in the executorship were, it seems (but I knew it not), every one dead, when this stock was sold; and the name of poor H. L. Piozzi answers for all at the distance of fifteen years. If Mr. K— ever crosses your way, do tell him I am an honest creature, incapable of wronging even a fly. My husband's illness, and my attendance on him who took up my whole heart and thought, did I suppose obliterate the transaction from my mind; which certainly does retain no trace of it. * Your duty as Secretary to the Lord Great Chamberlain of England will now become less irksome, I hope, and friendship may have her share of your active beneficence; your dear sister is silent, but I am willing to believe pleasure helps detain her from her pen. Conway is in high favor at Bath, the papers say; so indeed do private letters. That young man's value. will be one day properly appreciated; and then you and I will be found to have been quite right all along. Tell me about Miss Wilson meanwhile, and whether 't is somewhat in the Billington style, that she is excelling all the world so. My heart tells me 't is a long continued warble like hers which ever fascinates both skilful and unskilful critics; and which is more the gift of nature than of art. But I hate reasoning down our own enjoyments; 't is like burning down rubies in a concave glass: the French never do it, and you will soon visit them, I dare say. En attendant je vous souhaite, Monsieur it was a bishop's wish you know - Paris en ce monde, Paradis en l'autre. To Miss Willoughby. No. 10 Sion Row, Clifton, vanity I suppose 16 March, 1821. that dear Miss SOMETHING tells me Willoughby will be glad to hear I am where I wish to be, on the sweet Gloucestershire Downs, numberless old acquaintance, and some new, kindly expressing pleasure at my return. Poor Mrs, Yorke, £10,000 richer than when we parted; ten years older, * Lord Gwydir. and all in ten months' time; Mrs. Lambart's death, Sir Philip Jennings's sister, caused the alteration. Our friend Conway is not younger; he won't play Master Slender now; his enquiries after you were very kind indeed, and he rejoyced for my sake that Penzance was your chosen retreat. O, how he regrets his -Lesserillo! But Mr. Green has secured £ 500 per annum, with an agreeable woman, and must not, for shame, lament the profession, which will not soon cease to lament him. The benefits are thin I hear, but that for which we are interested gives good hope. Monday, 26th, will be the day, and Mirandola, with the Chevalier de Moranges, the night's entertainment. I have seen the future footman; he will at worst be better than poor James, I suppose who is gone to Bath now on a frolic: Bessy tearing her hair, and Mrs. Pennington exhausting all her eloquence in expressions of wrath and anger. It is almost time to tell you what a providence watched over your old friend at Exeter, after my letter was written, at three o'clock, Sunday morning. The bed was very high, and getting into it, I set my foot on a light chair, which flew from the pressure, and revenged it on my leg in a terrible manner. The wonder is, no bones were broken; only a cruel bruise and slight tear, and we trotted on hither, after cathedral service, at which I hardly could kneel to thank God for my escape. So Sir John may look to my demise now at his leisure, and my legacy [leg I see]. "Not a mouse stirring," the French translators of Hamlet rendered, "Je n'ai pas entendu un souris trotter." Our mouse could not trot without your assistance; with it, he performed his journey beautifully; though I did feel a horrid pang about my own imprudence, running into a dirty cottage on the road, full of the small-pox. Long live vaccination, however, and Dr. Jenner who first devised it. Sunday, 18. Here is a storm worthy of Mount's Bay; your billows must roar finely this morning. Bessy would not trust me to church, I should have been blown down the hill, she says. So since Mr. Le Gris's blessing has helped bring me safe hither, I must not press it further, but sit pretty and put my leg upon a chair, instead of my foot. Was not it a horrid accident? and in the dead of the night so! Dr. Forbes will be very sorry, for poor H. L. P., always a blue, now a black and blue, lady, bruised, say you, from top to toe?" My Lord, from head to foot." The pet books, sent by waggon from Penzance (Pascoe's cart carried them), are not arrived yet. The ship things all came safe. To Sir James Fellowes. YOUR letter only came last night. 24 March, 1821, Sunday Morning. My dear Sir James Fellowes, though a tardy correspondent, is always a kind one. True it is, that your sister has seduced me to dine with her on Tuesday next; and rejoyce in our friend Conway's success, which I hope to witness on Monday evening. True it is, that I arrived at Clifton on the 12th March, escaping the stormy equinox, which must have shaken poor Penzance to the foundation. It is built upon the sand, so no wonder. True it is, that I hope to shew myself to you unimpaired, as to appearance; but my value will be lessened because I have broken my shin. Is not that the case now and then with a quick goer? Sleeping in Russel Street, however, would not do. I have asked Miss Williams to dine with Mrs. Pennington and me at the Elephant and Castle, where I will set up my repose, and keep my 1. e. g my elegy - in good repair. Mrs. Pennington is quite poetical, always eloquent on that, and every subject. Since my arrival at Sion Hill, - for there I occupy a lodging till my house in the Crescent is ready, two parcels directed by tying friends, have given me a mournful sensation: they are letters written by me to them in distant days, I know not how happy. You will have to look them over after my death, and I dare say they are better than those I write now. My intention, however, is not to be in haste: though Salusbury seemed to apprehend his journey would be long and expensive if I died at Pen zance. So here is poor aunt at the embouchure of his favorite River Severn, and here he may come after (the 10th of July) to look after the demise and the legacy [leg I see]; but he must stay away till I have put my house in order.* "On the day following the date of this letter, which was the last I received from Mrs. Piozzi, I called at the Castle and Elephant at Bath, and found her and Mrs. Pennington. She was in high spirits, joking about the l. e. g. She dined with my father and sister, at No. 7 Russell Street, and was throughout the evening the admiration of the company, amongst whom were Mrs. Pennington, the lady so often mentioned in Anna Seward's correspondence as the beautiful and agreeable Sophia Weston; Admiral Sir Henry Bayntun, G. C. B., a distinguished naval officer at the battle of Trafalgar; Mr. Lutwyche (Mr. Lutwyche's house in Marlborough-buildings was celebrated for its hospitality, and as the resort of all the most agreeable society at Bath. Mrs. L. was the daughter of Sir Noah Thomas, a baronet and distinguished physician); and Mr. Conway, the actor, who was held in high estimation for his excellent private character. He fell overboard and was drowned on his passage from New York." - Sir J. Fellowes. |