithstanding is a Preposition but here it shews the relation to an action, that of your speaking, and not to a Noun, but is a Conjunction for it joins it. To the sentence you are a naughty boy, you may know a conjunction by the sense being complete either before or after it so that if you leave it you will have two complete sentences for…
Of Pronouns.
There are so many sorts of Pronouns and they require so much attention that I have put them at the last here. In order to explain them very fully. The first thing to observe is how to know a pronoun. Whatever was [stands?] instead of a noun is a pronoun. He, his, she, her, hers herself
A indefinite article, why? Good adjective boy, common noun why?
Nouns verbs.
Why? It is the action the boy does, He Pronoun. Why? It stands for boy. Quickly adverb. Why? Shews how he runs.
About, preposition because it relates or shews not what belongs to the rest but what belongs to the garden.
And Conjunction why? Because it joins these two sentences. He was about the garden, he tumbles.
[Math, walk?] interjection.
Or adverbs Prepositions.
And Conjunctions
The boy. He runs about.
In this instance Oh! Is a complete sense, if you join nothing to it.
John walks. Anne walks. But sometimes though they join the words into one sentence they do not join the meaning, as it were, for John walks and Anne walks means that both walk. But John walks or Anne walks means they are separated either one or other walks. These sort are therefore called Disjunctive Conjunctions. The others Conjunctive Conjunctions.
There is one other sort of words, Articles, this is usually counted the first. I cannot explain it you the nature of an article. There are but two, a and the. They are only put before Nouns and they shew a kind of quality. That quality is whether the Noun you are speaking of is any one of its kind no matter which. Or whether it is one particular one of its kind. A boy runs, is any boy. The boy runs is that particular boy, you are speaking of. A is therefore the indefinite article, that does not define or shew which boy is meant. The is the definite article because it does define or shew.
9th
The 9th part of speech is the Interjection. This is very easy, it is the sort of word used for calling out or exclaim. Oh! Alas! Pooh! And so on. They hardly are words.
Passing Exercises.
A good boy
A good boy runs
A good boy runs, he runs quickly.
He runs quickly about the garden.
He runs about the garden and he tumbles.
A good boy, he runs quickly about the garden and he tumbles. Oh dear! Halloo!
FilePB110028/29
Hugh Rowley
Rowley and his nephews mortgaged Montpellier (Linley Wood) to Mr Bleke from whom Mr John Lawton purchased it.
In 1788 purchased for £570 by James Caldwell.
Abraham Crompton, who died 1734 bought Chorley Hall, his 2nd daughter Elizabeth married first [Henry] Coape Esq of Duffield, and second Samuel Hacker of London. Abraham, his son settled at Chorley & died 1767. Samuel [Crompton], the eldest son of 1st named Abraham – at Derby succeeding his father born 1677 died 1757. 1st wife, Ann, daughter of William Cook Esq, of Long Houghton, Yorkshire. Married 2nd wife Martha, daughter of Elhauch[?] Rich of Balshouse, Yorkshire Esq, Co-heir with Mary, wife of John Hatfield, of Aymer Rich Esq. She had a former husband Rich Rodes of Long Hampton, Esq., and who was brother to the 1st wife of Samuel Crompton, by whom she had two daughters, Mary and Martha Rodes. The former died unmarried, the latter inherited the great estates of Rodes and Rich’s. Married Henry Lock [Leek?] of [London,Leith?], Merchant whose daughter was married to Mr Milnes = Milne’s Gas [bell?] oven des alto[?]
File PB110030
AMC note. 1860s to early 1870s
Blank Legacies
Annuity Mary Beardmore
4 Household Servants
Thomas Witney
Henry and Anne Godman[?]
Arthur Roscoe
Thomas Roscoe
Mark Roscoe
El M.C.
Fanny Crofton
G.A M.C.
Mary Heath
Henry Loring
30 North Staffordshire Share 370
Already Apportioned 156
Emily Roscoe
214
199
214 North Staffordshire at £22 = £4768
199 £4378
Apportioned already
Roscoes 45.0
Marshes 90.0
Mary Beardmore 5.0
North Staffordshire Infirmary 4.0
L.G.R M-C 12.
156
Emily Roscoe 15.
171
Proposed Apportionment.
Arthur Roscoe 800
Thomas Roscoe 800
Frank Roscoe 800
Frances Crofton 800
EM-C 300
G.A.M-C 300
RJ M-C 300
Mary Heath 300
Henry Loring 300
£4700
Legacies Etc
To 3 Roscoes 15 N.S. Share each at 23 per share £1035
To 6 Marshes 15 N.S. Shares each at ditto £2670
To Mary Beardmore 5 d d d £115
To six household servants £100
Thomas Wetray £10
Henry Godman & wife £10
Samuel Beardmore £20
North Staffordshire Infirmary 4 N.S. Share at £23 £92
Asylum Blind £50
E.L, M-C 4 N.S. Shares at £23 £92
G.A. M-C ditto £92
R.J. M-C ditto £92
Mr Tomkinson £200
E.L. M-C Executrix £100
G.A. M-C ditto £100
R.J. M-C ditto £100
North Staffordshire Infirmary £90
Cruelty Animals £60
Difference in Price between £86 and present Price South Western £10
To Mary Beardmore
Repairs Linley Wood £1000
£5436
File PB110032
Letter with black border.
Difficult to read, writing horizontal and vertical over top again. 1850-51
July 24th
My dearest Posy.
Yes I do wish for you often and often and most when the cloud is upon me. I have felt very low at times and my spirits a good deal disturbed by the change to London and back again, and the sort of hurry we have been in since. Such things are not good too me yet[?] It is rather too early days and I have often wish too my dear friend and child and should be glad to get her home though happy to think she is away from home as these absences are the best [lys, things?] for you all, both mentally and bodily. My dearest Polly too, I should be glad to see her sweet face again, and yet am so glad she is enjoying herself. And I hope you are both laying in a stack of fresh health and spirits. I am a good deal oppressed by the [interie arsuity?] I have yet to get my book finished. I have only 75 pages more to do, and as I approach the wished for goal I feel an impatience not to be expressed for the blessed rest of having done. All my affairs too are got into such arrears during my absence. And I have felt so [west and loginard?] that I have been able to do little [duty?] but work my duty portion of my book. The Croftons leave us to day. Our dearest Fanny seems so sorry to go that it quite delights me. She is indeed the sweetest married daughter that ever mother had. The naughty little babe is at last beginning to take to me, just as she is going away. It is a sweet child indeed, full of intelligence or rather I should say sense for she is not a very lively child I think. Richard was looking very badly but Dr [Nelby?] has helped him a good deal. The negotiation for the exchange still goes on I believe, but there is nothing decided yet. Louisa felt ill again last Friday of a sore throat and I was obliged to send for Dr [Novosire?]. He says the windpipe is affected, and she is very much out of order. I think she is better, but you know what a difficult invalid she is to manage and her impossibility as it would seem to help doing too much. I think we shall do better with her when we are quite alone. Adelaide went off [pens pervenly?] with Mrs Barnardiston [Greenwood relative] yesterday (at lent?). Two squires William Roscoe and Frank were in attendance to conduct her to the Eastern Rail to join Mrs B. She was half sorry to go and I was whole sorry to part with her but insisted upon her going according to my usual principles. Sir Nosy comes next Tuesday and stays till Friday or Saturday. I don’t know exactly what I shall do with him now Richard is gone. But I have asked Sir William [Milman] and Lady Milman to dine with him Wednesday and Mr and Mrs Fowler Thursday, and I think of jelly the [stardy?] chap Mr Tooke for the first day. Tuesday was not to him his honour quite alone. Fanny and Richard and the [Bobs?] are just [disaster?] I still miss my child much more than her child after all she is as infinitely sweet and amiable. Take care of your dear dear children and bring me two nice healthy girls back, that’s my dear. Louisa I fear will require more care than ever. Give my kind love to Mary Greenwood who I think you are now alone with and to my own loved to Polly. This is a sad short stupid letter but [as?] my lover’s of all kinds go into this frosty book, the last years of my life are like a cleaner of books with brief intervals of sanity. Ever my dearest Posy’s tender Mother. [??]
File PB110034
Letter from AMC to Stamford. July 1850.
Black bordered letter. May be part of another one.
Needs to be sorted
Continues – of serenity which was a good deal disturbed by the having of new objects. These are states of the mind where what one most desires is uninterrupted quiet, and such is mine, but quiet and my duties will be at issue for many a long year. This weather has made such work with our hay, but as we [commence, consume remain?] a great deal in the yard a have one [rest?] well got in for market it does not so very much matter, and I look upon it with philosophy. The corn here is looking remarkably well. Richard [Crofton] has decided upon negotiating an exchange and is now in the course of a negotiation with a certain Captain South[?] as perhaps Louisa told you. He is far too delicate to run the [profit, project?] [East?] of Jamaica. And I cannot without trembling think of my sweet Fanny’s happiness being brought into such jeopardy. The world is, to me at least, so stagnant that I have nothing to tell you that the Newspapers will not tell you far better than they do me. Except a little anecdote that runs about and that does not contribute to P. Albert’s popularity with one party at least. Namely that he should say to the Duke of Cambridge that the English Aristocracy wanted bringing down. To which the Duke replied ‘God forbid.’ And that there does not seem much doubt but that poor Sir Robert [Peel, fell from horse] really had a seizure in the heart, and that from his helplessness he fell so heavily. Never was there a more agonizing departure than his. At least his previous suffering. Poor Lady P they say is a weak creature, but she is quite quite overwhelmed, poor thing. This is a stupid letter indeed, instead of Louisa’s merry ones, but my merry days are at an end.
I am
My dear Stamfords
Affectionate sister,
A.M.
File PB110037
Part of longer letter?
AMC to Stamford, May be 1843, death of William Roscoe. Or Anna Mary Hutton/Roscoe death 1852 but AMC would have called her Mrs Hutton
Continues… dear Mary Roscoe this morning but with alas! A very bad account which had followed Eliza to Liverpool. She [tells?] of coming up again as to day. The portent appears to be rapidly sinking and if it pleases God to take her to himself it will be the greatest mercy as I fear from what our good Dr told me when in London, that any recovery, however perfect, could never be relied upon as to [lost?] and of any recovery at all there was little expectation. Your charming letter to dear Eliza which she shewed me was a great comfort to her. Words so tender, so sensible and so true must warm and support any heart. You say you do not blame me for shewing your letter, and I hope you do not wish that the new edition should be in a less expensive form than the other as you had reason to think it would become a popular work. I hope I did what was right, perhaps you would write to Mr [Slobert?] yourself, as I am sure one line from yourself, a gentleman Author, who does not care for them, or want them will have more effect than anything else. And much more than anything from that contemptible Annie in [like?] my messenger a lady writer. I have a sweet letter from one in our families. Farewell dear Stamford for I am very busy today. I have not spoken to Mr Chapman for I have not seen him since I got your letter. But would you like me to do so before proceeding further with Mr Colburn.
Ever your own affectionate AM.
File PB110038
Eastbury,
February 28th 1856
My dear Stamford,
It made me very happy to see your hand writing. And still more to receive such a comfortable conversational letter. It seemed as if we might be sitting over the fire at dear old Linley, talking away with all our usual confidence in each other. You call it “a volume,” and say it is long. You little know the pleasure it gives me to receive such “volumes.”
The only drawback was the account of your health. I had hoped from Miss Beardmore’s last little Bulletin, some weeks ago, that you were better, and your tiresome leg less annoying and painful. It grieves me to hear this is not so. Still it is a comfort to believe that this plague is at least a wholesome one, but it is excessively trying. I honour your manly patience and submission, nay more, gratitude. And only hope it may please God to give me grace to imitate it, when my turn comes. Louisa will have told you of poor dear Sir Hyde [Parker]. His water on the chest suffocating him and quite blind. Some days his breathing is so oppressed he cannot walk round the table of Captain Eyre’s cabin in the St.George, where he now is, and cannot be moved though most anxious to get on board a packet and return to England to die there. The St.George however, is ordered home, and please God, he may be spared to draw his last breath in dear Mrs Eden’s arms. His patience and submission is, they say, beautiful. And that in one, not very famous for patience in former days, makes me hope that he has made his peace with God and is well prepared to depart. He was never wanting in serious thoughts though except to very intimate friends such as Arthur and myself, he never gave words to them. Poor fellow! It is an affecting conclusion of a bustling joyous life. I am answering your letter “bit by bit.” As you say you wrote it. Next I come to my little rugs. I am delighted you are pleased with them. I was so happy in working them and fancy the flowers in the glass standing upon them and think myself almost with you. Next I come to what you say of our visit last year. All I can say is, never was a happier one. Though is it possible to help being happy, when such kind pains were taken to make us so. Shewing themselves in every form the greatest to the least. We must have been ungrateful wretches indeed if we had not felt it. As for me, there is nothing I care for like love, and I am sure your affection was shewed not only in your indulgence, but even in your displeasure. I shall never forget the feeling you shewed, now when I asked your forgiveness. The “heartily heartily” with which it was granted. I would almost have consoled myself for having been wrong, my heart was so touched by the way in which you took it. But as I am upon the subject, just allow me, dear Stamford, to say, that I think I let the matter appear worse than it really was. But I felt too much ashamed of myself to offer excuses. Which after all are but vain, for wrong I had been. But the fact was, that I considered the thing as entirely over, and only remembered it as a proof how partial your affection to L had been. And so, one day at breakfast, I remember the moment well, I let it out, but spoke of it slightly, and as a thing for ever over, and it appears she really understood little about it. One thing I can assure you of, when we came down to you last time, that we were all in as entire ignorance of what your plans and intentions were as anybody in the world could be. Still I was wrong, and I have received a lesson which I hope will never be forgotten and which your gentleness and feeling upon the occasion only rendered the more impressive, but pray do not add to your other troubles, dearest Stamford that of thinking any expectations had been thus raised in L’s mind. I assure you that was not in the least the case. To return to our visit to you, I think back upon it with so much pleasure. Those chats in the evening, the pleasant drives, which would have been still pleasanter had not your careful consideration for Louisa’s eyes made you give up your place in the carriage to her. We understand it and felt it all. These eyes are got quite well, and are always happily employed when writing to you. It is a great pleasure to her to think that her little “News letters” while away a quarter of an hour for you agreeably. You may be sure they will never fail. She begs me to say, she was going to write yesterday but I begged he to put it off a day or two, as I wished so much to write and thank you for your letter myself. As I am about Louisa, I may as well say, you are in a little mistake about the respective ages of J.A. and herself. I don’t know which you make the eldest, but John [Hensleigh] Allen was born the year after I was married, and in the same year with Louisa. But I forget which of them appeared first. Poor fellow! His disappointment with respect to Lady R Seymour’s property (for a considerable share of which he was heir but which the good old lady had so [preferred?], and the omission of one word in a will had so blundered that he came in for scarcely anything) had put on end to the possibility of matrimonial ideas, unless, which is very unlikely, anything good should turn up to him from other relations. With regard to the last “bit” of your letter, that which relates to the “disposition of our property,” what can one say [sentenced scribbled out] but that I enter thoroughly into all your feelings. And when I consider the value of that great talent with the disposition of which you are entrusted. (when not made the means of ministering to ostentation and vain expense, but faithfully used for the serious and important purposes of life) I can quite understand the anxiety you feel, in the conscientious exercise of the power committed to your hands. I can only pray that you may be directed to that which is really best, most satisfactory to your own views of human relations, and as far as consistent with these, most conducive to the real welfare and advantage of the many really admirable men and women, about to succeed you and your sisters three in battle of life. You know that my views upon the subject are perhaps a little different from yours. I think if I had this great a beneficent power entrusted to me, I should be anxious to diffuse among as many as it was possible (consistently with one object) the immense benefit which money in the hands of the wise and good becomes. Rather than to concentrate it upon one individual, to whom instead of a benefit, it might become a snare. But it pleases God that thus it should be, and that persons equally anxious to act conscientiously and rightly, may view the subject in different lights, as is probably the case with you and me. Two things I shall ever bear testimony to, the absence of all ostentation and vanity in your expenditure when at the head of your fortune, and the liberal exercise of Charity. I am busy with another story, and you will smile when I tell you that I have minded what you said in joke about my love of “Lords” and I don’t think the existence of such a thing is even hinted at through the whole story. And so God bless and keep you dear Stamford, your ever affectionate sister,
A.M.
I am so grieved that horrid Neuralgia is added to your other torments. I find a little cotton wool soaked in Eau de Cologne, and hot water, but as strong as I can possibly bear it stops the pain better than anything. It should be Eau de Cologne “Veritable.” Term Marie Farina.
File PB110046
Needs to be sorted
3 page letter from AMC to Stamford. Pages may be mixed up. Don’t run together. 1856’ish.
My dear Stamford,
I have had great pleasure in working these two little flower mats for your two glasses for flowers in your dining room. And I shall be very happy if they suit your taste. I had finished them to send upon my birthday the 9th January but when I took them to be made up found they had to make the Chemille border expres, and could not get them done in time. We had forgotten too the exact direction for parcels by rail. And I was obliged to write to Miss Beardmore to ask for it. I have been waiting to write till I could send my goods and my letter with them. We are leading as usual a quite life enough. But I amuse myself very well having plenty to do upon my little farm, for I work it with two donkeys, having my horses turned out and without shoes, hay and corn being so dear, and as I have not the least bit of arable I find my two donkeys, so I look
well after my workers get a good deal done. I am now carrying out manure for the mowing grass land for hay promises to pay well for any pains taken about it. The weather is perfectly lovely but I am obliged to keep in doors, having a swelled face. And so can only groan and wish I was out. Louisa and I were in London from Friday 4th to Tuesday, and on Saturday 5th Louisa took Posy down to Deptford to –
[1857, Nele Loring born, so 1857, son of Adelaide]
2- and others of the olden time were. Mr Fitzherbert too, that beautiful creature and with so much that was good in him dashed alas! With so much that was wrong is gone too I see. The last time I saw him was at a concert given at his house some years ago. He was aged but his figure as erect and graceful as ever. I did not make myself known to him, though we happened to have some little talk about the best arrangement of the chairs. Dears Ady, Adelaide made us all happy on Sunday by giving us another little boy. We wished all of us for a girl, but girls are not to be had. Of my 9 grandchildren only two girls. Adelaide’s boys are, however, such really splendid creatures that one can scarcely regret the having this baby a boy too. She is very well and brought her little boy with less suffering than ordinary. I was very happy with Henry Loring, Adelaide and her boys last Autumn at Boulogne. They paid me a visit for a month. And then paid their share of expenses for the second month. By which means without injustice to others [they, Eliza?] termed[?] their expenses of this rest and outing, which Newrys health, verden absolutely never pay. He works too hard, the parish is large and he is indefatigable. He came looking so ill, but I sent him to England quite fat and jolly looking. I am sorry to say his health is giving way a little again. That horrid complaint, the Clergyman’s throat, threatens him. Quite a grievance unheard of in your and my days. But they did not work them as they do now. Henry Loring is a charming fellow, so gay and manly with his goodness and piety. It makes such a Christian labourer wonderfully effective. Adelaide works with him in his Parish like a little horse, only too happy to do anything with and for him, it is a lovely household in that tiny [west?] of theirs at Cobham. Poor Mary [Heath] is a widow almost. Leo only gets home Saturday and Sunday. And not always I fear that, but this Coast Guard promotion is a
Page 3 – because of course what little I was able to do there was a sort of scruple about letting me do. As you will well understand, in my last letter Henry [Loring] said he had decided upon Sea View in the Isle of Wight as the softest and most sheltered situation, the South side of the Island is too hot, or too cold, for the wind comes sharp up the Channel and the Sun is fierce, but Sea View is a sweet little retired spot in Priory Bay, just opposite Portsmouth so there is the amusement of the shipping. Pretty small houses covered with myrtles. And a few quite quiet visitants, but only three miles from Ryde where are excellent shops. And where grapes and other delicacies which will be such a treat. And such a medicine for her can be readily got,. Indeed dearest Stamford you cannot easily imagine the relief and comfort it is to my mind to feel that now, nothing need or will be spared. Henry writes in the tenderest terms of my dear Mary’s care and attention to her sister at her hospitable house. And I am sure Leo, who is just returned from one of his [ventures?] upon his naval business, will be everything that is most kind. It would please and touch you to see this loving sisterhood, my darling Georgy and Posy devoting themselves to the staying with and nursing her with incessant, unremitting tenderness and care. As would my Louisa only we cannot allow her to undergo the fatigue. I am happy to say Louisa since she was put upon Sir Henry’s [Holland] plan has been day by day growing better and this morning indulged herself with reading a few sentences in some paper or other that was about. And when Georgy said “Do let me read it to you,” said “Oh you do not know the pleasure [ PB110041] of being able to read this little bit to myself.” She said the other day, “I am almost tempted to feel as if nobody was to be pitied who could read.” I think, or rather would fair hope, that my Adelaide has made an advance upon the whole, in spite of the unfavourable symptoms, but I will write again as soon as I have seen Sir Henry and tell you his opinion. Saturday we went over to call upon Louisa Holland. I don’t know whether you even know who she is. The youngest daughter of Mr Swinton Holland. She has for the last five years lived with Edward [Holland?] at Dumbleton, assisting the eldest daughter Sophy in the care of his nine children. Mr Noth [Holland?] has thought best to marry again in order as the wicked say, to add nine more. And just as Louisa [Holland] was rather not knowing where to bestow herself, steps forward an old friend of her brother’s, a son of Sir Richard Croft of sad Princess Charlotte memory, and asks her to share his parsonage at Hollingdon with him, and two motherless boys. [Reverend Richard Croft] Never was anything more a propas. Louisa, who is a most amiable creature, looks as happy as her dearest friend could wish. And could not have bestowed herself and her fifteen thousand pounds better everybody thinks. And so farewell dearest Stamford. Everybody is out or I should have all sorts of love to send you from the party. You would be pleased to see how young and well dear Fanny looks. Every your truly affectionate and grateful sister,
A.M.
and I was very glad to hear so excellent an account of you from Miss Beardmore. My face aches so I am very stupid.
Box 2
FilePB110001
Needs to be sorted
Page 2 – from Eastbury letterhead. Before 1859
It was found that she had had a narrow escape of fracturing the scull. The muscle at the top of the head is considerably indented, but there is every reason to hope the bone itself has escaped injury. However, yesterday I went to town and consulted Sir Henry. He tells me the [string?] to be apprehended after such accidents, is, a chronic inflammation of the internal lining of the scull, which [fractures?] violent periodical head aches, to prevent which the greatest and long continued care is necessary. The great necessity is to keep her very quiet, and above all things, not to suffer her at present either to read, or write. I hope by a little perseverance we shall set all right again but I have been very [weary?] about this precious child. My dear Adelaide has safely arrived at Mersham where she is to pay a little visit to Mary, for change of air. She is, I trust, really better but still in a state to occasion much anxiety. When I was consulting Sir Henry about her I said “I cannot help feeling anxious about her.” His reply in a very grave tone was, “There is cause for the most serious anxiety. She will require the greatest care and for a very long time. She has not an atom of strength to spare.” The fear is not exactly of consumption for the lungs are at present without disease, but of decline, of which her grandmother the first Mrs Marsh died, a general decline of vital power in which the lungs, as well as the other organs, become involved. Dear little creature. She has been too imprudently regardless of herself. But now she is very good and docile. Everything is being done for her amongst us, to procure her care and rest and delicate food, of every description, and may God bless our endeavours and spare her to her dear and excellent husband, the wife on whom he so dotes. It is a great trial to his fortitude, but he is in this proof, as in all since I have ever known him, all the heart can wish and the judgment…
Continues to file PB110011??
File PB110003
Needs to be sorted – Before 1858
Page 3 –from Eastbury letterhead.
She says she believes that day she was seized, with a little fit of the blues, wondering whether you liked to have her letters, or whether you were not tired of them. In short she wanted a little encouragement, which if she had told me what was passing in her mind, I was sure I could have given her and saved you the trouble.
You ask for details of our most provoking robbery, which has done more to disgust me with Eastbury than anything that could have happened. I feel a sort of desecration of sacred home to have had it thus successfully invaded. I have little doubt that a servant was in communication with the thieves. For they seemed to know the interior of the house so perfectly. Where the plate both in use and in store was kept. Where the “Lady” slept. They broke in or were let in through a window which opens to the ground. The door of that room I always had locked and hooked outside when the room was not occupied. That very night, the housemaid, a new servant whom I suspect had something to do with it left that door unhooked. Likewise a little dog we had in the house never barked though the thieves must have passed by him and I think something must have dosed him. Our large blood hound which sleeps outside had been thoroughly dosed. But this the thieves must have done themselves. Our man servant, not quite twenty, sleeps upon the ground floor, by the kitchen. Old Turner slept in a room above. The young man was awakened by the thieves opening his door and throwing something down. He saw a tall man and a short man, they came to his bedside, put something to his head and said they would shoot him if he made the least noise and that there were four of them in the house. And asked whether the mistress did not sleep at the top of the bed stairs. They tried to get to the larder but did not succeed breaking the key in the lock. They then passed through his room which is the passage room to the other side of the house, and he heard them walking about and going upstairs. He did not know how many there might be. But when they were busy [shobfobed?] on a part of his dress, got his double barreled gun from under his bed, let himself out and went under Tanners window to call him to help. Poor old Turner shewed the white feather and would not move. And Bluff, the blood hound, would not stir, but was overpowered with sleep. And when he tried to pull him out of his kennel bit his hand. When Turner …
File PB11005
Needs to be sorted – about 1850
Page 5
Thank you a thousand times for your kind thought in intending to send to Rose “a little contribution,” towards her keep at Malta.” It will be a very great pleasure to her to be the means, as you so delicately and kindly thing, of being the medium through which it passes to those dear Croftons.
What a volume this is. I shall wait with impatience to your 2nd Vol. which you promise me some day or other. Now do you like Macauly. I am in love with William 3rd. The Russians are to give up Nicholaieff they say. But to return the Isles of Alard upon condition of not fortifying them.
[in pencil] only the very first person in history. The little …
File PB110007 - 1857 AMC to Stamford
Needs to be sorted
Continues….lovely spot now, however enough of this. It makes me very busy for I am doing a little thing here and a little thing there to make it look spruce and nice. And do my best to have it sold. Though it will not be in human nature to help a little joy if it is not. I am so very fond of it. We have old Mary [Holland] staying with us at present, looking very old. But affable and agreeable, sensible and clever. She always was. But age seems to me to have softened her or perhaps, “as one by one our joys depart” we become more indulgent and partial to the few friends of early days that are left. But I feel very happy to have her. Adelaide is still here and her nursery. She was getting on nicely, but this Siberian weather has brought back her cough again in spite of all our precautions. Malta [?] comes home about the 15th. They come to Liverpool, from where Georgy will proceed direct to me. But Richard and his wife and children go first to Lake [rip in page] suits me very [rip in page] would rather have my house unoccupied whilst all these different people are coming to look at it. The sale is from for the 1st of June. It is touching to find that Richard had concealed from Fanny his intense desire to get to the House of his father, till it was found to be the most convenient and least expensive plan. He is as generous and kind a husband as ever woman had. And she deserves one as much as ever woman did. It is pleasant to see how Ady’s children bloom out at this dear healthy [rip in page] never saw a [rip in page] little boys. There is nothing going on and no news to tell. Louisa perhaps would have raked together some but my head is so full of business that I have room for nothing else. Everybody is now reading Mrs Gaskells “Life of Miss Bronte.” Jane Eyre. Small times! When a book of this description is the leading event of the day. Our pastor Mr Sands is going next week to marry the governess at Moor Park, a blousy[?] widow, twenty years older than himself. Which makes his friends half angry, half sorry. But what do you care. This is really the only thing I can find to tell you. But I am ever your most busy and most loving sister,
Anne Marsh
File PB110009
Needs to be sorted
Letter from Eastbury. [probably 1857] AMC to Stamford]
Continues . Page 2….expense of their frugal purse cease to be comforts and become worries. Whilst Georgy was nursing Adelaide told her to procure at my expense what little additions to their simple board she thought desirable. And I have just paid her little bill. The amount is not much, yet one knows the dear girl would always be stinting herself. Cream, which they never see. A bit of fat or a chicken now and then with the sauce made of cream, a custard. A little fruit and cream, which she particularly enjoyed and which was particularly good for her was what Georgy got for her. A quarter of a pint of cream was usually as much as she could consume in the day, unless it was wanted for cooking. I think as you are so kindly thoughtful for her, if you approve the most useful way of arranging it will be, for me to tell her, that whilst she is at the Sea, to which she is to go, as soon as her visit to Mary, whom she is now with and where they stay a week from this time is over. You would wish her to have cream daily. And a chicken or a dish of fish once a week at your expense. She will be at the Sea a month. This will be a great help. And will enable Henry [Loring] to insist upon her getting there good things for herself. Dear Mary [Heath] is most careful of her, at her hospitable house. And the two little mothers are very happy, sitting in Mary’s pretty grounds and talking over their children. The last accounts of Ady were certainly better. But she is still, and will I fear, be for a long time in a very delicate and precarious state. But by the blessing of God I trust through all the care she receives, that we may save this precious creature and see her strong and well again, restored to all her native activity and energy.
And now thank you very much indeed my dear brother for your generous consideration of me. I will not affect to deny that your kindness is very timely, for the circumstances of the year render this rather a heavy summer. My Banker is Sir Samuel Scott, Bart & Co.
1 Cavendish Square.
Continues?
File PB110011
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AMC to Stamford
Letter from Eastbury – Summer 1857 - [appears to follow on in time from previous letter]
Page 3…approve. A thorough man and a thorough Christian. Ady’s children are charming little fellows. Such loving, spirited healthy little lads. You will guess how Fanny and I fell into each others arms at meeting after four years and a half separation [in Malta]. She does not look a day older. And though Ady when she started, her sea voyage quite set her up, and she looks as [hernot, health?] could wish now. Richard is the same nice sensible gentlemanlike man as ever. They brought me four children, Duke and Amy, as nice a little girl and boy as ever you saw. Little children are mostly pretty and interesting. It is when they grow up into boys and girls that they are apt to be disagreeable and uninteresting. But these two are really charming. Prey don’t think me doting, wherever they go they are remarked for their gentle manners and nice behaviour and their love for each other is quite touching. And the care they take of their little brother Tim, so generous and pretty in every way. Little Tim has been delicate and consequently is, we think, rather spoilt but he will soon grow out of it. The baby is a noble child, a large handsome active and [sweeterped?] for his age. And will, please God, make a fine man. We had a pleasant visit at Mersham with sweet Mary [Heath], so happy in her pretty house with her children and her nice clever husband. She is rather too thin and not so strong as I could wish. But life is so easy under her circumstances and Leo takes such good care of her, that I hope she will be in no danger of over-running her strength as my pretty Ady has done. I was in town yesterday but heard nothing that is not in the newspapers. One meets at every turn Officers upon leave hurrying back. No apprehensions seem entertained as to the final result. And I hope this disaster will result in a better management of India than has been the case under the still too great influence of that old, prejudiced, [arienist?], slow lady Mrs Company. It is so hot. I can write no more. I hope the genial summer weather agrees with you. I am very strong and well, and so grateful for the blessing. Every your affectionate sister dearest Stamford,
Anne Marsh.
File PB110013
Black edged letter. AMC to Posy
My Dearest Posy
The account you give of yourself has made me very happy. I really think thanks to the great kindness of your friends that you will at last be restored to happy health, which my dear child, next to a happy heart, is the greatest blessing under God we can in this world enjoy. I am delighted with your account of the house you are in and of your kind hostess, which appeared to me as beautiful aspect[?] Since then we have got Mary Lyons account of you. She rather fidgeted me by saying she hoped you would be in time to keep your appointment to see the Duke. I hope there is no doubt you would for [nobody?] would shew such a want of proper consideration for those you are with as to make them wait or put them to any inconvenience. But my dear Posy is a sensible little fellow and usually avoids such negligence. So I hope all was right. We hear from Cadogan Place that you give great satisfaction and that your manner are much improved. We have been as usual here. On Sunday William Roscoe came down to us, and we had a quiet comfortable day. I live much in the room employed at my writing, getting on with my inner heart as well as I can. There are times when I feel more reconciled to the thought. Others when thought is as heavy and painful as ever. Still one does improve as time rolls on. I enclose a few lines to Mrs Morrison. Yours, my Posy, was a charming letter. Mine must be short, as I must get to my work, having not done one of my 25 daily pages yet. Ever your own tenderly affectionate Mother, dearest Posy
Anne Marsh.
File PB110015
From Emma Caldwell
Diary, December 16th, 1819.
Anne (Marsh) and her two blessed children came. Poor Eliza: it was hard to see Anne carrying in my little Johnny (Louisa) and the prettiest little baby (Fanny) in the world. Anne burst into a floor of talking, and we were all happy indeed together. The description of Madame de Stael’s profusion of ideas and conversation when she came home from any journey, put me in mind of my Anne. I find a great likeness in their characters. So our days passed on, talking with eager interest and running and playing with the children all day. My Anne made me happy beyond all words one night.
They stayed till February 12th 1819
File PB110017
AMC to Stamford.
23rd November 1854.
My dear Stamford.
I think you will like to see the Judge’s letter. (the Judge is Mr Douglas Neath, County Court Judge only, but as Charles Crompton I observe, always give him the title of “The Judge,” it is proper courtesy I suppose to do it.) Though Leopold’s promotion appears by this note not to be quite absolutely certain, yet I think there seems such good reason not to question it, that it will give you pleasure to have the earliest intelligence. Please let me have Douglas’s note back. I keep such things in my archives. So if the good news be true, nothing if he live can now prevent him being an Admiral. And the little girl you took such interest in, thinking her a little overlooked, bids fair for the top of the tree. There is one of Leopold’s circular journal letters forwarded to us this morning. He was commanding (Oct 3rd?) a body of marines defending the works at the back of Balaclava. Perilous work, with 30,000 Russians hard by. Their outposts only between 2 and 3 thousand yards off. They (the English, 6,000 strong only) were industriously fortifying their position and before the letter concludes he says, their ditch is so deep that they may now defy a night attack which was the principal danger. The French, he says, have asked to be entrusted with the attack upon Sabastapol, saying they understand such work better than the English.
Continues…?
File PB110019
Letter from AMC to Stamford, from Eastbury. Mentions death of Sir Hyde Parker 26 May 1854
22nd April [1855?]
Dearest Stamford,
I now sit down in peace and comfort to answer, [seriative?] your interesting letter. I am sure if you knew the pleasure these letters give me you would never regret the trouble of writing them. Nothing can be more interesting to me than to receive this confidence, which, rely upon it, shall never be abused. And first I must thank you again for the cheque, “and with words of such a sweet perfume as made the gift more rich.” Surely never was present more kindly intended or more friendly made.
Rose gives me a delightful account of her health. She says she feels as if she never knew before what it was to feel quite vigorous and well. And Fanny says she looks better than ever she did in her life. She makes herself very busy helping to teach Amy, who is beginning to play prettily and get on with French &c. And other “inflammatory branches of learning.” Rose’s enjoyment of the fine [sands?] and lovely skies and waters of Malta is extreme. Next for poor Sir Hyde, no certainly, he left nothing to us. Such an idea was not likely to enter into his head. He had far too many claimants near at hand. And I fear had hurt his fortune very much by Railway [speculations?] which have injured such numbers, his county railway, being the “Eastern Counties.” His being one among the worst of them. He had lost too in mining I believe. The estate went with Melford Hall to the present Sir William Parker, who had a common grandfather with our Sir Hyde, namely the old Admiral Sir Hyde Park, who took the Spanish Galleon, the Santissima Trinidada[?] and afterwards sailing to the Cape on some fresh expedition was lost with all his crew, nothing being ever heard of the vessel more. At Melford Hall there are some pieces of China of extraordinary value, which were part of the spoils of the Santissima Trinidad. And I remember one day going with Sir Hyde into a closet, where he kept his tea, about which he was very particular. I mean the tea, and it was quite full of curious and odd [mollers?] I suppose from the same source. I do not hear that he has left anything except to is sister Mrs Eyres and her children, who are all now grown men and women, with children, grown men and women many of them too. As you say, the secrecy people make about Wills seems ridiculous enough, when any one can read a Will for as shilling. But people rely upon nobody thinking it worth while to do it except for some special purpose. And I think one justly dislikes giving people the power more than one can help, to discuss ones affairs. Poor dear Sir Hyde! I think of him so much. And then it is natural to wish to know how a man one was interested in has disposed of his property. So I give you these particulars thinking it may interest you for the sake of one, so dear a friend of your friend and brother, and who I believe you like for his own sake. Poor dear Sir Hyde, many were his faults and those all the world can see, but he had a heart of gold, a fine intellect and the strongest and deepest affections. But his qualities were known only to those who understood him well. Those who did, but they were few, valued him most highly. I have felt much anxiety on his account, poor dear fellow. His state of mind was a subject of most serious feeling to me. After his illness he never came here again. Always saying he should come when he was better. I think I was the only person in the world that could have ventured to touch upon the awful important subject. He and Arthur and I, had talked so confidentially of these most intimate things, but I would not venture upon them by letter and latterly, poor man, he was so blind, that all correspondence passed through his manservant who read his letters to him and wrote the answer at his dictation so that he was in a manner cut off from us all. In spite of his impatient temper, one of his faults, I am told he bore his sufferings which were very great, water on the chest, disease of the kidneys and his blindness with undeviating patience. One would fair hope he drew this from the right source. I am assured that he never neglected private prayer and he went to Church, which things with a man like him would not, if done at all, be matters of form. I am sure if my prayers would have availed he had them, I feel it an additional blank now they are both gone. So many happy happy hours as we three have spent together but you will be [learned?] of the subject. I will go to the next. I am sure nothing could be further from Louisa’s intention than to compare Kitlands and Linley Wood to the disparagement of dear Linley Wood. In fact the places are so different that there is no comparison to make between them. The Heaths think no place no earth to be compared to Kitlands, but we prefer Linley Wood a thousand times. Those views of the woods! However, one is glad little Arthur stands a good chance of having so pretty a place added to his fathers portion of the old Serjeants estate, which is, Leo I mean, I believe the largest of the three into which he, the Serjeant, divided it. Kitlands is entailed upon Leo’s son, in case Douglas leaves no heir and he is not likely to marry. He says so. And he looks so XXXXX
I am so sorry to find by your letter, that the subject of your own dispositions still plagues you so much, but I can quite enter into your feelings. It is a very serious anxiety to a conscientious man. In every circumstance, where there is, as in yours, perfect unfettered free will to be exercised. I thought when we left you, though in total ignorance of what you had settled in your own mind, that you had fixed your plan. But that seems not to be quite the case. When I spoke of diffusion I guarded myself, by saying “as far as consistent with one object.” By which I meant the keeping the estate together, which is natural, reading from your letter, after what passed you should consider a sacred duty to him, as well as a very [page 4] natural desire of your own to do. I thought from what you said you intended to select one as to succeed you from among those nearest to you. And in case of that individual dying without heirs, yourself to entail the estate upon the one among the little children that you wished to enjoy it. I do not see why you should not do that to any extent. Failing one, to name a successor and so on. I believe this is the commonest thing in the world. And done every day. But if I may venture to suggest one thing, It struck me many years ago, when you were talking upon this subject, as if you had almost a morbid anxiety about the way the estate might be treated by a successor. I think such anxieties are, perhaps, more natural than sound. When we have left the world and can no longer shape our path to circumstances, it is perhaps not well to endeavour too much to direct it. One must have faith in the honour and good sense of those whom one has selected to succeed us. And I think it wise to leave them at as much liberty as is compatible with an entail. I should never trouble my head if I were you, with guardians of the estate, restrictions or so on. One never knows in this worlds changes, and in this worlds bothers of law questions, what injury one may be doing through a too anxious endeavour to do best. I likewise thought, and still think, that the estate is amply sufficient and much more to be a most valuable inheritance as it stands, for any one and quite enough to render the condition of taking the name, a perfectly reasonable one. I perhaps mistook you but I thought you felt anxious lest the estate should not be sufficient to keep itself up. To me, who am accustomed to make a small income do so much, it appeared to me as if there was abundance for that purpose in the land itself. And therefore certainly, as I said, if I were charged with the dispersing of a talent like that which is laid upon you, I should, after that one object was reasonably provided for, think much of the greater, the almost infinite good I might be the author of through diffusion. But I only speak my own feelings upon the subject. As I said before, God, for his wise purposes, gives to equally honest minds such different (page 5) views of these things. I do, indeed, rejoice at the tolerable account you are able to give me of your own health. I believe the composure with which you submit to the lesser, and the fortitude with which you bear the heavier evils of uncertain health mainly contributes to the keeping you as well as with your constitution it is reasonable to expect. But I have the happiness to know that you rest upon the only true rock, alas! Poor dear Sir Hyde had no mother like ours to sew that good seed early in his breast. Which is the nourishment and consolation of advancing years. Though I have heard him say, too, that he owed everything to his mother, but it could not have been a mother like ours. This subject I am sure you will feel is in strict confidence between us. I think of you often and good grateful sense of the divine mercies and your paternal acquiescence in his will. And it is a great happiness to me. Poor dear Frank Holland, it was impossible not to smile. You hit of his character so well. We see however, scarcely anything of him now. I could make you laugh if it were quite fair at some of his love proceedings. [words scribbled out] I scratch that bit out as, perhaps, not quite fair. The Archdeacon Lyal is the one who married the second Miss Brandreth. He was chaplain to St.Thomas’s hospital when they married. And I used to go and see her in the Hospital. He has made his way in the world as everything I believe connected with Brandreth does. Frank’s wife is his niece and one of a large family of children. Not mothered by at Brandreth. And not very thriving I believe. She seems a sensible girl herself. I have not the other vol. of the Scotch songs. I had only one and I gave it to you, thinking your love for such things made you best worthy to possess it. I don’t know where the vol. you mention went to. Is not the lovely song you speak of Allan Ramsays. If so you have his poems in your library.
Here is a volume indeed. But I have such pleasure in writing our my heart to you. Alas! All else are gone to whom I could write or speak so openly. I hope I have not tired you to death. And my hand shakes today and the pens won’t write and they ought. Forgive all mistakes or imperfections of expression.
Every your dear Stamfords loving sister, A.M.
File PB110029
12th August 1858
From Deacons.
My dearest Stamford,
I feel rather shy of writing to you for I never can feel sure whether you think your poor Anne’s letters worth reading or not. And yet I think I remember your once sending me word that, notwithstanding your younger and more lively correspondents you liked at times to hear from me. And it is a pleasure to me. It is so great a pleasure to have even this communication, with the last of our house. The last of that family which is one’s own. And which nothing else can ever be like to me. I think often and often of you sitting at luncheon or at dinner chatting so pleasantly away. Or of those pleasant evenings when your talk was so well worth hearing. Rose says, and I think with some truth that men in their generation seem not to have their minds enriched and cultivated as it was in yours. And I think there is a good deal of truth in this. In some respects the generation which now holds the world greatly exceeds our which is now loosing hold of it (have I spelt the word right or ought it be loosing). But I think we cultivated our minds more than they have done. Were better arguments with the great masters of the world. How you loved your Horace. How often I have heard you speak of him with enthusiasm. How my father’s evening reading made us love Shakespeare and Milton. And Homer and Virgil through Pope [Posse?] and Pill only it is true but we knew them. This remark was suggested to R by Lord Abinger shewing us his pines and point out one, the Pinus Laracina I think it was, as the one under which Achilles used to sit and watch his horses feeding. I don’t know where this was from. But is shows R as an elegance of allusion which she should not find among the men of her line. (Page 2) Now I see you laughing both at her and me, for being so easily pleased. I think we shall have a pleasant neighbourhood here. The Wedgwoods are a great pleasure. Jos is much aged but has still his sweet intelligent smile and gentle manners. He has got a very pretty property, upon the slope of Leith Hill. I should imagine 3 or 4 hundred acres, and as this county is all redeemed from the forest or the woods he has a good deal of copse wood and some very fine trees about the house. On Tuesday Mr Justice and Lady Williams walked over from Fanhurst[?], their place, to call upon us. She was a Bagot I believe. I don’t know whether you know her. She is a charming person, has been very handsome and was I understand, the gayest of the gay. But the loss of her three daughters she had has quite driven all that away. It half broke her heart, but though glum, she is still charming. He is of a blunter and less polished appearance but proves to be very pleasant. He startled me by enquiring after you. And then went on to speak of you as a very old and valued friend. Enquired whether you lived entirely at your place Linley Wood and all sorts of particulars about your health &c. I told him you were a sad hermit, and so fond of your place there was no getting you away from it. But that you had many neighbours to whom you were much attached, and especially happy in the view of your [large passed?] who was a Wilbraham and a man you greatly esteemed. Lady Williams then put in to say she knew the Wilbrahams well, and spoke most highly of them. Frank by the by has married a Miss [Bernard?] a young lady with whom through Sir William Reid’s family, we make acquaintance when we were at Richmond last November. Sir W. Reid was Governor of Malta when Georgy was there. And she formed a great friendship with his daughters, very nice girls. (Page 3) To return to Mr Justice Williams, he begged me particularly to send his kindest remembrances to you when I wrote. Which I assured him I would and added that I was sure it would give you much pleasure to hear of him. Caroline Gifford once, now Caroline Sapte is within four miles of us. Her husband being Rector of Cranley. This is a good pleasure to the girls and throws them in to close communication through the Saptes with their old friends again. Now for Leo and his wife. I had a most pleasant visit there. They have let their house at Moorhurst and have taken Forest Lodge, a very pretty place of about 30 acres close upon Sharpton Water and commanding from the gardens a view of the beautiful Arrogant. Reckoned one of the most beautiful frigates in the Navy. And to which Leo used to signal from the flat staff he had erected in his garden. He has five revenue callers and a gunboat with two big guns upon it under his command, besides his beloved Arrogant. He was so kind and affectionate and they exerted themselves in every way to amuse and make me happy. I enjoyed the boating and sailing excessively. One day we sailed in one of his Cutters to Spithead to call upon Lord Lyons. He had, however, lowered his flag and gone ashore, so Mary and I sailed round his Royal Albert and saw the Renown and the Caesar, 120 – 191 – 191 Roay, A, a three decker, the others 2 deckers, which Leo went on board the Diadem frigate to call upon Captain Morrison. There were two other frigates, the [Nacon, Racon?] and the [Ewayalal?] A find day, a blue sky and deep blue sea. The opposite shore of the Isle of Wight, Cowes and Ryde. The distant Hampshire hills, a soft breeze, just rippling the water. It was delicious. Leo came back with his hands full of pamphlets upon manning the Navy. The great topic as you may be sure among the Naval men about there. Everyone has his recipe, Leo his among the rest. His is, a good swapping bounty. When you want to man your ships, which saves the expense of keeping a number of men in pay when you don’t want them. And he will answer for it will (page 4) bring as many as they want in no time. These merchant sailors are not capable of manning the guns till a few months practice but Leo says with two thirds experienced sailors he could do very well with one third novices. I dare say Louisa has told you that she met Lord Lyons at Government House. And how kindly he spoke of our loved Martin. Another day we had a fete on board the Arrogant, given by the Captain and officers of the ship to about 120 ladies and gentlemen. The ship dressed out with flags, the main deck separated by a wall into two parts. One side for dancing, the other for two immensely long tables covered with the ‘delicacies of the season.” Leo presiding at one, his first Lieutenant, Mr Smith, at the other. After dinner the sailors danced hornpipes and then sang songs with choruses, one in celebration of Nelson, “who died for England’s fame,” another of Miss Nightingale, “who thought a poor soldier had a soul to be saved,” and which ended with, “ so lets honour women and never against them sail.” “And they will all prove a comfort like Miss Nightingale.” Rather indulging in [pochene-luierse?] this last, I fear. The song was evidently the composition of some rude nautical muse. I heard a gentleman behind me say, “This is true fame,” and I agreed with him. The day before I returned home my dear Adelaide [1828-1859] came to Southampton on her way to the sea, stopping at Radletts Hotel, the great one for travelers at Southampton. I thought her looking not so well as when she left us after her three weeks visit at Deacons, which did her, I believe, much good. Mary was shocked to see her so thin, and her cough so bad. But Henry sent me yesterday a much better account of her. They were disappointed at getting lodgings in Swanage, so went to the Isle of Wight, where they still are. But I am not satisfied about her, and intend to go down to join them next week and stay two or three days, to judge how she is really going on. And now my dear kind Stamford I must thank you, which I do from my heart for your generous kindness to these two dear households. It is such a relief to my pretty Ady. To feel that your generous thought diminishes some of the pressure her state of health occasions. As for that excellent Richard whom I cannot approve or esteem too much, as I am sure you would say, …[another page?]
[Top of page one] No doubt they have apprised you of Harry’s engagement. Nothing could be better. Margaret Trevallyan is everything one could wish.
File PB110037
From Eastbury
9th August 1857
My dearest Stamford,
I am obliged to start at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning upon an expedition of business. And therefore I must break my rule of not writing letters upon Sunday, because I cannot let a post pass without thanking you warmly for the most sweet and generous letter of yours received this morning. I hope dearest Stamford you are very very kind, at this moment to come among us with such a large and generous proof of your affection. My sweetest Ady and Henry Loring will feel it and be gratified by it very, very, much and it will be a great additional pleasure to my dear girl to know how very kindly you interest yourself in her comfort and recovery. I shall write to them today. For myself, dear Stamford, I will not attempt to thank you as I wish, I am bad at thanks. But I [missed?] your sweet letter with tears, it is so dear. [a thought?] to me alone as I am except you, in my generation that you think of me and my anxieties for these dear ones. In your quiet dining room at dear Linley Wood. And that I have one true friend who feels for us, and loves us, yet left. Our last accounts of Adelaide were better in some respects and not so good in others. Leo had taken her out in his boat upon the Southampton water, and the little excursion seemed to have done good. She enjoyed it much. And her harassing cough had been much better since. But then the night sweats which we thought we had again had returned. But perhaps this might be owing to the extreme heat of the weather. As Mary could not venture to let her sleep with her window open, and I am grieved to say the pain in the side was much worse again. Sir Henry is out of town for a few days but I am to go up on Sunday morning when he will be returned, and report these changes. You know how kind he is in cases of serious sickness, and nothing can be more king, or I think more judicious than his advice has been. It will be a pleasure to him to hear of your tender providing for Ady’s extra comforts and luxuries. In such a case as this I know, he thinks more of these means than of all the medicine in the world. And your abundant supply, will enable Henry and Georgy, who I hope will go to nurse Ady at the sea, to listen to no remonstrances upon her part. But yet her everything in every way that can nourish, or rest or strengthen. In these small incomes only experience can tell the rest it is to the spirit, to be set free as such a moment from all considerations of the purse. And your present will do more than you can perhaps form and idea of towards helping us on our way (page 3)
File PB110043
From Deacons
Near Dorking
18th June 1858
My dearest Stamford,
I have been long wishing to answer your silence, by a chatty letter such as I think you like. But I have been really very ill with a low fewer, from inspecting with some workmen a bad drain, being alas! Master as well as Mistress and the matter being too important to be health of my little party here to be left without supervision to workmen and servants. Well, it took a [furrie?] form of gathering round the outside of my throat, had it not luckily come outside owing, I believe, to my applying the new method of a wet cambrick cover with oilskin for the sore throat. I felt directly after smelling the drain, it might have been a serious affair. My medical man told Fanny I had had a good escape of a very bad illness. The fever as it was held me three weeks during which I could do nothing. And I have got well slowly under [Bark and vitriol?] The gatherings still coming from home to home to shew the poison has not quite exterminated itself[?]. Clara who you may remember, who was with us at our last happy happy visit to the dear old Linley Wood, and who you pleased my by thinking such a nice servant, had her work room near the place and before we were the least aware of the evil, her throat was covered with emissions and she felt very poorly saying “don’t care what become of me.” The rest thank God with due precaution have all escaped. This is such a little cabin that we can scarcely squeeze into it so it is necessary to make a few additions during which the drainage will be made as it ought to be. In other respects it seems a very healthy little place and commands a view which I can only compare to yours, for we have the Weald of Saper in place of your plain of Cheshire. And the South Downs in place of your [Scotfactors?] but there the comparison fails. No lovely tiers of Welsh Hills rising one behind another. No Swallowmore and no Prospect Bank. But a nice range of healthy hills to the North which shelter us from the wind and extend upon one side to Leith Hill. And the slope of which is Jos Wedgwood’s house as the crow flies about a couple of miles. By the only access road about 5 miles off. You may guess what a comfort it is to me thus to be by the chances of life thrown so near, two such long valued friends as Jos and Caroline. About two miles further of is Captain Heath’s Moorhurst, but he and Mary will be so little there that we shall not, I fear, be much the better for that. This place of ours is the most unadmired[?] little possession you ever saw. Only a few shrubberies and a mite of a kitchen garden, a stable built of plank and not even a pig stye or cowshed or a bit of wall to plant an apricot tree against. Rather a change from dear Eastbury with all its nice provisions of this sort but it is astonishing how soon with fresh air and a fine view one gets reconciled to other deficiencies. Enough of this. Adelaide has been staying with us three weeks, occupying Louisa’s room who, as you already know, is at Devonport. She left us this day week, returning home by London to see Dr Watson. As Henry wished to have a quite new opinion. So it was arranged with Sir Henry that Dr Watson should see her first alone, and then Sir Henry and he have a consultation upon the case and Henry was to go up last Monday to meet them. The Post between us and Cobham is so tedious that it was not till yesterday that I got the report too [like?] to write, so I waited to write to you till today knowing how much you would wish to hear it. Dr Watson examined her most carefully with the stethoscope. His opinion coincides with that of Sir Henry, and Mr Webber her medicine man at Cobham. The lungs are not in the least affected (I believe we Caldwells are freer from consumption than almost any family in the world) The pain in her side and cough arise from irritation or probably a slight latent inflammation to the Pleura, symptoms it is very difficult to get rid of after a severe attack of . The weakness is the consequence of these ailments. Still very weak she is, and the cough and pain at the side most distressing. But one cannot be too grateful that the fearful consumption is at present not there. She seemed much better for being here. The petting, the impossibility of exerting herself, and the change of air, certainly did good. But you would be shocked as I was to see her slowly and feebly climbing even the short stairs of this small house. And to hear that horrid cough morning and evening, and see her under an attack of pain in the side.
Continues?...
File PB110047
Part of letter AMC to Stamford mid 1850s
Needs to be sorted
Page 4 – He [Richard Crofton], such a father, a rare thing in a young man and an officer and a very clever, good one too, with the patient perseverance of the best mother, teaching his children very morning, leading through that tedious teaching, writing and accounts and such like. Happy, happy couple they are, and he seems fonder of Fanny and is, than even on his wedding day, but well may he. I was reading Solomon’s description of the women whose price is above Rubies, “it might have been written for my admirable, indefatigable Fanny. Saturday last Rose and I, Georgy being gone to visit Mary, went across country to take leave of Colonel and Mrs Crofton who, on his promotion (though it is not exactly that, only head of forces) in Alderney. That lays inland eleven miles road and trees, one lady and several officers are its attractions. But they will have a good house and a large garden and provided they are together care not where it is. His promotion adds very little to his pay and at the expiration of 3 years when I hope it will be rather better but frugal or not in other [mess?] it is certain we are most frugal in paying officers in the Army. In the Navy too, upon going to a new place Government furnishes them with furniture out of their own stores. They, paying 10 per rent for the use of it. This is an immense convenience and [aby cannot?] they entered it to the Army. Richard has to bring everything, even to a chair and table with him. And the expense of either moving, or setting as he did at Malta, and buying again is great, and it is difficult to say what is best. Such a pity! That when they could [mark in paper] without the least loss Government is not as thoughtful for its Army or its Navy. The post bag is come, and I must give over, and you will never have patience to read my long yarn. How are you, but what is the use of asking. You are grown too unprincipally idle, never to give us one line, literally three lines to say I am well and though silent love and care for you all would be gratefully received. Silence total, is like total darkness. Awful.
Rosa’s dear love and ever your affectionate sister,
Anne M.
File PB110049
AMC to Stamford
Moorhurst
5th July. [1856]
My dear Stamford,
I have been hoping to have in course of time another of your interesting letters but as one is not yet [answered?] I think I will volunteer a few lines from this place where I am paying my first visit to Mary, and likewise I think you will be interested to hear of the Crofton children. The[y] arrived quite safely, and had a prosperous passage though the care of them on ship board had taken something from the blooming looks that Rose had acquired at Malta. However, Fanny had been fortunate in procuring a very nice [attentive, station?] nurse, so that the fatigue and anxiety were much diminished. Still it is nervous work to have the care of other people’s children. And the keeping them in the life on deck from being troublesome and in the officer’s way, full of high spirits as they were was no slight concern. The ship was filled with troops, the horses having the grand saloon for their share. There were several officers on board among whom Mrs Douglas Stewart (she is Sir Houston’s S’s daughter in law, the Admiral at Malta) made shift to select a very agreeable coterie. They being the only ladies on board. Mrs Stewart had a saloon to herself which Posy shared, and out of it were four little cabins with berths, for themselves and their children. Nothing could be more comfortable. It was the tears coming into poor Fanny’s eyes in her anxiety to get her baby boy off before the heat began which he was too delicate to bear, which moved Admiral Stopford’s kind heart and he gave her a passage with Mrs Stewart. The children being those of an officer was a great advantage. The little Babe who is the prime mover in this migration, is a very delicate child, but he already flourishes in English air and I hope we shall send him back running about as actively as his little cousins of the same age do. He cannot yet walk, but in every other respect is formed and seems very clever and intelligent. Amy had had one or two attacks of dysentery. The great terror of the climate so Fanny was obliged to send her out of the way of the three hot months and Duke, the dear good mother sent because she thought he would be so unhappy alone and moreover that it would be of great service to him. But when there were about to part though Duke had been talking for weeks of this coming to England he come out “If you wish me (page2 ) to stay Mama, never mind strong or prickly heat, only say you want me to stay and I will stay.” Prickly heat during hot weather, a sort of irritating [owisnphon?] on the skin, being the [fatigue?] of his life. He is a fine handsome, active, clever boy, requires a little of Grand-Mama’s quieting, but is of a most docile and generous temper. A very fine boy of five years old as one would wish to see. Amy is a charming little girl, so gentle, so nice, so sprightly. So thoroughly the [Hg?] a little embryo woman ought to be. She will have a handsome [gypsy, gifrsy?] face, splendid hair and a [Certfully?] made figure. Such hands and arms and feet! In short I am excessively well pleased with this first specimen of what these little ones of ours are likely to be when they grow out of babyhood. And Duke is thoroughly well accomplished to lead the Van.
I am now at Moorhurst as you will see. Sitting at my best room casement window in this pretty picturesque seven gabled cottage, all covered over with roses and creepers. The rooms very low and not very roomy, but Mary is as happy as a Queen. And a true sailor’s wife, thinks them quite lofty enough, which to be sure they are, in comparison with her husband’s cabin. There is a pretty flower garden and a sort of little flat bowling green in the middle, commanding splendid views over Surrey and boarded by the Brighton Hills. None of your Welsh mountains but people must not pretend to an horizon like yours. But a plain of some rich [changing?] is spread before you. Leo has a nice estate lying round him. But you are the largest landed proprietor of the whole clan by a considerable number of acres. Kitlands is a beautiful place backed by Sandhills covered with copses and wood. But the house, which is an old one added to and run out this way and that, stands too much in a hole to quite please me. However, when the two properties are united in Arthur (the little fellow now running about by Mary’s side) as there is every probability they will be, it will be a very pretty estate. Leo is gone to the Crimea in his ‘Sea Horse’ to fetch troops. So I have come to pass a little of Mary widowhood with her. In October I come again to be with her by Leo’s great desire, when we expect her to present us with another little being. I don’t know what you may have heard of all this home gossip [file PB110054] from one girl or another but you will, I know [exerze?] a Grandams, be a visione repetitious. You know it is the privilege of that reverend relationship to be garrulous.
I must not forget Adelaide and her two noble boys, little Johnnie Loring the handsome and finest of little men rising three. As brave as a little lion and as docile as a little dove. With his “yes please” upon all occasions and his “no ta,” such a little darling [scurrying?] about with his bigger cousins, his golden hair flying back from his honest face. He running about shouting and screaming for joy. The little Loring, the 2nd we flatter ourselves is like dear Arthur. You will guess how precious this resemblance, real or fancied is to us. I shall be so glad when the inclination takes you to give me a few lines. How are you? Enjoying this divine weather thoroughly? And getting in your hay to perfection? As I have done. I have let my house for three months from August 1st, which is a plan I intend to pursue annually for financial reasons. We shall go to the cheapest place we can, for the time to save our pence. Have you been so kind as to enter Evelyn Marton into your book club. Orders of this description help me on. I must go on working at the pen for the present. Ever your sister, A.M.
End of Part 1
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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