Michael D.Heath-Caldwell M.Arch.

File PB120064

Letter to Martin from Louisa at Eastbury just after Posy back from Tenby.

Tuesday 4^th. [Pre 1846]

Date needs sorting

My dearest Martin,

I think it is now my turn to give you some news of what goes on at home as all the others have given their version and it is so much pleasure to us all to do anything that gives our good brother any amusement, dear fellow. In the first place Posy returned as Mama will have told you at 1/5 5 on Sunday morning and just as nice and her old self as ever but grown a terrible little radical, but not a bit blue in the bad sense of the word. She seems to have enjoyed her ball at Tenby very much and Miss Allen wrote Mama word was the belle of the room. We have been practicing hard the Mazurka step as Posy remembers how they were teaching it in Brook Street a few years ago and the Creeds told Georgy that it was the same so at all events if we are not quite right we are so far on the road and can safely trim it up a little afterwards when we get an authority we can depend upon. The step we use goes beautifully with Adelaides’ Mazurkas that Madame [Daiz, Daig?] sent her. For I should forget I will now tell you that Papa says he will get you a [Queen?] in London which will be sent down with the other books on Friday and also I think I had better send you at least two of your sheets [which?] are safely arrived in William Street. The Fitzgeralds depart for good tomorrow so there is an end of that chapter and now we enter upon the Yorkes with a little happy Interregnum of the Pells who it is reported are coming to Pinner Hill for a short time to set things to right prior to their final departure. Mrs Fitzgerald says that Mr [Yorke Tooke?] has let all the land except a field at the back of the house to Mr Lipscombe at 29/s an [annum? All week?]. Papa heard 25/s which is good news for us, you know, as our land is much better than the Pells and yet Papa only valued it at 20s/-. Mr Tooke means to keep all his family in milk from the cow which does not speak much for his knowledge in country matters, does it? What a horrid gossiping letter you will think this chere frère, but what am I to assail you with but anecdotes and alas! for human nature what so entertaining as ill natured anecdotes. By the bye, dear Sir, how immensely impertinent you are about my attempts at study, as if I could not be blue if I were to try. Do you think me such a very great goose. Oh, indeed, Tip behaves shamefully, what do you think of his ensconcing himself “just rises all rosy from his bath,” and disappears too, in the great arm chairs of Aunt G’s where he was only discovered by ogre I. But really dear M, you don’t know how my affection increases for him when you are gone. I am sure, on an average, I give him three pats on his head a day, and call him “dear dog,” at least twice that number of times. He is a dear dog in spite of his crimes about carpets and chairs. The farm goes on most neatly and the little pigs look most comfortable but they wont grow. The cold weather is supposed the cause. Now good bye dearest boy and with much love,

Believe me always your most attached,

Louisa M.

PB120066

Letter from AMC to Stamford followed by another longer one the following day.

Eastbury,

21^st April [1854]

My dearest Stamford,

I have been obliged to be out in the wood all morning and shall not have time to answer your nice conversation letter before post today, so I shall put that off till tomorrow when I shall have time, but I will not let this post go without thanking you warmly for the cheque. And for the feeling and consideration for dear Rose. In making her the medium of your liberality. I fell it very much indeed. I shall transmit your present by the next Marseilles(via) Post. But perhaps she may be gone to Constantinople, so that it will be longer than ordinary before she can return you her thanks for it. She will feel all the kindness of the idea thoroughly. You little know the pleasure and comfort your conversational letters give me. It seems as if I were talking with you. I feel more than ever lonely now poor dear Sir Hyde is gone. You are the last left of those near and dear to me of our standing. It draws one very close. I will write a full conversation answer to your letter tomorrow. Today it is too late. Ever your affectionate sister, A.M.

File PB120068

Letter AMC to Stamford. April 1854

My dearest Stamford,

It is ages since I have written to you, and all from a certain feeling of doubt whether you like to have a letter from me or not. But before this year runs on any further I feel that I must give you few lines to remind you that your poor Anne exists. And to wish you many happy new years. As I most sincerely do. The passage of every year robs one of so many that one feels, at least I do, drawn closer and closer to those few childhood friends that remain. And to you most of all, dear brother. If one could but have a line from you, a mere line would do, to tell us how you are and that you love us still. Poor Sir Hyde, what a sad suffering departure was his, quite blind, except a little glimmering of light, and his chest so oppressed, he was obliged to lean forwards resting upon his hands. Dear Sarah Wedgwood fell down and broke her thigh at the hip joint. And it was impossible at her age (past eighty) to set it again. She wished to die. Though she was patient to live, in her the world has lost a very valuable person. To the very last she was as earnest as ever in the promotion of every benevolent object. Some way I cannot help feeling a certain jealousy lest those who have the world in their hands now, must good as they unquestionably do, may be less alive to the importance of the great questions which concern the welfare of the Race than those strong noble spirits such as Sarah W Wilberforce [continues…]

Part of another letter –AMC to Stamford? 1842? 1836 – Death of Lady Charlotte Osborne who married ? 1850 for death of Viscount De La Warr. Edens, Fitzgeralds, Lane-Foxes and Viscount Cantelupes all related.

Dates needs sorting

[page 2 file PB120070] land of the Life Guards who came down in an omnibus and [fone?] from town. Two or three of them are Fitzgeralds and Lord Edward, whom I have heard play at the Edens certainly does so most beautifully on the violoncello which his instrument, they say it was most amusing to see them going on exactly like a real paid band trundling in after their own private supper, chattering and tuning their instruments without taking the slightest part in the rest of the company exactly like their, worsers[?], one of the great [belles?] of the evening was Mrs [Parkin?], the wife of the Author of ‘Modern [Modest?] Act” and the “Seven Lamps of Architecture” if you know those books as you no doubt do as they have made some noise. He is a man of fortune and married this girl for her beauty which is extreme, but is now completely devoted to his own pursuits and allows her to go her own way by herself while he goes his giving her none of his company or seeming to care the least for her society, which everyone says is very wrong as, she is so very pretty, so much admired and not over wise or clever. How shocking the death of Miss Lane-Fox is, the Duchess of Leeds, Miss Lane-Fox [1836 aged 44?]. She was taken ill with scarlet fever, but up to two hours before her death was thought to be going on as well as possible. Her death will be as great a shock to the gay young ladies of society as was Lord Cantelupe’s last year to the young men. I should think Emily Buxton has arrived safely at Rome where she will now remain stationary for some time now I suppose. I am now going to give you two epigrams. [‘the first upon Bacon’ crossed out] made by one of the rising generation [continues?]…

File PB120072

Dates needs sorting

Page 2 of letter from AMC at Eastbury to Stamford? End of 1856 when Arthur Loring 1 ½ years old. Could be 1858

[continues..] healthy hearty little fellow you ever saw in your life. As brave as a little lion yet as docile as a little lamb, and his care and generosity to his younger brother is quite charming to see. Little Arthur is but a year and a half, but more like a child of two years, will be very handsome, and is an odd original clever child. I call him the little philosopher. He has such a grave, thoughtful, observing way, seldom laughs, but has a sweet smile. Not like my uproarious Johnny, who laughs himself and keeps Louisa and me perpetually laughing. Certainly so far these little boys do Henry and Adelaide great credit. They take care nothing pains with them, but so judiciously that the children have quite escaped the little faults which are apt to attend children very much loved and cared for. If they belonged to a gypsy under a hedge they could not be more perfectly natural and simple. Ady did not make a very good recovery and in her anxiety to get about among her family and children exerted herself too soon, and had an attack so very near Pleurisy. That, though she escaped that, it was so near a thing that it sent her to her bed where she is still except for a few hours every day. She is excessively weak and poorly still. I sent Rose over to nurse her on last Thursday and the first measure she took was to dispatch the two little boys and their nurse to me, and thus relieve my Ady of the noise one cannot altogether prevent, and all anxiety about them. As I believe she thinks them as safe in all respects with us here, as if she were about with them herself. R [Posy MC] thinks she began to mend as soon as her two little men were fairly off. As soon as she is able to travel I hope to have her in this delicious air and roomy house, and get her quite stout again, before I let her resume her household cares again. Louisa and I in the meantime are much enlivened by our little guests. Speaking of Louisa, never was a greater mistake than you made, dear Stamford, in thinking that she was getting a little tired of her periodical letters. Far from it. It is and has been a great pleasure to her to write to you. And I believe it is quite true that there is an interest in a correspondence carried on by writing at fixed times, which the more flying ones never have [continues?]

File PB120074

Part of letter, Louisa? to Stamford? Journal?

Date needs sorting part of letter

3.

[continues…] Town one should not the least mind inhabiting a set of apartments in them oneself. They all open on a sort of piazza which serves as a most delightful and safe play ground for the children in wet weather, having an open court besides for [my dry?] in every suite of rooms there is a scullery to which there is water laid on and a trap through which all their cinders and rubbish are thrown down without further trouble. The rooms are, of course, furnished by the lodgers and the suite of apartments range from three to four rooms and the rents from three to five shillings a week. The people all invariable expressed themselves as content and having received a [guit toom?] in being able to have such accommodation for the price. We went through a street out of which ran some alleys where these people formerly some of them lived and the exchange must indeed be one from which not only a state of comfort formerly utterly impossible must arise but in which all the moralitys of our nature have at least some chance where before one feels it next to impossible that they should exist. My mother, the day before, went over some other model lodging houses in Panesas [Paneras?, Pancras?] Rd with Dr [Southwood?] Smith (These were in Streatham Street near [Menxs henery?]) and was then introduced to Mr Rankinson, the engineer to the Board of Works and who has lately built the new great hall in Liverpool which contains an arch which is considered quite an engineering marvel. When introduced to him, I thought he was a man of the North Country with something very charming, open, frank and remarkably intelligent and benevolent in his countenance. A man of the manufacturing order and who had perhaps had not exactly what is called a liberal education but had been to some commercial school. It turned out that this man is one of those persons whose rise and success in life is one of England’s greatest boasts. [continues?]…

File PB120076

Letter AMC or Louisa – part of letter only.

Page 2

[continues] the way Miss W asked Adie if she would join her if she sang a hymn at the funeral, which Adie said of course she was obliged to say she would and Miss W intoned one or two with perfect sang froid in a quaver in her voice. There was a discourse or two of admonition &c to the assembled. Adie seemed quite disgusted with the whole affair and as for [Jim, Gem?] they say he is furious at having been obliged to go to it. So like him! He quite forgot to put on a black coat and had his usual blue one on! Mrs [Indon?] “Fanny Paget” was lunching also at Lady D’s yesterday. Such a mad wild creature, but very amusing and she made one laugh when she knows one ought not, as she was too reckless in what she said. Mrs Chetwynd called again yesterday, the 3^rd time she has done so and has asked me to dinner tonight. Oh Tuesday Edie [Erie Eden?] and I called on Lady Baker who made many enquiries after you. She is full of her cooking and has already heaps of applications from pupils to enter the school. She said [Erie?] had been 3 hours looking over the Duchess of Edinburgh things to see if she could make anything of them. She certainly does have very ugly bonnets &c. Evidently she is not to be the fashion with the fast set, whom Lady B a little represented. She is thought solemn &c but people say she is sensible and has … [continues?]

File PB120078

Part of letter. AMC or Louisa handwriting? Letter ripped from other page?

Letter needs sorting

[continues] most strangely approved of his engagement. Captain Money gave the same curious accounts of the state of religion in India and the close affinity in some respects between the Hindu or rather Brahmanical early history and the Patriarchal account given by Moses. In some points identical. Christianity does not make the progress it might in India owing to the low class of men from which the Missionaries are generally drawn, the Hindus among themselves are scrupulous in all matters of politeness and manners, and the course tone and bearing of many of our men, as well as their paucity of learning and little power of reckoning disgusts the elegant oriental and prevents all chance of success. There are very few men who are equal to the task who go out as Missionaries at present, though it is hoped that the class may improve and in the meanwhile the best [continues?]

File PB120080

Letter from Leopold Heath to AMC.

Forest Lodge

21^st August 1858[?]

My dear mother,

Of course I never read Mary’s letters. I mean those which are addressed to her. Oh no never, but still I have somehow heard that you are disappointed at not having been told all about Cherbourg, or rather as much about it as I have to say, and so before the subject gets quite stale and worn out I will give you an account of the impressions left on my mind by my visit. My voyage was made on board the Renown whose Captain (Forbes) is an old friend of mine. He had also as guests his own brother Colonel Forbes and a retired Admiral Crosier, both very pleasant fellows. Our passage was a fine one and we reached Cape la Hague several hours before the Queen did, she passed through our two lines and accommodating the speed of the yacht to the slower movement of her line of Battle Ships led us in very pretty style into Cherbourg where every preparation had been made by laying down moorings &c for us. I hardly like repeating so late in the day what every body has read in the newspapers how the Emperor and Empress went off at a [once, mn?] to visit Her Majesty and how loud and how expressive the salutes were too, but I will try and confine myself to anecdotes which I have not seen in print and to my professional impressions. There was one delicate attention paid to Louis Napoleon which has not been published. The Hon. Major Fitzmaurice has a patent light, very strong and intense, he with his apparatus was a passenger on board the Frigate Diadem and by means of a reflector, moveable on jumbles behind his light, he so managed as to keep L.N’s barge in the focus of the reflector and thus to light him all the way to shore. The next night displays of fireworks were [page 2] very beautiful. The French gave a display which I took to be a representation of a battle fought by the central fort on the breakwater. It began with single rockets fired indiscriminately without any apparent plan. This was the firing of its guns in defence, then came a red light with volumes of smoke and occasional explosions. This no doubt meant the fort on fire and then came on the finale, its blowing up represented by a circumventing volley of rockets with a great eruption of [peaks, flares?] of fire, but the prettiest thing done in the fire work line was by our own Royal Yacht. When the Emperor, who had gallantly seen his guest safe to her home after dining with him in the Bretagne, left the Victoria and Albert there suddenly appeared an even and unbroken line of lights along the whole of her length, one third of the line was red, one third white, and the other third blue. It was an unmistakable French Ensign, and when these lights were put out (which was done quite suddenly) there was an instantaneous volley of the most beautiful red, white, blue rockets I ever saw. Captain Forbes was a guest at the dinner on board the Bretagne, he reported it a bad specimen of French cookery and it would appear that the Emperor had not originally intended to provide for so many guests, for although gold plate abounded at the centre of the table, it became mixed with silver as you got half way down towards the ends of the table, and pure silver, if not electrolyte at the ends themselves. Forbes said he saw a painted dinner plate before the guest who sat two above him, he himself had one tolerably pretty in pattern whilst 2 below him again he saw something very like common ware. The French mismanaged the entrée to the dockyard on the first day most egregiously for whilst those who having landed at and examined the town worked their way up to the Dockyard and found themselves whatever their rank refused admission. Those who by accident landed at the dockyard to being with were allowed to wander all over it at their own sweet will. I was of these latter. I went in uniform and discarding such paltry adornments as Order of the Bath &c I came out with the decoration of the Legion of Honour, that simple, and found it a capital passport not only for myself but also for any plain coated companion the CV and the Retired Admiral. We were close to the Empress and the Queen &c when they got into a carriage on landing. The Empress has a very sweet countenance with soft blue eyes, the Emperor did not seem to me more aged than was fairly due to the 10 years it is since I was honoured with a shake of his hand at a ball in Paris when he was President. There was a crowd round the carriages and on its dispersion a French Officer came up and said he saw I was his colleague, would I allow him to escort us round the dockyard which he accordingly did, and we saw everything. Cherbourg is as he remarked to me, ‘le coups sans l’ame.’ There are basins without ships, storehouses without stores, and workshops without tools. The basins are very splendid but when Sir Baldwin Walker shewed a plan of Cherbourg and places on it and just cover it with the plans drawn on the same scale of our 5 dockyards he forgets to point out the splendidly wide streets and open places in Cherbourg and to contract them with the every-bit-made-use-of nature of our yards. It is a great mistake to suppose that this grand inauguration of Cherbourg is the inauguration of the completion of the military port, it is only one more step in advance. Cherbourg has for many years possessed 2 fine basins, a third has now been added but there are only the natural complements to this breakwater. From the day when that wonderful work was begun until now the Military Port has been in course of formation and I cannot understand why we should make such a desperate fuss about the completion of this one particular portion of that which will not for some years yet be a complete whole. I reckoned roughly that 24 line of battle ships could be placed alongside the wharves of the 3 basins but I cannot give you any figures by which to make a comparison with our own yards in that respect. Some of their 9 ships where old fashioned and some were handsome but the Renown was to my mind the handsomest and finest 2-decker there. You have most likely read how the active English ran up to the trucks when meaning years and how the heavier French sailors remained content with ascending as high only as the crosstrees. The fact is true but it proves nothing more than that such is the English fashion of today for manning yards and such, the French fashion. The French sailors only did as they were told. And now I must finish or I shall be beginning a fifth sheet and I think as it is your first offence you will have been sufficiently punished by heaving to read these 4 for having complained of [receivings?] omissions. We have offered ourselves for 3 or 4 days at Eastbourne next week and at Kitlands from Sept 6^th. Goodbye my dear Mother,

Your affectionate son

L.G. Heath.

File PB120088

Letter to Martin from AMC. Year? 1830s

Date needs sorting

Address

Master Marsh

At Miss Joyces

Hampstead

My dearest Martin,

I hope you are very well, very good and very happy. I have sent you your Grammar which I am afraid you must have wanted very much. Baby has just found it. And I send you Robinson Crusoe which I hope you will like. I think the pictures are very pretty. Your pussy is come to live in the pantry. She is very well. So are the two dogs. All your sisters send their love. Your horses are covered up every night and are very well. I have not got your prayer book home yet, because they have not finished the Bible which was to be made to match it. I will get you an iron hoop today, if I possibly can. I hope you will send me a letter tomorrow. Tell me if you want anything.

My dearest Martin,

Your most affectionate Mother Anne M.

File PB120090

Letter to Martin from AMC 1830s

Date needs sorting

My dear Martin,

I think you are a sad little boy never to have written to thank your kind Papa for his beautiful whips. And the other things he sent you. Don’t get into that way, my dear little boy. Always do your duty in writing letters though you may feel that you would rather play. If we wish people to love us, we must show them that we would not forget them. And would rather lose some pleasant play than neglect to write to them. I send you your Bible and Testament which are very handsome. Write to your grand papa to thank him. Direct William Marsh Esq.

The Park

Blackheath.

And ask Miss Joyce or Mrs Randall to be so good as to look over and correct your letter, that no words may be wrongly spelled. To a Grandpapa one should write a very neat, proper letter. Mr [Way, May?] dined here with us on Wednesday. He was very entertaining and gave us an account of the learned Fleas, that he had been to sea. I think Aunt Me took you to see them, but there are many more curious things to see now. The Fleas have little cannon, and there is a little citadel which the man calls the citadel of Antwerp and the [continues?]…

File PB120092

Letter to Martin from AMC 1830s

Date needs sorting

My dearest Martin,

I have a letter from Miss Joyce, and it contains so excellent an account of your conduct and improvement, that it has given your Papa and myself and your sisters extreme pleasure. May you go on my dear child performing your duty and with the blessing of your earthly parents, obtaining the far higher blessing from your Father who is in heaven. I am very sorry that I must disappoint you of your Saturday, but we are so much afraid of your bringing the measles to Baby. Just at this time when I should not be with her to nurse her, that we think it would be wrong to let you come home. And wrong, you know it is impossible that I could do. However sorry it makes me to disappoint you and all your sisters. However, I will come up in the little Phaeton on Saturday and take you a drive to the Zoological gardens to make some amends. And I hope your friend Mr John Randall will not dislike to join us. You will come down to me at Linley Wood the moment school breaks up. I must go on Wednesday as your Aunt Bessy is ill. Louisa and Posy go with me. Fanny and Georgy were at the riding school today. Fanny rode an Arabian horse, a great beauty, but rather unmanageable

[continues…?]

File PB120094

Letter to Stamford from AMC at Eastbury 1857

31^st July 1857

My dearest Stamford,

I have been wishing to write you one of my gossipy letters for many a day, but have kept putting it off, partly because my time has been so taken up, partly because I wished to be able to tell you with some certainty what our future plans would be. We mean to make our home in the country, and we have been to visit many places within an hour and a half distance from London. But there were grave objections to almost every one of them. Some were to dear, some too ugly. Some too large, some too small. However, at last I have opened a treaty for a small property in Surrey, beautifully situated and cheap, because the house upon it is not one to suit the taste of this luxurious world. I went to Mr Lynne to consult him yesterday and he thinks if I get the house at the price I propose it will be a good bargain. But it is painful work, choosing a new home, and leaving this so dear to us from so many associations of happiness with those who are forever gone, and its own, in our eyes, great beauty. Still I have never for a moment regretted what I have done. What is right comes right.

I am writing to day to prevent Louisa doing it. I am sorry to say according to her usual disregard of self, she has not been so prudent as she ought to have been since that terrible blow upon the head which she got at Mersham. The consequence was that she was so ill upon Tuesday I was obliged to send for the Dr. Upon examination …

[continues..?]

File PB120096

Letter to Stamford from AMC at Eastbury.

15^th May [1856/7]

[pencil at top – ‘send some money directly JSC’ Stamfords’ writing?]

My dearest Stamford,

Your most kind letter would have been answered the next day but I was obliged to spend along day in London upon various business and come home too late. And yesterday when I intended to have sat down for a regular long chat with you, I had such a world of things to do, that I could only find little scraps of time when I hate to sit down and write love letters. How very kind it is of you my dear brother to think of me just at this moment. You are like the good Genius in some eastern tale. Just extending your helping hand where it is most wanted, and certainly I may confess that at this moment it would not be extended without its usual discrimination to poor Pill [fashion, farlie?] (Do you remember our dearest mothers expression, I often think of it) for one thing after another has come pressing upon me this Spring as if there was a conspiracy against me. And though no happiness is equal to that of being able to help my children when sickness or unforeseen expenses come upon them yet… And so dear brother, thank you exceedingly for your kind kind thought with regard to me. My Adelaide and her children have been with me many weeks. I was seriously terrified about her. A Pleurisy after a lying in, when of course the system is for a time a good deal weakened is a serious affair indeed. And a cough and pain in the side remain which with her great weakness gave rise to the most uneasiness. Rose went over to nurse her as I think I told you and her first measure was to send the two little boys out of the nutshell of a parsonage, to me. It was impossible to keep them from disturbing their mother. Where [continues??]

File PB120098

Letter to Posy from AMC

Miss Rosa Marsh

1832

My dearest Posy,

I was very sorry I was not able to write you a letter from Linley, but I was not well enough. I am much better now I am come home. I want to see you very much and Emmy and Harry and I hope they will all come tomorrow. Grand Papa sent his love to all of you but particularly to you and Frankey because you sent your love to him. I am very glad to be at home again. I have brought you a very large drawing board against you are old enough to paint with Miss Brown. And some other little things. Fanny’s and Daddy’s love, your affectionate mother,

Anne Marsh.

PB120100

Combined letter to Posy from AMC, BM and [H or M] and

1838

Post Mark Boulogne sur Mer – 4 Mars 1838

To

Miss Rosamond Marsh

Dr Hollands

Lower Brook St

Grosvenor Square

London

Angleterre

Boulogne, Saturday.

My dearest Posy,

I am sorry to have been so long writing to answer your nice interesting letter but I have spent a most painful week and have been so continually taken up that I could not write. Fanny went to bed apparently quite well on Friday and on Saturday morning Louisa called me up saying she seemed very ill. She was in great pain and I put her into a warm bath and gave her 4 grams of Calomel but as the pain did not off I sent for Dr Dunard who said it was une maladie tres serieuse. He bled her in the arm but the blood was quite thick and black and would hardly flow. He then ordered her 25 leeches and to put on [parthies?] and get away as much blood as I could. And this relieved the pain, but it soon returned. The next day she was two hours in a hot bath and had 12 leeches more. And this at last conquered the inflammation. I was for too days and nights never away from her and slept without taking off my [clothes, dortles?] a little bit now and then as I could. It seemed all like a frightful dream. I was so tired that when she was out of danger I went to bed leaving Louisa and Georgy to nurse her. And Louisa over exerted herself and brought on her terrible pains in the face again. So I had her in bed in one room and fanny in the other and it was as much as Georgy and I could do to take care of them. We wanted you [kindly?]. Little Baby and Mary did all they could and Baby has brought on her headaches again with her exertions but they are all much better today.

I hope we shall have no more misfortunes. I am sorry my dear Mrs Holland has been so poorly but I hope it is all over before this time and that you are all enjoying the new little babe, hat is if Coo will give you leave. I hope it will be as charming as Coo who I think a most delightful little being. I suppose you intend to stay over the [Christening?] and bring Cooy [Cory?] back with you, which as I know you will like, you may do provided you are sure that your kind friends wish for you. You seem very busy with Cooy and I am glad to think you both so well employed, my dear love to her. Your Papa is to give you £1.6, you remember if you want more money you must ask him. Elizabeth [Walkinson?] will bring my night gowns which she will have made for you to bring over. She must be paid 7/- for them. Dearest dearest little Posy, how often do I think of you and long to have you again with me. I hope this [christening, chistin?] will not be very long to. I have promised the rest of your sisters and I have time for no more. My love to your dear Aunt Holland and I am ever my beloved little girl your affectionate mother.

My dear Posy, I shall not tell you all about Fanny. Useless since Mama has. You must not write to me first because you promised to write to first. I will not tell you about your lovely charming Charlie[? A cat?] who sends his love to you. He was very sorry after you went away as indeed he might. He has just been liking Mama’s plate after dinner. I boxed him in the ear - - many times. I will now tell you about the carnival I went all the town with [Culherene?] because May did not like to go. I saw a man with a woman strapped to his back and a man [teaching?] hers with a saddle on his back, round and deep with a man on it dressed in the same sort of fluff as the saddle who blew a trumpet and looked as if the saddle spoke a great many fishers and other people. I will describe to you another time but as I am in great hurry as I want to go and get dressed to go out. I went into a shop filled with masks and saw a doublet of black velvet, - - very old furs - -

BM

My dear Posh,

I have but very little time to write as Mrs Baley has been here and now we are going out in this little corner of fine weather. Mama will have told you all about poor Fannys and Louisas’ illness and you will discover a good reason why we did not write before. We have begun to work a cushion for Aunt Me. The pattern I worked before is [lentitrite?] and wools on claret coloured cloth. It will be very pretty, I think. I beg my dear Posy you will not do too many lessons an add [legaut?] from a governess but by your account of passing the day you seem to do scarcely anything but lessons. We have now a french lady, Madame Grammont, a very nice person who comes twice a week. She teaches us the same as Madame Aubert used to do. Chloe delights in her bowl extremely. I think she must often have wanted water for she drinks such a quantity. Louisa and Fanny are a great deal better today, very moving[?] and Louisa fay? - - I hope Mrs Holland is better. Pray give my very best love to her, Emily and to Miss Coo, though I should not think she would remember me. I am, dear Posy’s most affectionate [H or M?] I am must obliged to you for the measuring excuse had - -

My dear Posy,

I add a line to Posys letter to thank you warmly for your most kind little note to me. I have been in sad distress since I received. Fanny has been in great peril with an inflammation in the bowels which it took most decisive measure to [coryner?]. 37 leeches and bleeding in the arm, though she did not lose much by this loss, for the blood was so thick it would hardly flow. Hot baths and quiet have done the rest and she is doing very well and wonderfully little reduce. Mary brought on a terrible return of Louisa’s – pains in the face, for which I had her bled as you were so good as to advice and she was doing apparently very well when Dr Danard prescribed a strong black dose under the operation of which [continues?] she suddenly sank in so terrible a degree that I thought she was dying. Her jaw tired, her eyes stung and with speculation her [antennae?] pinched which and contorted. Her nose drawn up in the most frightful manner. I pulled open her teeth and poured in some brandy and so I got her round, but I never was so terrified it did not look the least like fainting as I had seen it. We have kept her very quiet since and she is now two days being over pretty well. Dr D advices [steel?] but I would rather not do anything without your advice. I think he has managed Fan [Fanny] admirably but does not understand Louisas’ illness. I am really terrible shaken, but hope a little quiet will recover me, being already better than I was. I am very sorry my dearest Mrs Holland has had so tedious a recovery. But hope she is better and that her darling little girl will pay her for all. Amelia was charmed with Emily’s looks and manner when she saw her. You are father to two of the sweetest little girls in London in their different guises, I do think. Farewell my dear Posy, your affectionate letter has remained in my mind as a comfort this whole terrible week. Ever your affectionate sister A.M. I am delighted my Posh find favour.

File PB12106

Letter to Posy, 1841 from AMC. Written horizontally, vertically and up-side-down.

Miss Rosamond Marsh

Dr Hollands

Lower Brook Street

Grosvenor Square

London[post mark Boulogne sur Mer - 14 May 1841]

Capeture[?] [Thorby, Thursday?]

My dearest Posy,

I have had a long letter lying by me for you, which I wanted to send till I heard again from your Papa and I am sorry to say he has not written. I shall however, keep this open till the Post to night. Your letter was a very charming one and would have given me great pleasure but for your account of your dear Papa which affected me very much. So much suffering and harass as he has had in life, it always gives me the severest pain to see him suffer. And all the pain and anxiety I have had upon this subject has had this for its [secret?] cause. Otherwise the finding it a matter that required time, energy and consideration to choose a home for life would not at all surprise me. Our mistake was that we set about it too soon. The newspapers are now full of advertisements of places to be sold in June. People are very right not to wish their places to be advertised or looked at till the leases are out. And I am very sorry I came to look at any so early. The great matter is to be sure a place is pretty and agreeable to one in summer. In winter most places are alike in charms, that is have none at all, and one must look to other sources for enjoyment. I confess the Gravesend scheme did seem to me the most extraordinary ever hit upon. For inconvenience and disagreeableness. And the state of Fanny’s health would make it impossible to expose her to the least unnecessary fatigue. I am anxious for her to change as soon as she can safely do it. But where ever it is done it must be with the greatest ease and precaution. And she must be stronger than she is. I am sorry to say at present, however, I hope your Papa will come to us and consult upon which is the best plan to be adopted and when ever he comes I wish you to cross with him. Unless there should be strong reasons on your side the water against it, if he merely comes to fetch me to look at [Mary rich Lodge – Old Windsor Lodge?] You might return with me. We were grievously disappointed in your account of the house at [Meyrich?] Lodge, and still more by your Papas’. We had all made up our minds that the house was [favoured?] and all our troubles at an end. However, I suppose it must be given up. I have seen the advertisement of another house near [Surrey?] Hill, about - - Mrs Tufnall knows that country well and tells us it is a quite delightful. So does Mrs [Hibbert, Hirtheh?] who uncle, Sir James Sibbald had a place there at which she spend much time.

I have just got your letter. This is for Mrs Holland. Dearest Mrs Holland, a thousand thanks for all your kindness to my Posh. She is very happy but she ought to pay a visit to Mrs [Hutton? Nutton?] or she will be hurt. Will you be so kind as to settle this for her with her Papa when you see him. I do not know what he means us to do as he has not written. We are all in the dark. Ever most affectionately your A.M.

Dearest Posh, as you are not coming you may let my gown be for the present till you take the fur off my shirt and ask Mrs Holland or Aunt G to put it by with theirs. I am afraid of it being spoiled by moths. I have been two days in bed with a slight attack of [laysipelus?] in my face, which is now happily gone off. I was yesterday with Baby and Mary to call upon the [Gerts, Gents?] and spent nearly an hour walking with them in their lovely garden. Mrs [Gert,Gent?] as usually [hardly?] one of the best hearted creatures in the world. I introduced myself to Miss [Graves?] at the dancing school the other day and told her of the conversation between us, on which she said she was delighted to hear it and shook my hand most cordially. She seems a very good natured, agreeable person. The children continue persevering with Delplagne, and are getting on very well with their music. Baby plays those variations of Beethovens really beautifully. I am glad you find favour in Mr Smith’s [eget?]. The approbation of a man of his [served?] discernment is a distinction to be proud of and I hope you will continue to deserve it, and the affection of your most loving mother, by [pleasing, pressing?] now you are out in the world. That singleness of heart, desire to do your duty by God and man, a freedom from pride, vanity and naughtiness of heart which have ensnared you the affection of everybody. I long to have you back again, my sweetest. We have had most enchanting weather, the little wood and garden with loads of blossoms and singing nightingales most provokingly pretty and such a promise of fruit! Every week day we [foreign, forage?] Fanny and I how much sweeter

[File 120109] [Meyrich?] Lodge would look, and had planned so much happiness together. However, sooner or later that happiness will, I feel, soon be ours. My dear love to Mrs Holland and thank her from me very much for all her kindness to you, my love. Kiss the little sweetest of all possible babies for me, and Cooy dear, and give all sorts of love to your sweet friend and coy my dear dear Emily. I hope Franky is by this time quite well again. Your account of Martin was glorious. I hope dear boy, he will labour hard and be a satisfaction to his

He wont sadly to hear from your Papa. Ever my dearest your own Mother. Your letters are very delightful to me, my dear child. Write on in the same way. Give my love to [lost chaqu’on.]

File PB120110

Combined Letter to Posy from Georgina 1841

Miss Rosamond Marsh

William Marsh Esq.

York Gate

Regents Park

London

Post mark 11 June 1841

Wednesday, 9^th June

Dearest Posh,

You will be disappointed at not hearing from Mama but she is suffering from toothache and besides which (you would not tell anybody) she [nestined?] herself with writing. I hope my dear daughter that we shall have the pleasure of seeing you with Papa next Sunday. I shall be most delighted to have my child back again. Expecting you have had enough gaiety and will be glad to come back again. We are now alternately in hope and despair about Sayes Court. We are at present hoping and are expecting a letter from Papa. Shall not you be delighted when it is taken. It has been always my [dearest love?] J Betly called here yesterday and he said that he had seen you at [legmaking?] at Putney Park. The other night Mary, Louisa and I went to drink tea at Mrs Gents. We here found [10?] with because the Pont de l’Elace has been the [Arp?] since the third and is still so. It was awfully stupid. Louisa and I sat at opposite sides of the room looking at each other and longing to be gone and then staid till 12 o’clock. The Flemings, James Butlers, Col Wilson, Mr and Mrs [Manfer?] Mr Gents sister with her eldest brother and Mrs St.John were the party. Mrs Butler sand the songs very well but I do not admire her voice. She [nossays?] all the sweetness away. Louisa sang ‘Groind d avor’ with Miss Gent, but very softly for it was impossible to hear her beneath Miss Gent’s powerful organ. Mr Fleming called here today. Mama likes them very much, they are devotedly attached to each other. And Robert Packer[?] has got his [cousin?] again and the whole family are going at the end of the month. [Georgina’s hand writing?]

My dearest Schweetis Poshkin,

At last G has finished her epistle and I may be allowed to scribble a line to you though what on earth I have to say the Pigs know. However, to begin. To day Georgy and I went up to pay our respects to Mrs George Eyres as Mama had a toothache and could not go. So accordingly we made ourselves very belle and set out upon our expedition. It was tremendously hot up the Grand Pina but we comforted ourselves on hopes of a comfortable cool sit in Mrs Eyres drawing room. Guess our dismay as when we were giving our last puff at the corner of the Rue du Chateau we saw Mrs Eyres, her daughter and little granddaughter ensconced in their carriage and just going to drive off. We however, heroically made up our minds to our fate and trudged back again to make some more calls. Mrs George seems a nice person, pretty, pleasing and inclined to be very friendly and has the sweetest little love of a girl that has ever seen. Mrs Croft is come back again looking more splendid than ever. She came out in the rain the other day and stayed some time and G and I walked back to town with her to our musical lesson. She is a nice, hearty person.

Dearest Posy,

Would you be so kind as to get me a penknife, a 2/shilling one. I do not care for the prettiness of the handle and wish the price in the blade. Will you also ask Papa to be so as to bring some toothbrushes with him when he comes. Pray give my love to all at P. Gate. Your ever affectionate F.M. Marsh. [Fanny?]

Fanny wrote her bit on the wrong page, so I have copied out on this. L.M.

Russia under Nikolas 1^st. by Captain Henley.

Trollops Summer in [Written?]France.

Susan Hoply

Night and Morning.

The Zincali by Boucoos.

Journal of a [Terdemie?] in Gt Britain by Now sojee Navel Architect

Swinbournes Courts of Europe

Lieutenant Edwin Quant and Walm Menilie

French hay by Theodore Broke.

File PB120114

Letter from AMC to Mrs Maitland.

Eastbury, 16^th April [1842-1847?] [1848 Chartist meeting in London?]

My dear Mrs Maitland,

I am very sorry that the intervention of Sunday when I do not write letters has delayed so long my sending you Mrs Holland’s answer to my application. I think I had better do it in her own words.

“Dr Holland always votes for Hospitals according to the opinion of the Medical Board who best know the merits of the Candidates but finding this time they are divided he has consented out of friendship for Dr Chambers to abstain from voting altogether instead of giving his vote as he had half promised to Mr Fuller, the other Candidate. This is all he can or ought to do.”

I wish my influence would have been more serviceable. I am writing upon the awful 16^th April, but hope you will have escaped alarm and that before you receive this the business with these criminal Chartists may have been settled as every well wisher of our inestimable constitution most desire.

With best compliments,

I am, my dear Madam, truly yours.
Anne Marsh.

File PB120116

Letter to Stamford from AMC

Post Mark Boulogne Sur Mere – 20^th Dec 1838

James Stamford Caldwell Esq.

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire.

Capecure, Dec 19^th.

My dearest Stamford,

I answer you most kind and affectionate letter without a moments delay. It is most certain that a letter has missed the last I received from you was dated Oct 30^th and I have written three times since. The first in answer to that letter which was a very kind one, to thank you for what it contained and two since on business. I have never had the letter asking for Booth and Pettets direction, the men in Lancaster Place. I have received £30, via M. Atl. Adam though Thursday the end £30 is not yet arrived, but I shall probably receive a notice of it this evening or tomorrow morning if it has been sent through Al. Adams house. If I do not in the course of a day or two I will let you know. I feel very much, dear Stamford, your kindness in sending this second remittance as I know it is to be attributed to an affectionate desire that I should feel myself well in [friends?]. The first, however, was all that was wanted to carry me to the Dividends, however, as it is always agreeable to have a proper account at one’s Bankers, I shall be very glad to exercise my account at Pierets. And your kind attention to what may be my possible wants gives me extreme pleasure. If you know the love and tenderness this heart bears for you, the delight with which I receive marks of affection. And the still greater delight (do not be angry with me for saying so) with which I follow your steps in your position where you are giving yourself to kind consideration for us all. You would never never think it possible in any [lasting sense?] of mine to believe in anything but the anxiety of a most true and earnest friend. I have such faith, to use Miss Martineau’’s expression, in the innate goodness of your heart, that I fondly expect and hope to see your career not exactly one of the ordinary sort. And I have an odd perhaps you will say impertinent feeling, with my young women about me and after all the buffets and trouble of my chequered life, I feel as a sort of mother among you all, and can hardly help feeling as if you and all these young couples very little below my own age who are, as it were, beginning life, are only entering upon a stage. I have passed over and as [having?] quietly finished my [hole in page] story almost, I long to cry out and warn those who are, as it were, beginning theirs. But I believe, though I most [unworthy, unworriedly?] offend sometimes no one in the world is more inclined to see me with a favourable eye than your partial self. And my reliance in this partiality is a very great sweetener to my [cuss?] Poor little Waterloo, I dare hardly even think of it. I had arranged a life there so consonant to my wishes, and a source of so much [invariant?] enjoyment to many that I cannot yet console myself that the “Mes Auguste” should oblige me to break up the little edifice. But I have never doubted that it was our duty. And duty and necessity are or ought to be so precisely the same, that I do not feel as if we had a choice. What we shall precisely do with ourselves I do not know. We shall, I think, take the large house and stay here till May 1840. Martin goes to Eton, Xmas 1839, and leaves Blackheath Midsummer 1839, it being our wish as we are abroad, to give him the other things, sometimes we think to travel for a few months afterwards and perhaps spend a little while in Italy, to perfect these girls in many things. But all these plans all quite in the air. As for us the advantages of education for these dear creatures goes, this sojourn here has quite answered my expectations. And I hope we shall be able to give them by this means, those advantages usually enjoyed by others of their station. More is not necessary. They beg me to thank their Uncle Stamford whom they all love very much for his kind recollection of them, which was received with that delight which kind [uncle’s?] presents usually give. And many happy xmases in return, they beg to send. They are all very well and in good spirits and though there is little gaiety going on we make a good fight and are very cheerful and very busy. I have just had a very comfortable letter from our dear Aunt Bessy. She writes cheerfully, seems to have plenty of engagements among all her old friends and to be doing very well. I like to hear here complain she cannot find times for things. It sounds so cheerful. She mentions your governess often, which upon the principle above, I heard with very great pleasure, though I am sure she will not accept it. And she is right I think, her income must be sufficient for her wants and expenses. At least unless unforeseen circumstances such as a long and expensive illness or something of the sort should arise. (a propos of the letter of Eliza’s you mention) It is very difficult to know about letters. How disagreeable to have ones letters read after the decease of the person to whom they are addressed. I thought if the write was living they were usually returned. I cannot think what Eliza could be thinking of, but of this I am sure, her efforts were unremitting to place you in the light you would wish to stand with our father (but you know she has an odd awkwardness of mind as well as body, in spite of the great beauty of the one and great ability of the other which makes her look and do and [say?] things at times that are quite out of keeping. And then [to?] my dearest father, one was sure never to say just the right thing we had so much awe of him. Fear of offending him, of giving pain. Fear, in your case, of saying too much or too little. The terms on which parents and children in our generation were on were so different from what goes on now-a-days. Whether for better or worse God knows. I am very glad to hear that Jos Wedgwoods wife is safe and that they have a little girl. It is a being in whom I shall look with great interest, expecting some extraordinary manifestation of beauty and sweetness from the source whenever it [shall bring, drew beings?]. They are getting better in Brook Street but have been much cut up. She writes very tenderly on the circumstance of laying her little one in our poor Emma’s bosom as it were. A feeling [exerted?] by a passage in your letter there is something very worthy[?] to ones feelings of this kind in this sort of exchange of children under the circumstances. The volume of Scotch songs must be in Brook Street. I never [hid, read?] it. I recollect when we divided our little property in books &v the second volume of these songs fell to my share, much to my regret as I greatly preferred the first and this gave me the impression that Eliza as elder had chosen it. Perhaps she gave it to Emma and has forgotten it. At all events I have never seen it since. I know nothing of Pitt Virgil except that I am sure there was one I m—did not know was in the library.

Anne.

File PB120120

Letter to Stamford from AMC
Post mark Boulogne sur mere 13^th September 1834.

James Stamford Caldwell

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

[Post Office, Buxton]

Boulogne, Sept

My dearest Stamford,

You quite forgot to tell me where I was to direct to you and I have waited a long time in hopes to hear of you or from you at last. Aunt B tells me that she thinks you were at Buxton so I have [renbred?] to direct this letter to you at Linley in hope to find you somewhere. And I have desired Aunt B to direct to you wherever you were. I will not go again over [give?] of your last, I feel very sorry to have given you pain. I had no idea till you expressed it so forcedly of the pain you had felt. I feel sure that my father has little idea that his own regrets are [strongly centred?] in your [secret?] thoughts. And I think [rolls away?] to end conversations which must be very distressing to you would be to assure him that they did distress you. And that your own disappointment at least equaled his, but I only throw out this, till we have the window in the heart the world will be full of misapprehensions even among those who expect to understand one another the best. I own I was not the least aware of the manner in which you felt. I thought, except on my father’s account, that you cared very little about the matter. It is a very long time since I have heard of any of you, and I quite long for letters from Elizabeth. I hope mine come to hand I did not give you much encouragement to come here and indeed I think you would have found very little to amuse you. We know a few people but they are all families of children except one, the Kennedys, where there are girls about Louisa’s age, and within the last week we have made out the Clarks who are here on their way from Paris. I am quite delighted with them both. Mr Clark, who by the bye enquires much after you, is indeed a very sensible and agreeable man, and [Minnie?] is become all that the wife of such a man should be. Their daughter who when last I saw them was a little shabby girl is new a pretty, agreeable young woman. We began to cultivate each other most vigorously. But now we are too ill with influenza and sore throats that I am obliged to put a stop to communication which is very provoking. Certainly we have had a vast deal of sickness since we have been here. And I suspect our situation is not very well chosen, but though there has been much illness about the town there has not been one case of cholera. We are very much engaged with our lessons but still manage to get some drives about the country, which seems to me pretty and interesting which, however, is probably owing to its novelty. We have some very good music. One of the Kennedys is the finest harp player I ever heard, a little, rather pretty odd looking girl complie de talons. The concerts too are good at three francs a head. And there is a pretty theatre. Things are cheap and life is very easy if we could but be [well?] But there is a consolation that one gets a very good physician at 5 francs. George Marsh is come from the Cape with his little son Willy, and we are all elders going down into [town, Touran?] I believe to pay Anne Gabiou a visit, which I shall enjoy exceedingly. That is the journey with my dearest Arthur scrambling over the country as we can, I expect, to see much that will interest me. I like this people much, they are so cheerful, so good humoured[?], so frugal and so temperate you never see a drunken man or hear a drunken brawl. At least I have only heard one though we are here among the all lowest population of the place that was however terrible, a drunken [putram reins?] to be a perfect madman. They all dress themselves up when their work is over. Men and women and go to their diners. In summer in the gardens in the neighbourhood. In winter in any large room they can find. They will have then amusements, poor as well as rich. I feel [concerned?] one of our great mistakes in England is not encouraging cheerful amusement among the poor. They seem very honest though very poor, and very independent the first thing in the birth of a child even in the poorest families is to begin to lay by [tinclly?] for the [tot?] and when they marry the woman is expected to bring enough to [plenish, furnish?] the house. While the man finds capital for the [timber?] the men among the bourgeoisie are remarkably[?] well mannered and well informed. I feel sheltered from the rain the other day in a [caroners, corner?] shop, and the master, a young man invited me into his drawing room, and entertained me with the greatest politness, giving me an account of the [population cotgintis?] of theplace – with comparison on the part and English [Goose laws? &c with the ease of a perfect gentleman and man of education. The woman of that class are greatly inferior, I think, to their husbands. Do write to me dear Stamford and tell me what you have been doing. If you come to London I do hope you will manage to [come, run?] over and see us in the steam boat. I can find you a bed in the house which Madame Billet will [aider?] to me for a franc. Every your affectionate Anne Marsh.

A very stupid letter written with too sick girls in my room and my head aching with the remains of my own illness.

File PB120125

Letter to JSC from AMC

J. Stamford Caldwell Esq

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Postmark –London8 Dec 1838

Chateau de Tus

6^th December

My dearest Stamford,

I have been hoping for another letter from you, you must not forget that [since? poor?] I am along way off and hear nothing of you or of your dear Linley Wood, except by your letters. However, I really was so idle in using your last kind one that I have no right to complain and I am now writing upon a little matter of business. It is to ask you if it be true that any interest was left due upon the Bond to and that it was not paid to the Trustees at the time to be so good as to order it to be paid to Arthur’s account at Mssrs Booth & Pettels, Lancaster Place, Waterloo Bridge, where I can [char?] for it through my bankers here. If it has been paid to the Trustees just give me a line to tell me so. The interest was paid up to the 28^th of July and as the book calculates, is 8/9^th per day, but I do not know whether that is correct. I put this down merely to save you the trouble of making the calculation. I have run our bankers book rather low by persuading Arthur to buy again into the Grand Junction Railway and as we do not receive our Dividends till the 8^th Jan. this little matter from you will just finish the last week without difficulty, or I would not have troubled you, dear Stamford, upon this matter. We paid more for our Railway shares than we expected, but I am so satisfied of its being a good investment of money that I do not care for that. And so there is an end of business. We have Lucy Holland staying with us and she is very gentle, lively and full of agreeable subjects of talk. So that we make it out very well in spite of this tremendous weather of which, however, we feel less than most, our house being well sheltered by the high hills which rise above Capécure and shelter it from the sea. I had a letter from Arthur last night. On Friday he attended the poor little Edith [Edith Saba Holland (1838-1838] to the grave and saw the poor little infant deposited just above our poor Emma. So she has in a manner charge of this poor little thing in her lowly dwelling. While Mrs Holland takes care of our Emy upon earth. I wept very bitterly when I first heard the news and that Arthur was again going to follow to that grave. These things seem to take one by a sort of sad surprise and break upon those sealed fountains of grief which one carries in ones heart. Poor Henry and his wife, Arthur says, are in great affliction, I believe now but parents know how hard it is to part with their little innocents. I am afraid we must prepare to lose poor Mary Marsh (1798-1839) She seems to be for gone in consumption and then Georgiana will be the only one left of all Mr Marshs 2^nd family. So this will be a sorrowful winter for them as the last was for me. She is wonderfully patient and resigned to leaving this world. Emma Wedgwoods marriage seems a most delightful affair. I think both parties equally to be congratulated. He is so delightful sort of person and she is a charming girl and will make a charming wife. To think of only Elizabeth being left unmarried at Maer. How little one anticipated that a few years ago. I talk to you of English news, dear Stamford, for I have nothing to write of that could interest you here, except to tell you that all the girls look blooming and well and are improving rapidly in their music. We have also at last discovered and excellent drawing master. Fanny has got a guitar and her voice goes very prettily with it. Next year we are to have a harp and then the proper [circle?] of accomplishments will be run. I rejoice in my courage to have broken up and come here when I see the improvement that is made and hope to return with my girls fit to adorn any station to which change may call them or what is better fitted to remain happy and content as they are should it be so ordained. We have a good [surety, security?] here as far as it goes, of those who are here for purposes of education like ourselves and we think however to get a better house. And then I hope next summer you among the rest will run over and take a look at us. I think you would find yourself happy making music with these girls and chatting with your Anne, of those innumerable subjects which are so interesting to us both. I wonder how your book goes on. I often, when I am reading, long to make extracts that [thrill, thake?] me. I think of all the books to make it must be the pleasantest. I have not heard from Aunt Bessy for some time. Her last letter was very cheerful and comfortable. Must now [end?], ever dear Stamford your affectionate sister.

File PB120129

Letter to JSC from AMC

James Stamford Caldwell Esq

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Post mark Boulogne sur Mer 1841

5 JA 1841

Capecure, Jun 2^nd

My dearest Stamford,

Rather awful work, beginning another year. At our time of life and time slips away will alarming rapidity. I can hardly believe that another year is actually gone. However, many happy new years to you at all events though I dare say you feel like me that the opening of a new year is not quite that joyous anticipation of hope that it used to be in days of yore. Before I proceed to other matters I will just terminate the disagreeable subject that formed the leading article in your last. I think you were very right to enlighten me as to your intentions in the possible event of your dying unmarried, especially as you seem to think they are not altogether what I might very naturally have anticipated. Moment[?]to your own friend introduced to me by yourself receiving your full approbation and the full approbation of my beloved father and mother. I confess I had never found any reason to suppose that my children would be utterly forgotten and cast aside as aliens and strangers. My father in the numberless conversations we had together never gave me the slightest reason to imagine that such was his wish. And if he expressed such wished to others was there no friend generous enough and kind enough to remind him of me and mine. However, leaving you, as he did, the uncontrolled master of his property, he, of course, concluded you would do with it as you thought proper. And if it is your pleasure to accumulate all you possess upon one favoured head, is it not your own. And who can have a right to gain say. You must forgive me, dear Stamford, for saying this much. I did not begin the subject. And it seems to me as if there would be something mean and cowardly in a silent acquiescence. I think I ought, in duty to my children, to express what I feel. But having once done so be assured I shall never trouble you with the slightest allusion to the subject again. I have pursued this course with those of their father’s sister who have thought proper to push them aside for the sake of George’s children. I expressed my feelings once upon the subject and have preserved absolute silence ever since. The course they have adopted did not surprise me in them. From you, I own it was not altogether what I should have expected. I must again repeat, dear Stamford, that nothing should have tempted me to the indelicacy on my part of broaching this subject had you not yourself thought it right to begin it. And now we will talk of other things. We still look very war-like here. The town full of soldiers of all descriptions, lancers, voltgiars[?], curissars[?], which last are fine men, tall and handsome any where, and where the soldiers in general are so undersized they make a great figure. They are mounted upon horses from England, that look much as if they had been buying the refuse of our Omnibus’s and the French papers are very much offended at our selling them any horses at all. It is an insult to be so little afraid of them as to furnish them with arms. The cliffs have batteries bristling with cannon. And the peaceful establishment ( public library and promenade that is) has a battery erected in front of its windows that just shuts out the view of the sea. Yet many people think, and I for one, that when this most anxious of nations finds that they must pay for their pet war themselves, instead of making other people pay for it, as in Napoleon’s time, they will not enjoy the pastime quite so much as they expect. However, those who know them best think that they will never be content without a little blood letting, particularly entertain most lofty ideas of what they are to do. Destroy our navy and burn London, as a matter of course. I was interrupted here and had to go and bid happy new years to Mrs Atherson. I fear poor Mr Atherson is rather declining. She lent me the Stafford paper in which she told me she had seen your name. But I have not had time to look what your name was doing. I have not yet had dear Miss Martineau’s book. I hear it is much liked which I most heartily rejoice at. Poor thing! What energy to write and to write well in such circumstances. I wonder whether I shall ever see her again. I have been reading little lately, being engaged studying with Martin, who has a great deal of reading to do in his vacation by his tutor’s direction. I continue to be very well pleased with Eton. And to rejoice very much in Arthur’s decision as to this subject. He is very sturdy in his conduct, has his time well occupied, is perfectly happy, and grows tall, strong and handsome. So far so good. Arthur tells me your book [Results of Reading. Published by John Murray, London, 1843?] is advertised. I shall expect a copy, authors always paying such compliments in return for the same and you had my performances you know. Arthur is in London and has been there some weeks and all Christmas so that we have had a [mournful?] Christmas without him and I have vowed it should be the last separation while he and I are in this world if I can help it. The guns are going and I think there must be some vessel in distress out at sea, and must go and look out for it. And it gets late so I will finish this letter. I do not know where you are but suppose it will reach you one place or other. I have had a most comfortable letter from dear Eliza with a very happy report of her family, almost men, she says her three boys are. And so indeed is mine. Aunt B too seems particularly well. It is a good year for Caldwells for I have not been so well many a long year. I am, my dearest Stamford, your affectionate sister,

AM.

File PB120133

Letter to Stamford from AMC

Post mark London4^th January 1839[?] But written before Christmas?

J. Stamford Caldwell Esq.

Linley Wood

Lawton,

Cheshire.

My ,

I have been waiting a few days to answer your last kind letters because I could not exactly tell you where the money was to be paid. £80 of it will be wanted on the 10^th January at Liverpool to answer a call of the Railway. It if is not inconvenient will you desire your banker to transmit it – eighty pounds – direct to Eliza that she may answer this call for us. It must be paid on the 10^th. The remainder will you be so good as to order to be paid to-

Messrs Booth & Pettet

Lancaster Place

Waterloo Bridge

Strand– on Arthur’s account.

If you will find it inconvenient to send the £80 to Liverpool by the 10^th will you give Arthur a line to his lodgings,

Kings Road,

Bedford Row.

To apprise him of this, in order that he may provide funds from London.

With regard to the receipt for the legacies, you are no doubt aware that they must be given on forms furnished for that purpose by the Legacy Duty Office in order that you may pass your account and get your [sureties?] from that Department. Mr Tomlinson will tell you all about that.

I am just bothered to death with lamps, flowers, cakes and jellies preparatory to an xmas dance for the children. And oh how I wish you could be at it. And play the young gentleman of what your nieces are much in want. And as they think you are a agreeable gentleman as well as very kind uncle, you would be most especially welcome. We have nothing but young boys and married men. The Baron des Lyons who is rather of the make of a Beefeater and at least 50 is to open the ball with Louisa, followed by Arthur with the principal lady. And the set will terminate with a little French boy of six and our little Adelaide. [sentence crossed out]. I here is not doubt, I suppose, that as Executor it was your duty to look over the letters. I am sorry you found anything to give you pain. But I will pledge almost dear to me upon Eliza’s truth and fidelity to your interests even at the risk of offending our dear father. Whatever she said was, I am sure, intending it for the best. It was, I assure you, often very difficult to say the right thing.

Miss [Manning, Mainwaring?] begs her best love to you and she is going to take lessons in music in order to please you.

I must end hastily dearest Stamford, being obliged to go to town. Miss [Manning, Mainwaring?] is just too come in as merry as possible. She tells me you said you would marry her if she could sing. And makes herself very merry with the idea. Ever dearest Stamford with many many happy new years to you, your affectionate sister, AM. Your xmas cadeau to your nephew and nieces brought all with it pretty things.

File PB120137

Letter to Stamford from AMC

Post mark London 10^th September 1839

James Stamford Caldwell Esq

The University Club,

Suffolk Street,

Pall Mall

London

Angleterre

Sunday Sept 8^th

Indeed my dearest Stamford, I thank you very much for the present you are sending me by Arthur. It is very kind indeed of you to think so much about our enjoyment and I am sure it would give you pleasure to know how very much you have increased it. Dear little Fanny is in raptures at the idea of being of the party and I had very much wished to take her. But really could not afford it. You have not only enabled us to do this, but we shall now be able to reach the Rhine, which our funds would not before have enabled us to do. Indeed, dearest Stamford, all the pleasure I have in seeing your generous desire to make us all happy is not merely selfish. You may imagine the pride both Eliza and I feel in seeing you so well deserving the love, and approbations of the whole world, by your determination to spread happiness around you. And our beloved father and mother, if they could witness, must witness with pride and joy what is done by their sacrifice. I am a bad expresser of thanks, I believe. But, dearest Stamford, if you could read my heart you would find it overflowing with the sweetest feelings. I have not yet your letter, which Arthur is bringing me with your present. Given he says with so much kindness and good feeling that it was impossible to refuse it. I accepted it with cordial thanks. We hope to set out on Thursday for the weather is lovely. We shall go to Ostend as the nearest point for getting on the Inv[hole in letter]od which will carry us in one day to Brussels. Another we shall be at Liege, and in two more at Cologne. The weather is charming and we shall have a most happy journey. I shall really be very glad to get our letter for I have every day been hoping to hear something of you and of all our old London set. I have only heard of you through the Huttons. I wish you would take carriage and come and pay us a visit here. I should you enjoy some chat with you. All the letters in the world are nothing to one hours chat. I was happy with Eliza that it made amends for many months of exile. Not but what I could be very happy here if I were not so far away from you all.

There is a meeting of French savants here this week. Dr [Fulton?] is come from England but I do not yet hear of any one else. Dr [Bashford?] has been invited by the Whitmores, who are here. They are relations of Mrs Ed Holland, only to think of Bessy Holland taking unto herself a husband. I like late marriages and am convinced she has done wisely. I have no news from here. How should I. I see no new books and have no idea what your world in London is intent upon. Lord Elgins [nors tournament?] I have time for no more. I wish you could see Fanny’s happy face. Their dear love, all of them to their kind uncle, ever dearest Stamford, your truly affectionate and grateful AM.

I had just finished. It is and was gone into the drawing room to have it sealed when I got your most interesting scrawl as you call it. I do not mean this as an answer. I shall still consider myself in your debt, dearest Stamford and will write to tell you of our journey. You are very very kind in what you say about my mentioning the [fruist?]. I did and do think it a liberty to one so [proudly?] considerate as you have shewn yourself to be in all things, but I felt sad you excuse it as you have so very kindly done on account of the occasion. I love you very very much, and have a pleasure inexpressible in the feelings that your feelings excite in my mind, so tender an interest and admiration. I must say if you will not think I use the word too bluntly. Indeed, dearest Stamford, I am sorry at the melancholy which sometimes pervades your mind. I do not wonder at it. I believe you would be very happy with a family of your own. No one more so [hole in letter from wax seal] should you not? Why should you not secure yourself that blessing. As I said above, later marriages do answer very well. I believe in my heart you would be happier now than you would have been some years ago. I think your imagination is more subdued to expect only what that relation, tender as it is [in between part mortals produce?] that you would accept that [shaded?] happiness which is all we are to have in this world. I am very very sorry you cannot run over to see us over here. I am quite sure we could have had a happy time together. A very happy one. Do not quite [hole in letter] your expectations of [affair?] ..make my heart quite yearn to yours, do you know that sweetest feeling. I am glad you were happy with our dear [Condine?] Hutton. As for Erasmus, he is une Citionille precassee dans de la neige and always was. C.D [Charles Darwin?]. is shy and busy, and not an old friend but I wish it had been otherwise for Emma Wedgwood’s sake who would have been a [chatting?] friend for you. You will enjoy your pretty Linley again when you get to it. I shall write again soon and tell you how happy we have all been. I am sure if you could tell how happy you had made [bottom of image] in the [stig?] by – her to me free of all money cares – would

File PB120141

Letter to Stamford from AMC from Boulogne. [Says leaving France, 8^th May 1840?]

Postmark 6 November 1840

James Stamford Caldwell Esq

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Capecure, 4^th Nov.

My dear Stamford,

I have an excuse for writing to you to acknowledge the receipt of the £25 via [Bult?] for which again many many thanks. I have immediately disposed of some of it, much to the satisfaction and delight of my elder girls. And some more is to go in riding lessons which are so expensive that I really could not afford them. And there is nothing I more desire than that they should all be bold and good riders. The elder ones ride well and the little ones, thanks to you, have already had a good many lessons and are beginning to ride very nicely. It is very sweet to me to receive from your kindness the means of indulging them in this and many other things. And so thank you again, dear Stamford for your cadeau. Is Aunt Bessy still with you. I think she owes me a letter and I hope she means to pay me soon for I want sadly to hear something about you all. I am quite in the dark as to your proceedings. I conclude you are at L.W. still. We have heard of a house near Leamington which seems not unlikely to suit us. It is about 5 miles from Leamington, and to be let or sold. I confess I should like to get near my own country again and should feel less lost there than south of London. The Corbets are staying at Leamington which would be a great advantage. I dined at the Atkinsons last week, and met a Mrs Adderley. She is the wife of Captain Adderley. She said she knew you and told me to remind you of a dinner at her house and of your going with her into the wood to call Captain Adderley. Mrs Atkinson always inquires kindly after you. Do send me some little message or other that you should be glad to meet them again or something I can deliver. Don’t forget, for I have a conscience and cannot forge messages though perhaps that is but a sample. The Mainwarings are returned to England, a great loss to us. Sir Henry [Sir Henry Mainwaring born 1782-1860 of Peover, Cheshire?] has had a meeting of his [creditors?] and was received most cordially, even to [hole in letter from wax seal] when he presented himself and had pain shaking of the hand. So I hope public opinion has changed to his favour. I believe he was not nearly to blame so much as was thought and that his attorney who concealed the state of his affairs and the ways and means he took to raise money was the great culprit. Poor Sir Henry has done all that the giving up of every personal comfort could do. And his only thought of his creditors and his children. He is going now to live with Aunt Di at her small house in the Hospital Street, till he has found a little cottage for himself and his daughters. Those nice daughters whom we regret so much and him whom we so much wish to be. We shall have a very quiet winter if we stay. Numbers of people are gone. We have, however, our O’Sullivans, our Browns and Mr and Mrs Cayley left. He is a cousin and she a daughter of Sir George Cayley [1773-1857] that used to come to Eton. He is M.P. for the North Riding and has made a celebrated speech on the Corn Laws and is an intelligent, agreeable and sensible man. We have also Sir James Lyon [Sir James Frederick Lyon KCB, GCH 1775-1842?] and family. A very sweet, pretty daughter introduced the rest [Georgy?]. If you would have come to see us you might have had, I assure you, charming female society and excellent music. And I am very sorry you never would, for our society really was excellent. I wish we may ever find as good in England. This for you [Surrey?] people who despise Boulogne. However, come what will, before the 8^th of next May we shake our tents and depart. I have had no books lately that we can talk together about. We are reading Jean Cavalier by [Lulae?] a very poor imitation of old mortality. The subject, the dragonnades in Louis 14^th time. I had a letter from dear Robert Mackintosh on occasion of the birth of his son. How the name reminds me of dear little Waterloo. He seems very happy with his fair American. Do you remember Mr Rowles that used to come to Knightsbridge, a cousin of Mrs [Marks?], rich, prosperous, a wife and beautiful daughters. Two married quietly to his satisfaction. He has just blown his brains out. You would see it in the papers. But probably would not recollect the name. Farewell, dearest Stamford, Kind love to my loved Aunt B if with you. The girls dear love. Always your affectionate sister,

Anne M.

File PB120145

Letter to Stamford from AMC

Post mark 1 March 1841 & 28^th Feb 1841 from [Boulogne?] sur Mer.

James Stamford Caldwell

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Capecure

28^th Feb

My dearest Stamford,

I accept with the greatest pleasure your proposal to renew our correspondence upon the old happy footing and to terminate our lovers quarrel. For a lovers quarrels they are and I [trust?] ever will be things with all the pain they occasion which I prefer a thousand times to cold indifference which is the death of love and friendship. People who really take interest in one another cannot always be as temperate and philosophical as they ought to be. But as long as we both keep our hearts in the right places I [trust?] our little bourasques will ever end in a renewal of the warmth of affection we feel for each other. I am sorry that I cannot answer your questions as to our plans so precisely as I could wish. They depend upon circumstances not within our own command. Arthur means to return to England the latter end of next month. It is not till the month following that the house agents have their orders for the Spring sales and [Pariculars?] &c ready. When he has obtained information as to what will be in the market we shall make our choice and I shall immediately follow him to look at anything he thinks eligible. If we find a purchase we shall not take any house in England till we get into our own. If we do not purchase, we shall take a house for six or 12 months till we can suit ourselves. This is all I can at present see myself. And I cannot lay down anything like a plan for the Summer till I have a little more idea of what our fate is to be. I have a number of visits to make. And most so arrange them as best will suit the engagement of you all. And as soon as ever I know what we must do I will let you know immediately. But in the mean time you must not think of me. I shall manage to catch you in the course of the Summer at some time which will suit your engagements. Pray, dearest Stamford, do not think of sending us any present this year. It would indeed take away all the pleasure I have in receiving this liberal proof of the interest you take in your nephew and nieces if I thought you would ever offer it when you were not amply [enfords?] I can easily believe that you find the keeping up your place, as you wish to keep it a source of constant expense which is running on when you are, as you must often be, elsewhere. The numberless small items, as I well know, in a family always exceed ones calculations. And there is ever something to be paid one had not expected. Fanny is going on very well, but she only let her room yesterday for mine which opens out of it and has not yet been down stairs. The Springs here are always cold and variable and there is scarcely any fine weather before the end of May. She will require much care, but I am assured by her physician here, a very clever man, that her lungs are not in the least affected. We have had a gay winter here, since Christmas at least it seems so to me, though those accustomed to more society than I have ever been might not call it so. We have had some pleasant international balls. The first Bachelors began by giving the English a ball. They were followed by the French married men. There were nobles of the neighbourhood and in consideration of English prejudices they invited none of their own bourgeoisie. Though usually in this country, of the only true egality there is little regard paid to these distinctions of rank. The English gentlemen then give the French a ball. And at Mn Caséme there is to be one other. For though no good Catholick dances in Lend, yet they allow themselves one ball in the middle of the 40 days just to make it possible to endure the privation. We pass our time chiefly with two or three families and have given one another mutual childrens’ balls. The Bridgemans, when there are some nice young creatures the age of mine. He is brother of Lord [Bradford?] who you no doubt know very well. The Lyons, he is a general officer of considerable distinction and has a very sweet family of girls. The eldest about Georgy’s age. Very handsome and accomplished, and the Burnses, who are charming society. Both of them. Really very different indeed from what one usually meets with. Here the little girls meet two of Lord [Tlyins?] little girls of their own age. You remember him at college. He is now the father of 14 children. We have a great loss in the Mainwarings and Corbets and those who have succeeded them are going away as well as ourselves so our pleasant little society will be broken up. And we shall have nothing to regret in leaving this place. But its cheapness. And things indeed advance so rapidly in price that I hope I shall not find England so much much more expensive than this place as it used to be. I am glad you have been visiting your neighbours. I should think that you would always find something at Rode Hall that would be agreeable to your taste. I think I never was so grieved and shocked at any event, out of our own family, as at the death of Mrs Clive. The dear Tollets have indeed been [sorely, rarely?] visited. I had a letter from Lady Pilkington the other day. She seems to attribute the fever which carried her off to hay. How shocking the whole story is! Lady Pilkington is now at Batterdon. She was, as I dare say you remember, Mr Summertons’ daughter and heiress. She spent last summer here with her children and we renewed our acquaintance and became intimate. If you meet with her, do cultivate an acquaintance with her. I am sure she is a person you –

There you have Miss Martineaus’ [Hair and Mon? name of book?]. We liked it much. I had a very kind message from her and have written to her. I fear we must never hope to see her again. Poor Albert Crompton was a loss indeed any loss on that house is a loss to all. I had a very affectionate letter from Caroline upon the occasion. Martin was Captain of his [term? ] which considering he took a double remove a few weeks ago is doing well I think, dear little Franky is very [industrious?] and very happy.

You will never read this scrawl, dear Stamford. But I am pressed for time. Ever your truly affectionate sister

A.M.

File PB120149

From Mrs Roscoe, 1847 [Not sure if this relates to letter below] filing note?

Pencil note –

Anne Marsh

To

J Stamford Caldwell

1833-1841 from Boulogne sur Mer.

File 20150

Possibly Elizabeth C Greenwood [ne Barnardiston to AMC] 1854?

Date needs sorting

Saturday [?]

My dearest Mrs Marsh.

My husband [John Greenwood?], brother and Willy Parker have started this morning for London. En route to the Pyes[?] and Melford (dear old Melford) in order to pay the last sad tribute of respects to my dear uncles’ remains on Tuesday next at 11 o’clock [Admiral Sir Hyde Parker died 16 July 1854?]. They were removed from here yesterday afternoon and travelled all night, and through to Sudbury and are now resting till Tuesday in his own old home. You know how sad is the day and the hour when all is gone… And the room deserted! At the earnest wish of every one, I gave up my intention of following him to the grave but many things made it almost impracticable for me to do so. Except with great risk of health, for I am neither well, nor strong. This long and sad anxiety and my illness at my mother’s has told upon me and had I so willed it, this [morning?] my had would not have let me start. These Easterly winds too, affect my chest very much. So I gave in. But alas with the deepest regret, for I had quite determined to go. I think of how many loved ones I have lost. How many links of the chain are broken since last I saw Eastbury! And in a few weeks it will be two years since I have worn black. My dear Uncles’ loss is very very great to me. And cannot be filled and none can mourn him like me. So I have it all to myself and dwell inwardly on kindnesses and former happy days. I could have wished we could have spent a few more days together and then some things might have been different. [Which?] cause me now much regret and [sadness?]. He longed, he wished, to see me. He said he had something to tell me. And I am sure there was something on his mind. The last few hours, the last few words I gathered from him expressed it. Alas, alas. It was all too late. After the [frich Edt?] of his arrival, when he would only have the newspapers read to him, he was too far gone to hold any conversation and I think now, hoped in as he had landed so comfortably, that he had yet days to spare. So I shall never know what he had to say. And he cannot rectify what he has done. There seems a fatality, if it is not wicked to use the word. I have no clue whatever to guide me to what he had so earnestly expressed a wish to say. And this added to my sadness. He was just calm and patient whilst here. And suffered no pain, beyond the incessant restlessness attendant in his disease. He wished to be moved every instant. And I think this restlessness worse than pain. He was carried [all.?] from place to place. He could not stay in bed or rest any where. He was propped up by dozens of pillows. He did not sleep. Nor did he scarcely swallow any nourishment after his [acsioul’b?] his constitution was strong almost to the last. His last half hour was quick. And so died almost without a sigh. All was quiet and almost imperceptible. My poor dear Uncle! I read a little to him Friday morning, but I cannot say whether he was able to attend[?] he said his prayers nightly, regularly and I think had his own views on religious matters and did not like or wish for any interference [but view?] of a clergyman. He sought no solace or aid from others in these matters. And after he came here, alas it was quite impossible to speak to him of receiving the Holy Communion, as I so longed to do. But no sign of penitence, no holy thought or aspiration is [lost?] in heaven and I trust he is now with a merciful Father. And at [least?] his love and confidence and trust in me never changed. Some day I will tell you something which will shew how much he trusted. And how I will not let you hear from others. How he was disposed of his property, or learn it by mere rumour. I grieve to say I wish I could tell you differently as far as my poor mother and brothers are concerned. Willy Parker [Sir William Parker, 9th Baronet (1826–1891)? Married Sophia Mary Barnardiston] comes in to all the property, after it has been, I think, sometime in Trust to pay off the Mortgage of £40,000 upon it. He comes into [personals?] everything. I am left £4,500 and an annuity of £300 a year in Melford, should I survive [Martin?]. The house in Onslow Square was mine so of course is not mentioned in the will. To my brothers, only £1,000, each is left. To my mother £100 and his carriage and horses. Oh dear, Mrs Marsh, I cannot tell you, my [sorrow?] and distress at this. To you I will say, and I can do it, how I grieved at his not having done rightly to my poor brothers, and I cannot bear that he should be blamed as to it. For there seems [not two?] opinions in the subject. He was the only person my brothers had to look to. And most naturally and after all that had been promised and other circumstances attendant in some of the unhappy affairs of our family, they cannot but be terribly disappointed. That the land would go was expected, but not that every thing also should, and they have only these trifling legacies! I cannot understand it and I grieve much for my poor mothers, for it is a sad termination to a long life of [sorrows?] of money borne so patiently as she has done.

I know you will be sorry. This is all I know of the bulk of the Will. Mention it not. Please, unless obliged. There are many things I could tell you. But I have not the heart to write them, and my headaches badly. My brothers will bear up well, but I feel deeply for them and my mother. Let dear Louisa know of this letter and thank her for me for hers. I will write to her later. I write it in haste, as I want you much to get it before Tuesday.
God bless you, ever yours with [me as?] kindest love, and believe me, always my dear Mrs – your very affectionate

L AG [LEG?] Louisa Elizabeth Barnardiston [1828-1881+] – married John Greenwood?

File PB20154

Fanny Allen [1781-1871] Aunt of Emma Darwin.

Mentions Madame de Stael’s visit to England which was 1813. Also Lord Byron in England at that time.

Dulwich 15^th February

My dearest Anne,

I like speedy answers quite as much as you do, both to give and receive and therefore it is with great pleasure that I devote this morning to a little conversation with you on paper. I must, however, say, before I go to other subjects, that I do not exactly understand what you mean by ‘answering me shortly,’ unless, indeed, your letter has been frozen up, at some of the post offices and [man, train?] fixed it for me two days ago. Your letter is not dated, therefore I may guess as I chose. I wrote to you on the 12^th of January, about a month after I received yours but in the mean while I had written to Eliza, which I considered almost told before you answered my last letter, and I have not had a line from Eliza since some time before she went to Liverpool. The beginning of our letter was therefore written in my character and I by you will mind it. Madame de Staël will drive you mad. I do not object to anything you say of her or her books, but I have a great dislike to idolate and in the character of an image breaker I want to prevent your falling down and worshipping you will probably see this divinity of yours in Staffordshire this summer, she means to stay a few at Trentham in her way either to, or from Scotland. Your name has been mentioned to her, as having infiniment d’esprit, and I give Mackintosh a couple of sentences in your last letter to me, with your name and a description of your person to send to Madame de Stael. I am afraid the chief object of this was to flatter la Baronne, but to this motive another was bound, which I wish may have its effect, that is to say, if she sees you at Trentham, that she may notice you. I do not mean this for vanity sake, but she is undoubtedly very charming in conversation, and will gratify you most entirely. I like your enthusiasm about her, as it is real; but Mrs Waddington has disgusted me with her mock raptures and enthusiasm, which she sends twice a week to Baugh. She and her daughter Fanny prostrate themselves in the dirt before their idol to gain a little fame. Now I want you to admire, not wonder and worship; remember the fate of all idolatry is sooner or later to have their images broken. And remember also that you must practice unbelief or forget much before you can worship the good and fair in your idol. Brougham puzzles her by calling her ‘l’amiable inconsequente.’ Can you discover why? The The Viscon de San Paul, I think it is, struck me very much, particularly the part you mention, which I have quoted once or twice as very striking. This gave me great pleasure, as I like to feel with you, but think a little more soberly. What do you think of a Roman Catholic bishop who was so shocked at the blasphemy of this vision that he would not venture to think of it again? Emma and I went on Saturday evening to George Street, to go with Kity to a party at Mr Warrens. We found Mackintosh very well and in delightful spirits. Poor Godwin dined there. He always makes me low. He seems so oppressed by the evil opinion of mankind. As I found him so much at leisure I asked him what he thought the best books for you to study the mechanism of verse. And he told me, that he would recommend to you Mitfords Harmony of the English Language. ( I think this was the title, but I am not exactly certain) Kames, he said, you would learn nothing from, and Mitfords was the only good book that he knew, for that purpose. After that, he would recommend you to study all Spencer, as he is the most harmonious versifier of our poets, Shakespeare, the harmonious parts of Milton, and the best parts of Dryden. To read these after, and all other poets not at all, if you wanted to counteract diffuseness of style, he would recommend you to study Greg who is a pattern of closeness but I should think Dryden is a much better pattern of force and closeness. I charge you continue your poetical studies, and let me soon have the effect of them. Have you forgotten your tragedy that you promised to send me? I want to see it very much. Speak a word of it in your next. You must also tell me in your next, whether it was you, or Mr Griffin who bet on Wordsworth, but the one who did, has won it. Cribbes diction is very poetical and quite of the old school. Tell Robertus that Sir J Romily melted the whole company at Bowood to tears by reading to them Cribbes tale of the parting hour. Madame de Stael sobbed and Lady Lansdown was almost in fits. Horner[?] too will back Mr Griffin in his taste for Crabbe, as he thinks him the first poet of the day. I am very much surprised you speak so slightingly of Lord Byrons’ ‘Corsair.’ I like it better than ‘The Bride of Abydos,’ though it does not [reach, nach?] the ‘Giaour.’ I have received so much pleasure from the [time?] that I should be well content that he produced a few more. He does wisely, however, to work a little harder for lasting fame. The object of the two last poems is very credible to him. Mr Hodgson, the man who is translating Lucien Buonapartes’ poem, was engaged to be married but he could not afford either to take a house or furnish it. Lord Byron has enabled him to marry, by giving him £500, what he sold the ‘Bridge of Abydos’ for. The same sum was given Lord Byron by marriage, for ‘The Corsair,’ which he wants to give to Moore. He was in a delicate distress how to manage the gift. I have not heard lately how he has got out of the difficulty. It was said on Saturday that orders have been given to prosecute Lord Byron for those verses that were at the end of some of the copies of ‘The Corsair’ on the Princess Charlottes’ crying at Carlton House. Any thing that is dirty and contemptible we might expect from the Prince. There are parts of The Corsair that are uncommonly beautiful. The scene between Galnase and the Corsair when she first enters his prison. And also in the boat. His hero is a repetition of his own character again. His notes and preface are written in a detestable style. I have seen one Canto of Lucien Buonapartes poem, it is pretty and I think very interesting. I am no judge of the poetry, but Madame de Stael does not, I believe, think much of it. I have also seen two Volumes of Madame d’Arblays ‘Wanderer’ [‘The Wanderer’or ‘Female Difficulties’ by Frances Burney, Madame d’A. 1814] which I think excessively interesting. I do not know when it will come out. We have been reading it in a very uncomfortable way, a few hundred sheets now, from Longman and at the end of a fortnight as many again. Another time I will abstain and not read a work piece meal after this manner. Madame d’Arblay seems to have lost all idea of the manners and I am afraid you are playing a [Judas?] trick both with Griffin [hoof?] and your Jackdaw. I believe you are a sure coquet Annie. I am glad to hear that S.W. [Sarah Wedgwood?] is so well after her journey. She has sent me a kind little note. But Lizzie and Sarah have both a [coughing?] fit on them. Are you going to spend any time at Parkfield soon. Mind write to me soon and believe me ever dearest Annie yours

F. Allen. [Fanny Allen?]

You [must have?] the plant and seeds and if they ever remind you of me I shall love the [sturdy, Hurry?] tribe. I will be your star of Arcady. Where is Stamford. Is he in town now. [Jessie?] and Es’ kindest love to you all, more to all your family.

File PB120158

Letter to Stamford at Linley Wood from AMC in Boulogne sur Mer

Post mark 4^th December 1841

J. Stamford Caldwell Esq

Linley Wood

Lawton

Cheshire

Angleterre

Capecure

Wednesday 3^rd March 1841

My dearest Stamford,

Our letters crossed upon the road and I did not get your last most kind one till Tuesday morning. I should have written again yesterday but I was busy preparing my years accounts for Arthur who is soon returning to England and after I had done that I was so tired that I could do nothing more. And as we were going in the evening to a little party at Sir James Lyon’s I was obliged to go to bed to rest. I should be sorry indeed, dear Stamford, to appear in any way insensible to such a letter. It is gratifying that our letters crossed upon the road, and that we had the pleasure of receiving from each other the proof of our mutual affection uncalled for as it were. Thank you tenderly for your hospitable invitation for opening your doors in so sweet a manner in the name of one whose memory is to me so honoured, revered and loved. I hope to visit you in the course of next summer. And see all you have done and are doing at your beloved place. My dearest fathers fears that you would not love it, have been most happily [behid?] and to see you living and reigning among all his old dependents in his place would give him and my beloved mother most unfeigned pleasure. Your theory of that actual vision of those that are gone, extended to us that are left I do not know whether I dare adopt. Their heavenly rest might be too much disturbed by witnessing the sorrows and failures of this mortal life. Yet it must have to their son, filling their place and carrying on, as it were, their plans and views a very [tending?] feeling to [farry?] them regarding and approving. This, I know, that to me the loss of that approbation to which I always used to look as my highest reward, his made the world, under some of it aspects, very [histe?] to me. Arthur is leaving a fortnight sooner than he intended having heard of a house that he thinks likely to suit us. And wishing not to run the risk of losing it by delay. It sounds a very delightful sort of place, but we have too often proved how far the performance in these matters falls short of the promise to place much reliance upon description. We had some excellent music last night at the Lyons and then they danced Quadrilles till 2 o’clock in the morning. I danced a country dance with Sir James [Lyon] for at our select parties we admit very few young men and all the perès de famille and merès too, dance with their children. Captain Bridgman and Arthur were dancing with their wives and daughters. If you ever had come to us you would have seen how nicely we go on, and what pretty elegant girls I could have introduced you to, to have looked out for a wife among. This is our last happy party. The Lyons go to Brussels, the Bridgmans return to England. There will hardly one member of our own set left. Farewell dear Stamford, I have time for no more today as I was late this morning. Fanny is in the drawing room again. All the girls in high spirits at the idea of returning to England again. Send love from all the party, ever most affectionately your sister A.M.

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