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EMMA DARWIN
A CENTURY OF FAMILY LETTERS
1792-1896
VOLUME I
CHAPTER XV
1827—1830
The Mackintoshes at Maer—A bazaar at Newcastle—Bessy on the Drewe-Prévost affair—The house in York Street sold—The John Wedgwoods abroad—Edward Drewe's marriage—The Mackintoshes at Clapham—Bessy's illness at Roehampton—Harriet Surtees at Chêne—Harry Wedgwood's engagement—A gay week at Woodhouse.
FANNY and Emma found a large party at Maer on their return from Geneva. The aunts Caroline Drewe and Harriet Surtees were there, as well as the Mackintoshes. It was soon after the death of Mr Surtees, and Emma wrote as if before this visit she had scarcely seen her aunt Harriet, whom she thought more like her mother than any of her other aunts. The Mackintoshes had come for a stay of six months. Book-shelves and writing-tables had been specially prepared for Sir James to work at his History. Emma wrote, "Sir James shook hands with me, to my great surprise. He is very pleasant and talkative." Bessy described his bearing the bitter disappointment of getting nothing in Canning's Cabinet1 with calmness and fortitude, and several times mentioned with pleasure that no shade of disagreement had ever interfered with her enjoyment of her sister Kitty's society. Lady Mackintosh was attempting amongst other things to reform Smithfield cattle market, and some very good letters by her on this subject appeared in the Times.
1 Canning's Cabinet of 1827 was composed of Whigs and Tories, and, according to Scarlett, Canning was surprised that Mackintosh was not proposed as one of his colleagues by the Whigs. Mackintosh was shortly afterwards made a Privy Councillor, but it seems that he had not made a sufficient mark as a practical politician, or was regarded as too infirm in health to be fit for any important office. His health had suffered permanently from the Indian climate. In the Whig Government of November, 1830, he was made a Commissioner of the Board of Control.
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Madame Sismondi.
MAER, Monday, Aug. 27, 1827.
Mackintosh is come home after attending poor Canning's funeral. Alas! what a loss he is to all Europe. There were many at the funeral (M. said), who could not control their grief.... M. had a long conversation with Dr Holland about Canning's illness. It was his misfortune, and everybody's misfortune, that he was so pressed by circumstances, that he had not time to be ill. When Dr Holland came to him the first day, Canning said to him, "Dr, I have been struggling with illness these three months, and it has now conquered me." He had had shivering fits for four days, during which he had been giving dinners, and attending to his business. Dr Holland had no hope of him from the first day. On one of these days when he was so ill, he had his Secretary with him at his bedside for three hours over accounts. After he had done he said, "Now let's have a tug at Portugal." "No, sir," said the Secretary, "you have done enough, you must take repose," and he took his advice and fell asleep.
Mackintosh is in very agreeable spirits. I think he finds himself comfortable here, and he is a great acquisition to us in point of society. He generally sits a good while conversing after breakfast, then he goes up to his room for the morning, and we don't see him till dinner. He has his horse here, and rides every day before dinner. He has his own books, and he is established in the middle room upstairs for his study, and he sleeps in the next. In the evening he joins us at tea, and if we have no other company he is very obliging in reading anything we like to us, and he reads so well that it is a great treat. Kitty is also very comfortable; she spends almost all day in her own room and is very busy at her studies, amongst which the newspapers have their usual share, but always on the side of benevolence and humanity.
You take so much interest in my inmost feelings that I think you will wish to know how I like my two little girls now that I look with a fresh eye upon them. I think you and my kind Sismondi have done them good, but I don't perceive any marks of spoliation that I rather expected from both your kindness. I perceive that they converse with much more ease than they did, and are quite as unaffected. Emma is a little bronzed, but Fanny is one degree nearer prettiness than she was; but I hope she will never make the mistake of thinking that she is pretty. I must give you the same caution that you did to me when they were with you, which was, not to notice any of my remarks upon themselves; for they would think it hard to be debarred from any part of your letters, and you know how remarks get strength by repetition.
Harriet's [Surtees] income will be too small to allow her to keep house comfortably, but her gentle, cheerful and accommodating disposition will always make her company precious to us all. She has only to chuse where she will be. Her modest docility is so striking that it almost makes one afraid to propose anything to her, for fear of her doing what she would rather not do.
Sir James Mackintosh to his brother-in-law John Allen.
AMPTHILL, PARK, 3 Dec., 1827.
I passed three months at Maer most agreeably in all that depended on the Rulers. Before I went I sometimes suspected that you had all exaggerated the Excellencies of your eldest sister, without going quite so far as to suppose that she was a graven image whom you had set up to fall down before and worship; but I now adopt your Worship. I never saw any other person whose acts of civility or friendship depended so little on Rule or Habit, and were so constantly refreshed from the Wellhead of Kindness with the Infusions of which they seemed to sparkle. Her benignity is indeed most graceful. I used to rally her on the gentlest mistress in England having the noisiest household. Both the elder girls1 are excellent, and the second is charming. The rest of the Family are more good than agreeable. I except Hensleigh, who is, I fear, doomed to ill-health.
1 Elizabeth and Charlotte are the two elder girls. Jos, Frank, Fanny, and Emma would be those who are "more good than agreeable."
John Allen and his sister Fanny were at Geneva in the autumn of 1827 en route for Rome. In Madame de Bunsen's Journal to her mother she wrote:
Rome, 29 Nov. 1827.1
1 Life and Letters of Frances, Baroness Bunsen, vol. i., p. 294.
The company of Mr Allen is a real pleasure to me. I am more than ever aware of all that is good and excellent and respectable about him, but his foibles have grown old with him as well as his good qualities, and he is as fond as ever of repeating anecdotes of Brooks's: he has however changed the chit-chat of Holland House for that of Woburn, and the names of Scarlett, Brougham, etc., for those of the Russells and the Seymours.
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Emma Allen at Cresselly.
MAER, Oct, 31st, 1827.
Having just put your letter in the fire, unread by any save Elizabeth and myself, I proceed to answer it, my ever dear Emma....
It is not like my dear gentle John [Allen] to speak as he does of the Prévost family. We are all accused of a clannish feeling with respect to each other that has a tendency to make us inconsiderate to other people, and I think John's feelings for Caroline [Drewe] blind him, and make him unjust. I was very much amused by a bon mot of Mr. Alderson's, apropos to this subject, which Harriet Gifford told me. Speaking (I believe a little too roughly) on the sort of exclusive feeling that all Caroline's sisters have for her, "I declare," said he, "if I were to break both my legs Mrs Drewe's sisters would only say 'Poor Caroline.""
One word more of our clan—my dear Emma, I would not upon any account press Jessie to return with John [Allen]. It would be very unfair to Sismondi, and the opportunity is not a reason strong enough to make him so unhappy as I think her coming would do....
Kitty [Mackintosh] is very busy about a number of good things, and she has been in correspondence with numbers of people. Mackintosh has had one or two fits of giddiness but they did not last a minute, but it has very much interrupted the history, which goes on so slowly that I am quite in despair about it. He can't do much at a time now for fear of his head; he will do nothing after dinner, and he generally takes two walks and a ride in the morning, so that when he is best able there is not much time for it. His spirits are cheerful enough, but the mortification1 has sunk deep, and will not now be cured by anything that is likely to occur. He is in a very amiable humour, and so friendly to me that I have begun to love him. We play a rubber every night, which he enjoys very much, and considering he is a genius, he plays very decently. The Darwins go on Monday. I like them very much, but I shall not be sorry to have our party lessened. There is very little pleasure in what the young ones call a row. Hensleigh is gone, and him we all regret. He and Fanny Mack are great friends and cronies.
1 The mortification of not being given office in Canning's Cabinet.
All this autumn Maer must have been full to overflowing. Susan and Catherine Darwin came for a month, and Harry appears to have filled up some spare time in flirting with Susan, although his real love was his cousin Jessie, daughter of John Wedgwood.
Emma Wedgwood, now nineteen, was leading a happy, girlish life, taking what parties, balls and archery meetings came in her way. Charlotte and Elizabeth were only too happy to retire from all gaieties in favour of the younger girls. My mother used to tell us that at these balls they had white soup and pikelets for refreshments, and she said it was a work of danger to eat slippery buttery pikelets in ball costume.
Since the Genevan visit, Emma, in writing to Jessie Sismondi, expresses herself with greater warmth and expansiveness than is usual with her, and often signs herself "your affectionate child." Jessie adopted the phrase and from this time forth generally called Fanny and Emma her children.
Emma Wedgwood to her aunt Madame Sismondi.
MAER, Sunday [April, 1828].
MY DEAREST AUNT JESSIE,
Mamma sent us down your letter some time ago, and we were rejoiced indeed to see your dear handwriting. We did not hear of your illness till we heard you were recovering, but that was not enough to prevent our feeling very uneasy about you....
We have been making a great many things for this Bazaar, which is for building fever wards to the Infirmary, and our heads have been so full of it, that if I don't take care I shall write about nothing else.
Friday. On Tuesday Charlotte, Fanny, and I went to Newcastle to arrange our table.... It looked very nice with some pink calico on the wall behind us, pinned all over with skreens and bags. On Wednesday morning aunt Sarah took two of us in her carriage, very smart in those white hats you are acquainted with, which were of great use. All the world was there, smart people and common people, and the room was so crowded one could hardly stir about. It was very amusing selling, and we sold nearly all our things the first day. Charlotte's drawings came to great honour.... The proceeds of the first day was £700. Our table got £59, of which £34 was our own making. And now we don't mean to mention the name of a bazaar for the next three years.... I am very glad Edward [Drewe] is going to be married in May, I am sure it is much the best thing for him. If I was his mother I should be very glad to have him off my hands. I am going to finish your stool for Edward to take over. The top is the same as the one you have got but the sides are different, which I hope you won't mind. Be sure you don't say when you get it, "Well it's a wonder such a little idiot could make a decent stool."
I think a great deal of the delightful winter we spent with you. The part which gives me by far most pleasure to think of is your affection for us, and your and my dear uncle's sympathizing with us in all our pleasures. My dearest aunt Jessie I hope you know how tenderly I love you, but it is no use telling it to you for you will believe it without.
Your affectionate,
EMMA W.
Madame Sismondi to her niece Emma Wedgwood.
CHÊNE, May 21st [1828].
I have received by Edward your pretty stool, my dear little Emma. You cannot imagine the pleasure it gives me, since I have done nothing but lament my folly in having given away the other to a person who cares nothing about me. I confess this you have sent me is still prettier and admirably worked, and I am at last consoled for the loss of the other, though you can give me no consolation for being a fool.
One always takes liberties with those one loves. I felt I loved you enough and you me to need no assurances of form between us, and put by writing to you as a pleasant task that awaited my leisure. While John and Fanny [Allen] were with me I gave myself a complete holyday. Alas! it was but for one short eight days, but it was more than I had expected, and I felt very grateful and satisfied and enjoyed the week extremely. The good spirits they gave me gave me also strength, and I walked with them sometimes near a mile, tho" I had hardly mounted the staircase without help before they came. Both were pleased with their journey, and John spoke in the highest terms of the incomparable companion he found in Fanny. And well he might, for independent of the attention she pays him and all the care she takes of his health and pleasure, she never gives herself any holyday in her efforts to entertain him.
I should not call it effort, for her conversation is rich, flowing, spirited, without the least effort; only I mean if he is tired of reading she is always ready to refresh him, and often puts down her book when she would rather read, or walks with him when she would rather sit still. This constant exercise of her understanding keeps it in great force, and I have no doubt she will preserve its power later than any other person, as well as accomplish herself in being the first companion in the world, and by that be the best consoler in sorrow, and the best comforter in sickness. I bore the parting from them better than I could have hoped. I saw the carriage drive out, with the empty place I once hoped to fill, without flinching. But in this I had no merit, I felt I was not strong enough to travel, and I never long for what I cannot do.
The spring has been beautiful; we have greatly enlarged our garden, we have built a new kitchen, we have made a poultry court. M. Pasteur has given me six fine hens that give us fresh eggs every day. I have fifteen merry little chickens, and I spend a great deal of time among them, so that I have changed my mode of living. I have a much more material existence, and perhaps shall find better health in it. My long sickness has retarded my flower-garden, but I mean henceforward to direct the kitchen-garden also, and now that I have a decent kitchen I shall often be head cook. The misfortune is that Sis is no gourmand; he will not thank me for my dainties, or know them as such, and I shall have little encouragement.
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Madame Sismondi.
MAER, June 1st, 1828.
... I do love your Sis with all my heart for his kindness in pressing you to invite Edward to your house. Poor lad, I felt very sorry for him during the squally visit I had at Roehampton.1 ... Caroline [Drewe] bothered herself by asking advice after she had acted. I do believe as a general maxim it is far better not to ask advice on most occasions. I am afraid we made her a little angry (certainly we disappointed her) by not being able to see M. Prévost's offer, of taking the young ones in, and making them an allowance, in a very odious point of view; as it seems to us (that is to Jos, Elizabeth, and me) a very natural offer, where money was the obstacle, to remove it if possible; and whatever you may please to think, my Jess, as to her being in love, I dare say her father thinks her éperdument. When I put myself in their place, I cannot feel that I should think much of pleasing the Drewes.
1 Lady Gifford, Edward Drewe's sister, lived at Roehampton, and Mrs Drewe was often there.
Jos went to London to-day about selling his house in York Street.2 He has long been thinking of doing so, as it has not answered for some years, but the procrastination natural to an uncertain step has hitherto stopt him. I don't know whether it is a prudent thing or not, for I really am in entire ignorance of Jos's finances, nor do I believe he knows his own income, but he says the produce of the works was deficient in a very large sum last year. Still he is so perfectly at his ease that I am not afraid. I don't believe we are in any danger, and I believe if we were to be much poorer than we are, it would take very little from the happiness of any of us. My poor Hal is the one I feel most anxious about. I begin to despair of his making anything like a competence at the bar, and I believe he has set his heart upon his cousin [Jessie Wedgwood], as many others have done before him in vain. Hensleigh is I think very heart whole, but he is much more likely to succeed in his profession. He has two or three years more in store and he is more industrious; I believe also he has more talent. It is a great thing for us that with four grown-up sons they are none of them extravagant. What should we do if they were? Frank is an excellent fellow, he is rightminded, steady, and just what an English merchant (if you can call him such) ought to be, exact to punctilio in all his dealings, active and industrious. My daughters are also excellent. As I conceal nothing from you, I may confess that my hopes of seeing them happily settled in life diminish every year, and are now grown very flat. But these are worldly views, and I hope they will also every year give way to something better, and if we cannot turn the tide of prosperity our own way, I hope we may learn to be content without it. All this is under the rose. They are all too greedy after any letters of yours to let me easily keep them to myself; therefore take no notice. You will I daresay have heard from Jenny [Mrs John Wedgwood] from Havre. I am very sorry they are gone abroad, because I fear the expense for them and they do not know how to do upon a little. I am a little vexed and mortified that they have given up all thoughts of settling in Staffordshire. Jenny and I have lived many years in close neighbourhood without the shadow of disagreement or coolness, and I should like to have tried once more and finished our lives so. Many loves from here to you and Sis, and pray give my love to poor Ned. Ever yours, dearest of the dear, E. W.
2 The London show-rooms. It was on the east side of the southern end of the street and afterwards became a chapel. Mr Stopford Brooke preached there for many years. It was sold for £16,000.
The John Wedgwoods were a much-wandering family. In the summer of this year they were at Honfleur in Normandy, and by the autumn in Geneva, where they remained, either with or near the Sismondis, for about eight months. In the summer of 1829 they were in Italy, and on getting back to England settled themselves for a time in a house, "The Hill," near Abergavenny.
In June 1828 the Drewe-Prévost engagement ended by the lovers marrying. Bessy, in the many discussions on this subject, was characteristically calm as compared with the impetuous Jessie. After their marriage the breeze calmed down, so far at least as the letters show, and Adèle was warmly welcomed by her mother-in-law when they came to England.
The Mackintoshes had now made a home at Clapham near their friends the Thorntons. Harriet Surtees, who visited all her sisters in her widowhood, was described as having recovered her health and beauty. Kitty Mackintosh persuaded her to leave off her widow's cap and curl her hair again. Bessy wrote (Dec. 4, 1828): "Mr Henry Thornton is her great admirer, and says she has the sweetest expression when she speaks and smiles that he ever saw, and a gentleness and timidity of manner that is very charming."
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Madame Sismondi.
MAER, Oct. 6, 1828.
We have had John [Allen] with us for a fortnight, and he was as cheerful and as agreeable as ever I saw him; there are three of our family that never grow old, and he is one.1 It happened, as usual, that we had the house full of cousins, but I contrived to get a little driving and a little riding with John, very much to my satisfaction, and in the evening he always seemed pleased with the girls" music. My own anxious heart sometimes played its usual tricks in damping my own enjoyment, under my fears of not making it agreeable to him, but this is a malady of my own which I believe will never leave me.
1 Meaning, I believe, besides her brother, Jane Wedgwood and Jessie Sismondi.
Jos makes a very comfortable report of the Mackintoshes" house at Clapham, and I think it is the best hit they have made at all. I am particularly pleased that Fanny [Mackintosh] is fallen into friendship with the Thorntons and Inglises, as they are very good people. She writes here very often and her letters are particularly agreeable. I may well be interested about her, for I think she and Hensleigh will never help falling in love with each other, so much as they are together.
Emma is going down with Miss Morgan to pay a visit to the Miss Aclands at Clifton. Her manners are in her favour, and she is more popular than any of my girls. Her manners to men are very much to my taste, for they are easy and undesigning without coquetry. Charlotte is too distant, and Fanny a little stiff. Elizabeth is very agreeable in my eyes, but she wants personal attraction, and she and Charlotte give way to the two young ones in amusements and going out....
About this visit of Emma's to Clifton, Catherine Darwin wrote (28 Sept., 1828), "I have no doubt your going to Clifton will answer to you, as you have an unfeigned passion for gaiety and novelty in my opinion."
In the winter of 1828–9, the Wedgwoods had for the first time a regular pair of carriage horses, which was a great pleasure to Bessy, and Emma wrote to her aunt Jessie that her mother will "tire the roads driving about." It seems strange that living with so much comfort and exercising so much hospitality this luxury should not have been hers till she was 64 years old.
In March 1829 Bessy went up to London with her husband, staying a night at his lodgings in Palace Yard, and going on the next day to visit Lady Mackintosh at Clapham. Hensleigh came to act the part of a daughter to her, and do her little errands. His mother wrote: "Dear Hensleigh, I don't wonder some people like him, he is so sociable and so pleasant. He has just been buying me a sash and a watch-ribbon to save me the going out, which I never like to do in London except in my coach."
After the visit to Clapham, Bessy went to her niece Lady Gifford at Roehampton. While there she had a mysterious seizure from which it was feared at first she would not recover. The anxiety about her illness continued for some time, and they were thankful as soon as she was able to return home.
Harry Wedgwood to his sister Emma.
19th June [1829].
MY DEAR EMMA,
... Jos will carry you this, having taken his dose of dissipation with the rest of the world, I don't think he has seen much, certainly not when compared with the never-enough-to-be-sufficiently-fatigued Darwins and even they have not seen the first of all London sights, Greenwich. I had the melancholy task of seeing them out of London and though Susan had hypocritically dressed herself in black, a merrier parting never took place—the young ladies were all in roars of laughter as they came downstairs and we drove off for Islington in a coronetted Jarvey; as we came through Oxford Street I saw a chariot with better horses (ours were miserable) so I tumbled them both out into the street with their bags etc. in their hands and trans-shipped them—the Jarvey must have thought it a manœuvre to puzzle pursuers. At Islington we drank tea in a lively apartment looking down five different roads and there I washed my hands of them. Edward Holland did not come back from Glostershire till the next day, when he was pleased to express his regret at not having returned before their departure in very handsome terms. Neither of them will ever be mistress of Dumbleton, nor you nor I either. I am sure that he will make an alliance in Glostershire. As to his two sisters I have seen more of them lately than ever and I have made up my mind that if Mrs Holland should object to let me have both of them—but this is premature. Last Thursday I went to the uproar [opera] with a party which would have been a very pleasant one but in came Miss Defil and she played the devil with the party for a more odious little piece of clockwork I never saw; she neither smiled nor sneezed nor "asked if our tea was to our liking," and I will lay 10 to a little, that when they come to cut her up under the new anatomy bill they will find that her heart beats with a horizontal escapement. Malibran was Susannah and Sontag the Countess. Hensleigh and one of the Mr Defils came up from the Pit (where Devils are generally supposed to come from); this one seems to me to think Charlotte Holland worth cultivating, which pleases her; the worst thing about him is that he says ve'y cu'ious if you know what that means, but perhaps that may be only his spring voice for Greenwood tells me that all the men who come to town in the spring leave their country voices behind them with their velveteen jackets. Conclusion: I hate all male and female cockneys and, as Goldsmith says, "my heart unmetropolized fondly turns to" my country cousins. There never was any one so improved as Catherine [Darwin]. Even in looks, as well as internal matters, she stands very high in my list. I always thought Cuthbert Romilly an ass but his saying that young ladies are worth nothing after 18 shows that he is the grandfather of stupidity himself.... I envy you two things at this season the peonies and the aunts. I am afraid they will both be out of season and gone when I get home, which I mean to do on the 7th July for a bankruptcy meeting. Give my love to all. I have ordered skulls,1 do you want any brains? Your affectionate brother H. A. W.
1 Probably sculls for the boats on Maer Pool.
Madame Sismondi to her niece Emma Wedgwood.
CHÊNE, July 9th, 1829.
At last I have time to thank you, dearest little Emma, for your sweet letter. It gave me great pleasure in many ways. First and foremost that your affection to me is so vivid that you need the expressing of it now and then. Be certain that you excite my gratitude and warm my love to you whenever I see your handwriting, and read your affectionate expressions. We returned last Sunday evening from "sending" the John Wedgwoods, if you know the Cresselly expression, as far as Interlaken. I enjoyed the journey while with them exceedingly, in spite of much bad weather. The return I was more than melancholy, so that the rain, which poured on us for the greatest part of the way, was indifferent to me. After I had got back to Thun, I found I might have finished the day with my beloveds without prolonging our stay from home, and without increasing our expenses. I was in despair and odiously disagreeable to Sis for the greatest part of the way back. My spirits began to cheer at Bulle, and from Château St Denis to Vevay I was again in great enjoyment. But that was Saturday afternoon, and I had been odious since Wednesday one o'clock, when I parted from the dear ones who had made the last 8 months so happy, and who had cured me of all my ails. On Sunday we returned from Vevay in the steamboat, having been absent ten days and spent sixteen napoleons. My good health gives me now such strong spirits that little makes me gay and nothing long sad. Lady Davy1 came a few hours after our return. I suffered her to go away to her inn without inviting her to return to us. I fancied I saw that she was disappointed; it is painful to disappoint people's expectation of you, and I felt uneasy; and yesterday when we dined with her at her inn and saw that she was melancholy, solitary, nervous, I prest her to return to us, and she comes on Saturday to breakfast. If the weather permits we are going another little tour with her.
1 Lady Davy had been a widow a few months. Her late husband, Sir Humphry Davy, the famous chemist, was an early friend of Josiah and Tom Wedgwood, who made his acquaintance in 1797, when he was only a doctor's boy at Penzance, and he afterwards helped Tom in his photographic work. Lady Davy was a olever and brilliant woman and made a figure in London society. She was a brunette of brunettes, and Sydney Smith, one of her admirers, used to say she was "as brown as a dry toast." Faraday said of her, her temper made "it oftentimes go wrong with me, with herself and with Sir Humphry." She died in 1855.
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Emma Allen.
MAER, Sept. 3rd, 1829.
... Jessie [Wedgwood] is I think prettier than I ever saw her, and she really is uncommonly pretty. She went with us to the Archery on Thursday last, and was very much admired; and what is more, she got the first prize, a beautiful pair of earrings. I had the three prizes in my possession at setting out, in right of my office of Lady Patroness, and I narrowly escaped bringing them all back again as I did before, but luckily by a little juggling between Fanny and Emma, they contrived to let Mrs Meeke in for the last prize. Fanny was entitled to the two first prizes, but it being a law that they were not to go to the same person, Fanny made her election for the second prize, which gave Jessie the first. It is comical enough that even a visitor at Maer should be so successful, as in the case of both Jessie and Miss Acland. As for Fanny and Emma, they are quite dragonesses, but nothing pleased me so much in their success, as the sincerity with which they tried to waive their glories in favour of the other competitors; and nothing pleased my little Emma so much as losing the second prize which was so near being judged in her favour. Perhaps they carried their scruples further than necessary, but there was a delicacy in the feeling that I could not but feel pleased with. Miss Acland is gone, very much to my satisfaction, but don't tell Harry I said so. Flirting girls are dreadful bad company, and make everybody that comes within their influence very bad company also.... Jenny received a letter from Jessie last week, in which she describes her sufferings at not having heard from any of us in almost frantic terms; and it has put me on the stool of repentance for my part of the neglect. Her feelings turned upon not hearing from Harriet for twenty days after the 1st of August, when she said she was positively to begin her journey. Jessie was convinced that she was either dead, or too ill to begin her journey. I am really very sorry that our Jessie is so much the victim of her feelings, and these feelings are unreasonable, for if either of these two misfortunes had happened she must have heard. She said that when the first letter (after 7 weeks) came from Jenny, she tore it all to pieces in her nervous efforts to open it; and for some time she could not read it for tears. I take blame to myself for having been so long in writing, but then I had no conception but that she was hearing within the usual intervals from some one or other of us. She now proposes that we should all write at stated times, and she has allotted me the 15th, or from that to the 20th of each month, and I intend to follow that suggestion and begin from this present month....
Madame Sismondi to Elizabeth Wedgwood.
CHÊNE, October 16 [1829].
You have probably seen in the newspapers what a loss Geneva and we have had in the death of Dumont. The loss is irreparable and we are in despair. The body was embalmed and brought here and buried on Tuesday, the whole town following as mourners. I never knew a mind so rich, a conversation so inexhaustible, a person so full of anecdote, of which he never repeated, not indeed enough to please my taste. I like a twice-told tale very much. The ranks of those I love thin most rapidly here, and there are none rising to fill their places. We are in great anxiety for Mme de Staël's1 little one; it is dangerously ill. I saw her a short time before she set out for Broglie, hanging so fondly over it, saying it was more than life to her, laying before us all her plans for his education and happiness. She appeared to me so amiable, so sensible, I envied her for Caroline [Drewe] since she had come so near her for her daughter-in-law. The child had fallen downstairs and though he was not hurt at all, she had been long unwell from terror. I feel so interested for her I cannot help mingling her in my prayers for those I love, in this cruel trial. Harriet [Surtees] received a letter from Fanny Mackintosh from Broglie. I admire Fanny M.'s letters very much, they are simple, very sensible, very affectionate, and agreeable from a constant appearance of good and right feeling in them. She and her father were also without letters from Kitty,2 so that I cannot guess what is become of her. I think she must be on the road....
1 The daughter-in-law of the famous Mme de Staël. Edward Drewe had been attracted by her, as Mlle Vernet before her marriage, during his long stay in Geneva (1826–7).
2 Lady Mackintosh was much out of health and was coming to stay with Mme de Sismondi.
I think Harriet much improved in looks since she has been here, her oldness begins to wear off a little. It might perhaps have been a good deal owing to the journey, for nothing gives so worn a look as travelling. During my ill health, it was often a pleasure to me to feel myself the weakest part of the chain. I have lost that pleasure now, but in revenge I have such a feeling of well-being, of gaiety, youth, health, etc. I cannot regret it: I can regret nothing. I have not had such feelings since long before I left Cresselly for the first time. Harriet is so associated with the merriment, folly, nonsense of my childhood, that she has brought it all back to me; and a wise person would sometimes think us drunk, if they heard all the nonsense and laughter we give way to. Sismondi looks astonished, confounded, tho" pleased, and asks the meaning of things to which there is none. That passes his comprehension, but he laughs nevertheless from our merriment. Dearest little Sad, she is not a bit afraid of him, and I trust will recover her nerves entirely in such perfect repose as she will find here from all that can agitate her. She has no dislike at all to our soirées, she makes tea for me sometimes, and looks tranquil and at her ease at them. We begin now to be solitary, and I expect no company for the next three months. It is a time of year I enjoy exceedingly....
In November Harry Wedgwood's long courtship of his cousin, Jessie Wedgwood, was crowned with success.
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Emma Allen.
2 6 Nov. 1829.
... Harry will now have a stronger motive than ever he had before to apply, and I am sure he will be content with a little if he can make her happy, which I hope to God he will do....
My little Emma is gone up with Harry to pay Fanny Mackintosh a visit, and I have only just heard of her arrival at Clapham, and seeing the dining-room all lighted up as she drove into the court, and the Historian himself in full discourse (as she saw through the window) with a party of gentlemen. Emma, however, desired to be shown up to Mrs Rich's room [Fanny's step-sister], where she had a very comfortable cup of tea and dish of chat with her. Fanny came up to ask Emma whether she would come down and see Mr Wilberforce and Mr Whishaw and Mr R. Grant, all which she declined, and I dare say Mackintosh thought her a great fool for doing so....
Mrs Josiah Wedgwood to her sister Madame Sismondi.
MAER, Feb. 15, 1830.
... Jos is gone to London but he did not leave a very flourishing house behind, most of the family being more or less teased with colds. Charlotte's is the worst, having been confined a fortnight, and she is now sitting up on the sopha in her Night-Cap and Bed-gown, looking the goodest person you ever saw, and reading Lovers" Vows1 for the improvement of her mind.
1 The Lover's Vows is the play acted in Mansfield Park. "Do not act anything improper, my dear, Sir Thomas would not like it. Fanny, ring the bell; I must have my dinner," said Lady Bertram, when it was under discussion.
Harry very often comes over to see us, and seems very content in making his preparations there1 at a snail's pace. I wish he may succeed in making it comfortable for Jessie, but one of his last performances has been buying a new hearth-rug for the dining-room, black and white, and by his own account it looks like a pall—I think I must take it off his hands. I am reading Madame de Maintenon's letters, and though I have neither respect nor admiration for her character, I find so many sentiments and feelings that I have myself experienced, that I find a good deal of enjoyment in running through them.
1 At Etruria Hall, where they were to live, shutting up what rooms they did not need. They married in October, 1830.
I have the greatest love and admiration of Eliza's character, yet I own it has not been raised by the manner in which she has seemed to feel her sister's marriage, because it seems to me so unreasonable. If two sisters live together one must marry first, or both must remain single for the other's sake, which would be a preposterous supposition....
The following letter is undated but may be put at about 1830. In that year Catherine Darwin was 20 and Susan 27 years old. The Owens of Woodhouse, as has been said, were intimate friends of the Darwins.
Catherine Darwin to her cousin Emma Wedgwood.
SHREWSBURY, Saturday.
MY DEAR EMMA,
Susan and I are just returned from our rackety week, and my head is in a most rackety state. As my frank is for to-morrow,1 it will be very pleasant to send you a true and sober account of it all. Tuesday, I took Susan to Woodhouse and then went on to Tedesmere,2 where I found but a small party, as they had had various disappointments.
1 A member of Parliament franking a letter was bound to write on it the date (in words), and the name of the addressee, and the frank was good for that date only.
2 The Bulkeley Owens.
I was so comfortably at my ease from being the only young lady, and it was so little formal, that I rather enjoyed it. I had a most delightful ball and danced every dance as long as I was there. I found the Woodhouse immense party great comforts, and not at all formidable. Certainly an Oswestry ball is far better than the Shrewsbury ones. It is a little room and nobody is formal, no grandees, and always plenty of gentlemen, that first of all considerations. The next morning I was delighted to change the Baron's abode for Woodhouse. The Owens sent their pony carriage over for me. There was an immense party there. We had all kinds of games and dancing till 12, when Mr Owen instantly dissolved the party. They were all rather tired after the ball, and I did not myself think it half so delightful as it describes, and I suspect nothing ever is so pleasant in reality as it is in description. It is hardly possible for common mortals in my opinion to wind up their spirits to the Woodhouse pitch; more than half the gentlemen indeed were a little too much stimulated. I enjoyed a great deal of it however very much, and there was a great deal of laughing and fun. There was the most immense party at dinner on Friday. There were a number of people invited to dinner, under the belief that the former party in the house would be gone by that time, but when Friday morning came the Owens pressed the Leightons and us so much to stay that we did till to-day. It was a grand puzzle how in the world to dine 29; it was at last settled to have two side-tables, each of 6; 2 gentlemen, a President and Vice-President, and 4 ladies. We drew lots for our places, and each had a ticket; the rival side-tables betted who could make most noise. Of course each party stand up for themselves; we certainly had famous fun this evening. There were quantities of waltzing, dancing, games, etc. till about 1, when the Leightons drove home to Shrewsbury. The whole party I should think must be pretty well fagged to-day, as this has gone on for nearly a week. Fanny Owen was the belle. I do not wonder, for I never saw such a charming girl altogether as she is. Susan was in her glory and in violent spirits. She would call this a most unfair account of things if she was to see it, and would send you a far more flaming description. I should think that I enjoyed it about half as much as she did. At last my journal is come to an end. I have just heard from Charles to say that he comes home on Monday, and I am so glad to find that he likes the Foxes as much as I did, as he says, "that they are all perfect." I am afraid you will hear as much about them from him, as you did from me. Good-bye, dear Emma, my best love to my dear old Fan.
Ever yours, E. C. DARWIN.
I have just been talking to Susan over our gay doings and she has just said "what a delightful visit I have had. I never enjoyed anything like it—so gay—we never talked a word of common sense all day." Guaranteed by me. Susan gives leave for this anecdote.
My father told many stories of all that went on at Wood-house. He was very fond of all the Owens, and he had evidently been greatly attracted by Fanny Owen. He told me once how charming she looked when she insisted on firing off one of their guns, and showed no sign of pain though the kick made her shoulder black and blue. I was then only a child, but I can still remember the expression of his face, and the very place where he stood in Stonyfield at Down. He was a great favourite with Mr Owen, a peppery and despotic squire of the old school.1 The household was large and not always very orderly. Mr Owen used to hear, or imagined he heard, people walking about late at night; so he determined to trap them and piled up a mass of crockery at the top of the stairs. Hearing a noise late at night, he went out to catch the offender and be ready for the crash, but forgetting exactly where his trap was laid, himself sent all the crockery flying down the stairs, causing Mrs Owen to laugh so much that he went into a furious passion. Another of my father's stories was of how Mr Owen heard a noise of some sort in the middle of the night, and got up and looked out of his window. There he saw a woman sitting on some steps leading into the garden. So he went off to call one of his sons known as a fleet runner, and told him to go and catch this unknown woman. As soon as they approached the window, off set the woman and off set young Mr Owen after her. But as he got near, he perceived it was one of the under-servants, and telling her to run for her life, he promised he would not catch her, knowing that she would be dismissed on the spot if he brought her back. Great, as may be imagined, was Mr Owen's wrath and scorn when his son came back alone, much blown, and saying he hadn't been able to catch the girl. Her story was that she had come home too late and was sitting outside till the morning. The truth was never revealed to Mr Owen.
1 I was told that he once thrashed one of his grown-up sons so severely that his son was in bed for a fortnight.
The following letter illustrates the increased luxury in our habits of living. It must be remembered that Dr Darwin was earning at this time a large income.
Catherine Darwin to her cousin Fanny Wedgwood.
SHREWSBURY, Thursday Evening [Dec., 1830].
... There is a spell in this house against my being ever really and deliciously quiet. I cannot help being all day long in a fidget and a bustle and making myself a great many little things to think of. I am sure you will feel the full delight for me of what Papa has very good-naturedly given me leave to have; a fire for the morning in his Bedroom upstairs, which I have made very snug. I have only had my Boudoir one morning, and then did enjoy it supremely. I found the Dining Room quite unbearable, so desolate—and this scheme is not quite so extravagant as it sounds, as I hope there will not be a fire in the Dining Room, when we are quite alone, till dinner time. I feel myself bound to make all apologies for such a piece of indulgence....
