- Letters of Jane Austen, Brabourne edition
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- Letters of Jane Austen to her sister Cassandra Austen
- 1800, 1801. [THIS FILE]
- Letters to Fanny Knight 1814-1816
- Letters to Anna Austen Lefroy, 1814-1816
- Letters from Cassandra Austen to Fanny Knight, 1817
- Poetry, Backwards letter
THESE are all addressed to Godmersham, where Cassandra was
staying with her brother Edward. "Heathcote and Chute forever,"
in the first letter (No. 22), refers to the two Conservative members,
who again stood and were returned without a contest in 1802.
Mr. William Chute, of the Vine, in the parish of Sherborn St. John,
Basingstoke, was a mighty fox-hunter, and the founder of the celebrated
pack which has since been called by the name of his house.
He was elected M. P. for Hants in 1795. Camden mentions this
seat in the following laudatory words, after the description
of Basing House: --
"Neere unto this house, the Vine sheweth itselfe, a very faire place,
and mansion house of the Baron Sands, so named of the vines there,
which wee have had in Britaine, since Probus the emperour's time,
rather for shade than fruit. For, hee permitted the Britaines
to have vines.
The first of these Barons was Sir William Sands, whom King Henry
the Eighth advanced to that dignitie, being Lord Chamberlaine unto him,
and having much amended his estate by marrying Margerie Bray,
daughter and heire of John Bray, and cousin to Sir Reinold Bray, a most
worthy Knight of the Order of the Garter, and a right noble Banneret:
whose son Thomas Lord Sands was grandfather to William L. Sands
that now liveth."
Warner has, in his "History of Hampshire," an interesting
account of this place and of the Sands family, concluding thus:
"About 1654, the ancient family mansion of the Vine, together with
the estate, was sold, in those unhappy times, to Chaloner Chute,
Esq., a lawyer, who, in 1656, was returned member for Middlesex;
and again for the same place in the Parliament of Richard Cromwell;
and also Speaker of the House, but from the anxiety of his mind
respecting the tumults, he was so ill, that the Parliament chose
another Speaker, until his health should be re-established;
but that never happened: he dying April 15, 1659." Anthony Chute,
says Warner, "stood the famous contested election for the county"
in 1734, and afterwards sat for Yarmouth and subsequently for Newport
in the Isle of Wight. A collateral branch of Chutes, from Norfolk,
came into this property in 1776.
An allusion in letter No. 24 (written November 20, 1800) to James
Digweed's compliment to Cassandra respecting the fall of two elms,
suggests the quotation from a letter published by Mr. Austen Leigh,
of the date of November 8, in that same year: -- "Sunday evening.
We have had a dreadful storm of wind in the fore-part of this
day which has done a great deal of mischief among our trees.
I was sitting alone in the dining-room when an odd kind
of crash startled me; in a moment afterwards it was repeated.
I then went to the window, which I reached just in time to see
the last of our two highly valued elms descend into the sweep;
the other, which had fallen, I suppose, in the first crash,
and which was the nearest to the pond, taking a more easterly direction,
sank among our screen of chestnuts and firs, knocking down one
spruce fir, breaking off the head of another, and stripping
the two corner chestnuts of several branches in its fall.
This is not all. One large elm out of the two on the left-hand
side as you enter what I call the elm walk was likewise blown down;
the maple bearing the weather-cock was broke in two, and what I
regret more than all the rest is, that all the three elms which grew
in Hall's meadow and gave such ornament to it are gone; two were
blown down, and the other so much injured that it cannot stand.
I am happy to add, however, that no greater evil than the loss
of the trees has been the consequence of the storm in this place,
or in our immediate neighbourhood; we grieve, therefore, in some comfort."
In this same twenty-fourth letter occurs the sentence, "You and
George walking to Eggerton!" Eggerton, or more properly Eggarton,
was an old manor-house near Godmersham, on the other side of the river.
It formerly belonged -- that is to say, so long ago as the reign of
Queen Elizabeth -- to the Scots of Scot's Hall, from whose possession it
passed through several hands until it came into those of the Gott family,
one of whom left it to the co-heiresses of William Western Hugessen
of Provender; and when these two ladies married respectively
Sir Edward Knatchbull (my grandfather) and Sir Joseph Banks,
this property was sold to Jane, a sister of Mr. Thomas Knight.
Another of his sisters, Mrs. Elizabeth Knight, was of weak intellect,
and after the two sisters had resided first at Bilting,
she was moved to Eggarton, a larger and more convenient house,
and two lady attendants, Miss Cuthbert and her sister Maria,
were engaged to look after her, which they did for many years.
It was to these ladies that the visits from Godmersham were paid.
Eggarton House stood on the east side of Godmersham, in the parish
of Crundale, near a wood, which went by the name of Purr Wood,
and was eventually pulled down by my grandfather, Mr. Knight,
who did not care to let it, being so near Godmersham.
The twenty-fifth letter is almost entirely taken up with remarks
upon the preparations for leaving Steventon and settling at Bath.
which event occurred in 1801, and does not seem to have been
regretted by Jane as much as one would have expected.
But the fact is that she was very little dependent upon the world
outside her own family, and carried with her wherever she went
occupations and resources of her own which did not require to be
supplemented by extraneous assistance. Her home was wherever
her own people were, and whether at Steventon, Bath, or elsewhere,
her cheerful temperament was even and unvaried, and assured her own
happiness as well as that of those with whom she lived.
The other letters in this division do not seem to require
Steventon: Saturday evening (October 25).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
I am not yet able to acknowledge the receipt of any parcel
from London, which I suppose will not occasion you much surprise.
I was a little disappointed to-day, but not more so than is
perfectly agreeable, and I hope to be disappointed again to-morrow,
as only one coach comes down on Sundays.
You have had a very pleasant journey of course and have found Elizabeth
and all the children very well on your arrival at Godmersham,
and I congratulate you on it. Edward is rejoicing this evening,
I dare say, to find himself once more at home, from which he fancies
he has been absent a great while. His son left behind him the very
fine chestnuts which had been selected for planting at Godmersham,
and the drawing of his own which he had intended to carry to George;
the former will therefore be deposited in the soil of Hampshire instead
of Kent, the latter I have already consigned to another element.
We have been exceedingly busy ever since you went away.
In the first place we have had to rejoice two or three times every
day at your having such very delightful weather for the whole of
your journey, and in the second place we have been obliged to take
advantage of the very delightful weather ourselves by going to see
almost all our neighbours.
On Thursday we walked to Deane, yesterday to Oakley Hall and Oakley,
and to-day to Deane again. At Oakley Hall we did a great deal --
eat some sandwiches all over mustard, admired Mr. Bramston's porter,
and Mrs. Bramston's transparencies, and gained a promise from the latter
of two roots of heartsease, one all yellow and the other all purple,
for you. At Oakley we bought ten pair of worsted stockings and a shift;
the shift is for Betty Dawkins, as we find she wants it more than a rug;
she is one of the most grateful of all whom Edward's charity has reached,
or at least she expresses herself more warmly than the rest,
for she sends him a "sight of thanks."
This morning we called at the Harwoods', and in their dining-room
found "Heathcote and Chute forever." Mrs. William Heathcote
and Mrs. Chute -- the first of whom took a long ride yesterday
morning with Mrs. Harwood into Lord Carnarvon's park, and fainted
away in the evening, and the second walked down from Oakley Hall
attended by Mrs. Augusta Bramston; they had meant to come on
to Steventon afterwards, but we knew a trick worth two of that.
If I had thought of it in time, I would have said something
civil to her about Edward's never having had any serious idea
of calling on Mr. Chute while he was in Hampshire; but unluckily
it did not occur to me. Mrs. Heathcote is gone home to-day;
Catherine had paid her an early visit at Deane in the morning,
and brought a good account of Harris.
James went to Winchester Fair yesterday, and bought a new horse,
and Mary has got a new maid -- two great acquisitions; one comes
from Folly farm, is about five years old, used to draw, and thought
very pretty, and the other is niece to Dinah at Kintbury.
James called by my father's desire on Mr. Bayle to inquire into
the cause of his being so horrid. Mr. Bayle did not attempt to deny
his being horrid, and made many apologies for it; he did not plead his
having a drunken self, he talked only of a drunken foreman, &c., and gave
hopes of the tables being at Steventon on Monday se'nnight next.
We have had no letter since you left us, except one from Mr. Serle
of Bishopstoke to inquire the character of James Elton.
Our whole neighbourhood is at present very busy grieving
over poor Mrs. Martin, who has totally failed in her business,
and had very lately an execution in her house. Her own brother
and Mr. Rider are the principal creditors, and they have seized
her effects in order to prevent other people's doing it.
There has been the same affair going on, we are told, at Wilson's,
and my hearing nothing of you makes me apprehensive that you,
your fellow travellers, and all your effects, might be seized
by the bailiffs when you stopt at the house, and sold altogether
for the benefit of the creditors.
In talking of Mr. Deedes' new house, Mrs. Bramston told us
one circumstance, which, that we should be ignorant of it before,
must make Edward's conscience fly into his face; she told us that one
of the sitting rooms at Sandling, an oval room, with a bow at one end,
has the very remarkable and singular feature of a fireplace with a window,
the centre window of the bow, exactly over the mantel-piece.
Sunday. -- This morning's unpromising aspect makes it absolutely
necessary for me to observe once more how peculiarly fortunate you
have been in your weather, and then I will drop the subject forever.
Our improvements have advanced very well; the bank along the elm
wall is sloped down for the reception of thorns and lilacs, and it
is settled that the other side of the path is to continue turfed,
and to be planted with beech, ash, and larch.
Monday. -- I am glad I had no means of sending this yesterday,
as I am now able to thank you for executing my commission so well.
I like the gown very much, and my mother thinks it very ugly.
I like the stockings also very much, and greatly prefer having
two pair only of that quality to three of an inferior sort.
The combs are very pretty, and I am much obliged to you
for your present, but am sorry you should make me so many.
The pink shoes are not particularly beautiful, but they fit me
very well; the others are faultless. I am glad that I have still
my cloak to expect.
Among my other obligations, I must not omit to remember
your writing me so long a letter in a time of such hurry.
I am amused by your going to Milgate at last, and glad that you
have so charming a day for your journey home.
My father approves his stockings very highly, and finds no
fault with any part of Mrs. Hancock's bill except the charge
of 3s. 6d. for the packing-box.
The weather does not know how to be otherwise than fine.
I am surprised that Mrs. Marriot should not be taller.
Surely you have made a mistake. Did Mr. Roland make you look well?
Yours affectionately, J. A.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Saturday November
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
You have written, I am sure, though I have received no letter
from you since your leaving London; the post, and not yourself,
must have been unpunctual.
We have at last heard from Frank; a letter from him to you
came yesterday, and I mean to send it on as soon as I can get a ditto
(that means a frank), which I hope to do in a day or two.
En attendant, you must rest satisfied with knowing that on the 8th
of July the "Petterel," with the rest of the Egyptian squadron,
was off the Isle of Cyprus, whither they went from Jaffa for provisions,
&c., and whence they were to sail in a day or two for Alexandria,
there to wait the result of the English proposals for the evacuation
of Egypt. The rest of the letter, according to the present
fashionable style of composition, is chiefly descriptive.
Of his promotion he knows nothing; of prizes he is guiltless.
Your letter is come; it came, indeed, twelve lines ago, but I could
not stop to acknowledge it before, and I am glad it did not arrive
till I had completed my first sentence, because the sentence had been
made ever since yesterday, and I think forms a very good beginning.
Your abuse of our gowns amuses but does not discourage me;
I shall take mine to be made up next week, and the more I look at it
the better it pleases me. My cloak came on Tuesday, and, though I
expected a good deal, the beauty of the lace astonished me.
It is too handsome to be worn -- almost too handsome to be looked at.
The glass is all safely arrived also, and gives great satisfaction.
The wine-glasses are much smaller than I expected, but I suppose it
is the proper size. We find no fault with your manner of performing
any of our commissions, but if you like to think yourself remiss
in any of them, pray do.
My mother was rather vexed that you could not go to Penlington's,
but she has since written to him, which does just as well.
Mary is disappointed, of course, about her locket, and of course
delighted about the mangle, which is safe at Basingstoke.
You will thank Edward for it on their behalf, &c., &c., and,
as you know how much it was wished for, will not feel that you
are inventing gratitude.
Did you think of our ball on Thursday evening, and did you suppose me
at it? You might very safely, for there I was. On Wednesday morning
it was settled that Mrs. Harwood, Mary, and I should go together,
and shortly afterwards a very civil note of invitation for me came from
Mrs. Bramston, who wrote I believe as soon as as she knew of the ball.
I might likewise have gone with Mrs. Lefroy, and therefore, with three
methods of going, I must have been more at the ball than anyone else.
I dined and slept at Deane; Charlotte and I did my hair, which I
fancy looked very indifferent, nobody abused it, however, and I
retired delighted with my success.
It was a pleasant ball, and still more good than pleasant, for there
were nearly sixty people, and sometimes we had seventeen couple.
The Portsmouths, Dorchesters, Boltons, Portals, and Clerks were there,
and all the meaner and more usual &c., &c.'s. There was a scarcity
of men in general, and a still greater scarcity of any that were
good for much. I danced nine dances out of ten -- five with
Stephen Terry, T. Chute, and James Digweed, and four with Catherine.
There was commonly a couple of ladies standing up together,
but not often any so amiable as ourselves.
I heard no news, except that Mr. Peters, who was not there,
is supposed to be particularly attentive to Miss Lyford.
You were inquired after very prettily, and I hope the whole
assembly now understands that you are gone into Kent,
which the families in general seemed to meet in ignorance of.
Lord Portsmouth surpassed the rest in his attentive recollection
of you, inquired more into the length of your absence, and concluded
by desiring to be "remembered to you when I wrote next."
Lady Portsmouth had got a different dress on, and Lady Bolton
is much improved by a wig. The three Miss Terries were there,
but no Annie; which was a great disappointment to me.
I hope the poor girl had not set her heart on her appearance that
evening so much as I had. Mr. Terry is ill, in a very low way.
I said civil things to Edward for Mr. Chute, who amply returned them
by declaring that, had he known of my brother's being at Steventon,
he should have made a point of calling upon him to thank him for his
civility about the Hunt.
I have heard from Charles, and am to send his shirts by half-dozens as
they are finished; one set will go next week. The "Endymion" is now
waiting only for orders, but may wait for them perhaps a month.
Mr. Coulthard  was unlucky in very narrowly
missing another unexpected guest at Chawton, for Charles had actually set
out and got half way thither in order to spend one day with Edward, but
turned back on discovering the distance to be considerably more than he
had fancied, and finding himself and his horse to be very much tired. I
should regret it the more if his friend Shipley had been of the party,
for Mr. Coulthard might not have been so well pleased to see only one
come at a time.
Miss Harwood is still at Bath, and writes word that she never
was in better health, and never more happy. Joshua Wakeford
died last Saturday, and my father buried him on Thursday.
A deaf Miss Fonnereau is at Ashe, which has prevented Mrs. Lefroy's
going to Worting or Basingstoke during the absence of Mr. Lefroy.
My mother is very happy in the prospect of dressing a new doll
which Molly has given Anna. My father's feelings are not so enviable,
as it appears that the farm cleared 300l. last year.
James and Mary went to Ibthorp for one night last Monday,
and found Mrs. Lloyd not in very good looks. Martha has been
lately at Kintbury, but is probably at home by this time.
Mary's promised maid has jilted her, and hired herself elsewhere.
The Debaries persist in being afflicted at the death of their uncle,
of whom they now say they saw a great deal in London. Love to all.
I am glad George remembers me.
Yours very affectionately, J. A.
I am very unhappy. In re-reading your letter I find I might
have spared myself any intelligence of Charles. To have written
only what you knew before! You may guess how much I feel.
I wore at the ball your favourite gown, a bit of muslin of the same
round my head, bordered with Mrs. Cooper's band, and one little comb.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park.
 Coulthard rented Chawton House at this time.
Steventon: Thursday (November 20).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
Your letter took me quite by surprise this morning; you are
very welcome, however, and I am very much obliged to you.
I believe I drank too much wine last night at Hurstbourne; I know
not how else to account for the shaking of my hand to-day. You will
kindly make allowance therefore for any indistinctness of writing,
by attributing it to this venial error.
Naughty Charles did not come on Tuesday, but good Charles came
yesterday morning. About two o'clock he walked in on a Gosport hack.
His feeling equal to such a fatigue is a good sign, and his feeling
no fatigue in it a still better. He walked down to Deane to dinner;
he danced the whole evening, and to-day is no more tired than
a gentleman ought to be.
Your desiring to hear from me on Sunday will, perhaps, bring you
a more particular account of the ball than you may care for,
because one is prone to think much more of such things the morning
after they happen, than when time has entirely driven them out
of one's recollection.
It was a pleasant evening; Charles found it remarkably so, but I cannot
tell why, unless the absence of Miss Terry, towards whom his conscience
reproaches him with being now perfectly indifferent, was a relief to him.
There were only twelve dances, of which I danced nine, and was
merely prevented from dancing the rest by the want of a partner.
We began at ten, supped at one, and were at Deane before five.
There were but fifty people in the room; very few families indeed
from our side of the county, and not many more from the other.
My partners were the two St. Johns, Hooper, Holder, and very prodigious
Mr. Mathew, with whom I called the last, and whom I liked the best
of my little stock.
There were very few beauties, and such as there were were not
very handsome. Miss Iremonger did not look well, and Mrs. Blount
was the only one much admired. She appeared exactly as she did
in September, with the same broad face, diamond bandeau, white shoes,
pink husband, and fat neck. The two Miss Coxes were there:
I traced in one the remains of the vulgar, broad-featured girl who
danced at Enham eight years ago; the other is refined into a nice,
composed-looking girl, like Catherine Bigg. I looked at Sir Thomas
Champneys and thought of poor Rosalie; I looked at his daughter,
and thought her a queer animal with a white neck. Mrs. Warren, I was
constrained to think, a very fine young woman, which I much regret.
She [words omitted in Brabourne edition: "has got rid of some part of her child, and"]
danced away with great activity [words omitted in Brabourne edition: "looking by no means
very large"]. Her husband is ugly enough,
uglier even than his cousin John; but he does not look so very old.
The Miss Maitlands are both prettyish, very like Anne,
with brown skins, large dark eyes, and a good deal of nose.
The General has got the gout, and Mrs. Maitland the jaundice.
Miss Debary, Susan, and Sally, all in black, but without any stature,
made their appearance, and I was as civil to them as circumstances
[Unexpurgated original: "their bad breath"] would allow me.
They told me nothing new of Martha. I mean to go to her on Thursday,
unless Charles should determine on coming over again with his
friend Shipley for the Basingstoke ball, in which case I shall
not go till Friday. I shall write to you again, however, before I
set off, and I shall hope to hear from you in the meantime.
If I do not stay for the ball, I would not on any account do so
uncivil a thing by the neighbourhood as to set off at that very time
for another place, and shall therefore make a point of not being
later than Thursday morning.
Mary said that I looked very well last night. I wore my
aunt's gown and handkerchief, and my hair was at least tidy,
which was all my ambition. I will now have done with the ball,
and I will moreover go and dress for dinner.
Thursday evening. -- Charles leaves us on Saturday, unless Henry
should take us in his way to the island, of which we have some hopes,
and then they will probably go together on Sunday.
The young lady whom it is expected that Sir Thomas is to marry is Miss
Emma Wabshaw; she lives somewhere between Southampton and Winchester,
is handsome, accomplished, amiable, and everything but rich.
He is certainly finishing his house in a great hurry.
Perhaps the report of his being to marry a Miss Fanshawe might originate
in his attentions to this very lady -- the names are not unlike.
Summers has made my gown very well indeed, and I get more and more
pleased with it. Charles does not like it, but my father and Mary do.
My mother is very much resigned to it; and as for James,
he gives it the preference over everything of the kind he ever saw,
in proof of which I am desired to say that if you like to sell yours
Mary will buy it.
We had a very pleasant day on Monday at Ashe, we sat down fourteen to
dinner in the study, the dining-room being not habitable from the storms
having blown down its chimney. Mrs. Bramston talked a good deal
of nonsense, which Mr. Bramston and Mr. Clerk seemed almost equally
to enjoy. There was a whist and a casino table, and six outsiders.
Rice and Lucy made love, Mat. Robinson fell asleep, James and
Mrs. Augusta alternately read Dr. Finnis' pamphlet on the cow-pox,
and I bestowed my company by turns on all.
On inquiring of Mrs. Clerk, I find that Mrs. Heathcote made
a great blunder in her news of the Crookes and Morleys.
It is young Mr. Crook who is to marry the second Miss Morley,
and it is the Miss Morleys instead of the second Miss Crooke who were
the beauties at the music meeting. This seems a more likely tale,
a better devised imposture.
The three Digweeds all came on Tuesday, and we played a pool at commerce.
James Digweed left Hampshire to-day. I think he must be in love
with you, from his anxiety to have you go to the Faversham balls,
and likewise from his supposing that the two elms fell from
their grief at your absence. Was not it a gallant idea?
It never occurred to me before, but I dare say it was so.
Hacker has been here to-day putting in the fruit trees.
A new plan has been suggested concerning the plantation
of the new inclosure of the right-hand side of the elm walk:
the doubt is whether it would be better to make a little orchard
of it by planting apples, pears, and cherries, or whether it
should be larch, mountain ash, and acacia. What is your opinion?
I say nothing, and am ready to agree with anybody.
You and George walking to Eggerton! What a droll party!
Do the Ashford people still come to Godmersham church every Sunday
in a cart? It is you that always disliked Mr. N. Toke so much,
not I. I do not like his wife, and I do not like Mr. Brett,
but as for Mr. Toke, there are few people whom I like better.
Miss Harwood and her friend have taken a house fifteen miles from Bath;
she writes very kind letters, but sends no other particulars of
the situation. Perhaps it is one of the first houses in Bristol.
Farewell; Charles sends you his best love and Edward his worst.
If you think the distinction improper, you may take the worst yourself.
He will write to you when he gets back to his ship, and in the meantime
desires that you will consider me as
Your affectionate sister, J. A.
Friday. -- I have determined to go on Thursday, but of course not
before the post comes in. Charles is in very good looks indeed.
I had the comfort of finding out the other evening who all the fat
girls with long noses were that disturbed me at the 1st H. ball.
They all prove to be Miss Atkinsons of En---- [illegible].
I rejoice to say that we have just had another letter from our dear Frank.
It is to you, very short, written from Larnica in Cyprus,
and so lately as October 2. He came from Alexandria, and was to
return there in three or four days, knew nothing of his promotion,
and does not write above twenty lines, from a doubt of the letter's
ever reaching you, and an idea of all letters being opened at Vienna.
He wrote a few days before to you from Alexandria by the "Mercury,"
sent with despatches to Lord Keith. Another letter must be owing
to us besides this, one if not two; because none of
these are to me. Henry comes to-morrow, for one night only.
My mother has heard from Mrs. E. Leigh. Lady Saye and Seale and
her daughter are going to remove to Bath. Mrs. Estwick is married
again to a Mr. Sloane, a young man under age, without the knowledge
of either family. He bears a good character, however.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Saturday (January 3).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
As you have by this time received my last letter, it is fit that I
should begin another, and I begin with the hope, which is at present
uppermost in my mind, that you often wore a white gown in the morning
at the time of all the gay parties being with you.
Our visit at Ash Park, last Wednesday, went off in a come-çá way.
We met Mr. Lefroy and Tom Chute, played at cards, and came home again.
James and Mary dined here on the following day, and at night Henry
set off in the mail for London. He was as agreeable as ever during
his visit, and has not lost anything in Miss Lloyd's estimation.
Yesterday we were quite alone -- only our four selves; but to-day
the scene is agreeably varied by Mary's driving Martha to Basingstoke,
and Martha's afterwards dining at Deane.
My mother looks forward with as much certainty as you can do to our
keeping two maids; my father is the only one not in the secret.
We plan having a steady cook and a young, giddy housemaid,
with a sedate, middle-aged man, who is to undertake the double
office of husband to the former and sweetheart to the latter.
No children, of course, to be allowed on either side.
You feel more for John Bond than John Bond deserves.
I am sorry to lower his character, but he is not ashamed to own
himself that he has no doubt at all of getting a good place,
and that he had even an offer many years ago from a Farmer Paine
of taking him into his service whenever he might quit my father's.
There are three parts of Bath which we have thought of as likely
to have houses in them -- Westgate Buildings, Charles Street, and some
of the short streets leading from Laura Place or Pulteney Street.
Westgate Buildings, though quite in the lower part of the town,
are not badly situated themselves. The street is broad, and has rather
a good appearance. Charles Street, however, I think, is preferable.
The buildings are new, and its nearness to Kingsmead Fields would
be a pleasant circumstance. Perhaps you may remember, or perhaps
you may forget, that Charles Street leads from the Queen Square
Chapel to the two Green Park Streets.
The houses in the streets near Laura Place I should expect to be above
our price. Gay Street would be too high, except only the lower
house on the left-hand side as you ascend. Towards that my mother
has no disinclination; it used to be lower rented than any other
house in the row, from some inferiority in the apartments.
But above all others her wishes are at present fixed on the corner
house in Chapel Row, which opens into Prince's Street.
Her knowledge of it, however, is confined only to the outside,
and therefore she is equally uncertain of its being really
desirable as of its being to be had. In the meantime she assures
you that she will do everything in her power to avoid Trim Street,
although you have not expressed the fearful presentiment of it
which was rather expected.
We know that Mrs. Perrot will want to get us into Oxford Buildings,
but we all unite in particular dislike of that part of the town,
and therefore hope to escape. Upon all these different situations
you and Edward may confer together, and your opinion of each will
be expected with eagerness.
As to our pictures, the battle-piece, Mr. Nibbs, Sir William East,
and all the old heterogeneous miscellany, manuscript, Scriptural pieces
dispersed over the house, are to be given to James. Your own drawings
will not cease to be your own, and the two paintings on tin will
be at your disposal. My mother says that the French agricultural
prints in the best bedroom were given by Edward to his two sisters.
Do you or he know anything about it?
She has written to my aunt, and we are all impatient for the answer.
I do not know how to give up the idea of our both going to Paragon in May.
Your going I consider as indispensably necessary, and I shall
not like being left behind; there is no place here or hereabouts
that I shall want to be staying at, and though, to be sure,
the keep of two will be more than of one, I will endeavour to make
the difference less by disordering my stomach with Bath buns;
and as to the trouble of accommodating us, whether there are one or two,
it is much the same.
According to the first plan, my mother and our two selves are
to travel down together, and my father follow us afterwards
in about a fortnight or three weeks. We have promised to spend
a couple of days at Ibthorp in our way. We must all meet at Bath,
you know, before we set out for the sea, and, everything considered,
I think the first plan as good as any.
My father and mother, wisely aware of the difficulty of finding in all
Bath such a bed as their own, have resolved on taking it with them;
all the beds, indeed, that we shall want are to be removed --
viz., besides theirs, our own two, the best for a spare one,
and two for servants; and these necessary articles will probably
be the only material ones that it would answer to send down.
I do not think it will be worth while to remove any of our chests
of drawers; we shall be able to get some of a much more commodious sort,
made of deal, and painted to look very neat; and I flatter myself
that for little comforts of all kinds our apartment will be one of
the most complete things of the sort all over Bath, Bristol included.
We have thought at times of removing the sideboard, or a Pembroke table,
or some other piece of furniture, but, upon the whole, it has ended
in thinking that the trouble and risk of the removal would be more than
the advantage of having them at a place where everything may be purchased.
Pray send your opinion.
Martha has as good as promised to come to us again in March.
Her spirits are better than they were.
I have now attained the true art of letter-writing, which we
are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say
to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you
almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter.
Your Christmas gaieties are really quite surprising; I think they would
satisfy even Miss Walter herself. I hope the ten shillings won by Miss
Foote may make everything easy between her and her cousin Frederick.
So Lady Bridges, in the delicate language of Coulson Wallop,
is in for it! I am very glad to hear of the Pearsons' good fortune.
It is a piece of promotion which I know they looked forward to
as very desirable some years ago, on Captain Lockyer's illness.
It brings them a considerable increase of income and a better house.
My mother bargains for having no trouble at all in furnishing our house
in Bath, and I have engaged for your willingly undertaking to do it all.
I get more and more reconciled to the idea of our removal.
We have lived long enough in this neighbourhood: the Basingstoke
balls are certainly on the decline, there is something interesting
in the bustle of going away, and the prospect of spending
future summers by the sea or in Wales is very delightful.
For a time we shall now possess many of the advantages which I have
often thought of with envy in the wives of sailors or soldiers.
It must not be generally known, however, that I am not sacrificing
a great deal in quitting the country, or I can expect to inspire
no tenderness, no interest, in those we leave behind.
The threatened Act of Parliament does not seem to give any alarm.
My father is doing all in his power to increase his income,
by raising his tithes, &c., and I do not despair of getting very
nearly six hundred a year.
In what part of Bath do you mean to place your bees?
We are afraid of the South Parade's being too hot.
Monday. -- Martha desires her best love, and says a great many
kind things about spending some time with you in March,
and depending on a large return from us both in the autumn.
Perhaps I may not write again before Sunday.
Yours affectionately, J. A.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Thursday (January 8).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,
The "perhaps" which concluded my last letter being only a "perhaps,"
will not occasion your being overpowered with surprise, I dare say,
if you should receive this before Tuesday, which, unless circumstances
are very perverse, will be the case. I received yours with much
general philanthropy, and still more peculiar good will, two days ago;
and I suppose I need not tell you that it was very long, being written
on a foolscap sheet, and very entertaining, being written by you.
Mr. Payne has been dead long enough for Henry to be out of
mourning for him before his last visit, though we knew nothing
of it till about that time. Why he died, or of what complaint,
or to what noblemen he bequeathed his four daughters in marriage,
we have not heard.
I am glad that the Wildmans are going to give a ball, and hope you
will not fail to benefit both yourself and me by laying out a few
kisses in the purchase of a frank. I believe you are right in
proposing to delay the cambric muslin, and I submit with a kind
of voluntary reluctance.
Mr. Peter Debary has declined Deane curacy; he wishes to be settled
near London. A foolish reason! as if Deane were not near London
in comparison of Exeter or York. Take the whole world through,
and he will find many more places at a greater distance from London
than Deane than he will at a less. What does he think of Glencoe
or Lake Katherine?
I feel rather indignant that any possible objection should be
raised against so valuable a piece of preferment, so delightful
a situation! -- that Deane should not be universally allowed
to be as near the metropolis as any other country villages.
As this is the case, however, as Mr. Peter Debary has shown himself
a Peter in the blackest sense of the word, we are obliged to look
elsewhere for an heir; and my father has thought it a necessary
compliment to James Digweed to offer the curacy to him, though without
considering it as either a desirable or an eligible situation for him.
Unless he is in love with Miss Lyford, I think he had better not be
settled exactly in this neighbourhood; and unless he is very much
in love with her indeed, he is not likely to think a salary of 50l.
equal in value or efficiency to one of 75l.
Were you indeed to be considered as one of the fixtures of the house! --
but you were never actually erected in it either by Mr. Egerton
Brydges or Mrs. Lloyd.
Martha and I dined yesterday at Deane to meet the Powletts and Tom Chute,
which we did not fail to do. Mrs. Powlett was at once expensively
and nakedly dressed; we have had the satisfaction of estimating
her lace and her muslins; and she said too little to afford us
much other amusement.
Mrs. John Lyford is so much pleased with the state of widowhood
as to be going to put in for being a widow again; she is to marry
a Mr. Fendall, a banker in Gloucester, a man of very good fortune,
but considerably older than herself, and with three little children.
Miss Lyford has never been here yet; she can come only for a day,
and is not able to fix the day.
I fancy Mr. Holder will have the farm, and without being obliged
to depend on the accommodating spirit of Mr. William Portal;
he will probably have it for the remainder of my father's lease.
This pleases us all much better than its falling into the hands
of Mr. Harwood or Farmer Twitchen. Mr. Holder is to come in a day
or two to talk to my father on the subject, and then John Bond's
interest will not be forgotten.
I have had a letter to-day from Mrs. Cooke. Mrs. Laurel is
going to be married to a Mr. Hinchman, a rich East Indian.
I hope Mary will be satisfied with this proof of her cousin's
existence and welfare, and cease to torment herself with the idea
of his bones being bleaching in the sun on Wantage Downs.
Martha's visit is drawing towards its close, which we all four
sincerely regret. The wedding day is to be celebrated on the 16th,
because the 17th falls on Saturday; and a day or two before the 16th
Mary will drive her sister to Ibthorp to find all the festivity
she can in contriving for everybody's comfort, and being thwarted
or teased by almost everybody's temper. Fulwar, Eliza, and Tom
Chute are to be of the party. I know of nobody else. I was asked,
but declined it.
Eliza has seen Lord Craven at Barton, and probably by this time
at Kintbury, where he was expected for one day this week.
She found his manners very pleasing indeed. The little flaw
of having a mistress now living with him at Ashdown Park seems
to be the only unpleasing circumstance about him. From Ibthorp,
Fulwar and Eliza are to return with James and Mary to Deane.
The Prices are not to have an house on Weyhill; for the present
he has lodgings in Andover, and they are in view of a dwelling
hereafter in Appleshaw, that village of wonderful elasticity,
which stretches itself out for the reception of everybody who does
not wish for a house on Speen Hill.
Pray give my love to George; tell him that I am very glad to hear
he can skip so well already, and that I hope he will continue to send
me word of his improvement in the art.
I think you judge very wisely in putting off your London visit,
and I am mistaken if it be not put off for some time. You speak
with such noble resignation of Mrs. Jordan and the Opera House,
that it would be an insult to suppose consolation required;
but to prevent you thinking with regret of this rupture of your
engagement with Mr. Smithson, I must assure you that Henry suspects
him to be a great miser.
Friday. -- No answer from my aunt. She has no time for writing,
I suppose, in the hurry of selling furniture, packing clothes,
and preparing for their removal to Scarletts.
You are very kind in planning presents for me to make, and my mother
has shown me exactly the same attention; but as I do not choose
to have generosity dictated to me, I shall not resolve on giving
my cabinet to Anna till the first thought of it has been my own.
Sidmouth is now talked of as our summer abode. Get all the information,
therefore, about it that you can from Mrs. C. Cage.
My father's old ministers are already deserting him to pay their
court to his son. The brown mare, which, as well as the black,
was to devolve on James at our removal, has not had patience to wait
for that, and has settled herself even now at Deane. The death
of Hugh Capet, which, like that of Mr. Skipsey, though undesired,
was not wholly unexpected, being purposely effected, has made
the immediate possession of the mare very convenient, and everything
else I suppose will be seized by degrees in the same manner.
Martha and I work at the books every day.
Yours affectionately, J. A.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Wednesday (January 14).
Poor Miss Austen! It appears to me that I have rather
oppressed you of late by the frequency of my letters.
You had hoped not to hear from me again before Tuesday,
but Sunday showed you with what a merciless sister you had to deal.
I cannot recall the past, but you shall not hear from me quite
so often in future.
Your letter to Mary was duly received before she left Dean
with Martha yesterday morning, and it gives us great pleasure
to know that the Chilham ball was so agreeable, and that you danced
four dances with Mr. Kemble. Desirable, however, as the latter
circumstance was, I cannot help wondering at its taking place.
Why did you dance four dances with so stupid a man? Why not rather
dance two of them with some elegant brother officer who was struck
with your appearance as soon as you entered the room?
Martha left you her best love. She will write to you herself
in a short time; but, trusting to my memory rather than her own,
she has nevertheless desired me to ask you to purchase for her
two bottles of Steele's lavender water when you are in town,
provided you should go to the shop on your own account, otherwise you
may be sure that she would not have you recollect the request.
James dined with us yesterday, wrote to Edward in the evening,
filled three sides of paper, every line inclining too much towards
the northeast, and the very first line of all scratched out, and this
morning he joins his lady in the fields of Elysium and Ibthorp.
Last Friday was a very busy day with us. We were visited by Miss
Lyford and Mr. Bayle. The latter began his operations in the house,
but had only time to finish the four sitting-rooms; the rest is
deferred till the spring is more advanced and the days longer.
He took his paper of appraisement away with him, and therefore
we only know the estimate he has made of one or two articles
of furniture which my father particularly inquired into.
I understand, however, that he was of opinion that the whole would
amount to more than two hundred pounds, and it is not imagined
that this will comprehend the brewhouse and many other, &c., &c.
Miss Lyford was very pleasant, and gave my mother such an account
of the houses in Westgate Buildings, where Mrs. Lyford lodged
four years ago, as made her think of a situation there with great
pleasures but your opposition will be without difficulty decisive,
and my father, in particular, who was very well inclined towards
the Row before, has now ceased to think of it entirely.
At present the environs of Laura Place seem to be his choice.
His views on the subject are much advanced since I came home;
he grows quite ambitious, and actually requires now a comfortable
and a creditable-looking house.
On Saturday Miss Lyford went to her long home that is to say,
it was a long way off -- and soon afterwards a party of fine ladies
issuing from a well-known commodious green vehicle, their heads full
of Bantam cocks and Galinies, entered the house -- Mrs. Heathcote,
Mrs. Harwood, Mrs. James Austen, Miss Bigg, Miss Jane Blachford.
Hardly a day passes in which we do not have some visitor or other:
yesterday came Mrs. Bramstone, who is very sorry that she
is to lose us, and afterwards Mr. Holder, who was shut up
for an hour with my father and James in a most awful manner.
John Bond est a lui.
Mr. Holder was perfectly willing to take him on exactly the same
terms with my father, and John seems exceedingly well satisfied.
The comfort of not changing his home is a very material one to him,
and since such are his unnatural feelings, his belonging to Mr. Holder
is the every thing needful; but otherwise there would have been a situation
offering to him, which I had thought of with particular satisfaction,
viz., under Harry Digweed, who, if John had quitted Cheesedown,
would have been eager to engage him as superintendent at Steventon,
would have kept a horse for him to ride about on, would probably
have supplied him with a more permanent home, and I think would
certainly have been a more desirable master altogether.
John and Corbett are not to have any concern with each other --
there are to be two farms and two bailiffs. We are of opinion
that it would be better in only one.
This morning brought my aunt's reply, and most thoroughly affectionate
is its tenor. She thinks with the greatest pleasure of our being settled
in Bath -- it is an event which will attach her to the place more than
anything else could do, &c., &c. She is, moreover, very urgent with my
mother not to delay her visit in Paragon, if she should continue unwell,
and even recommends her spending the whole winter with them.
At present and for many days past my mother has been quite stout,
and she wishes not to be obliged by any relapse to alter her arrangements.
Mr. and Mrs. Chamberlayne are in Bath, lodging at the Charitable
Repository; I wish the scene may suggest to Mrs. C. the notion
of selling her black beaver bonnet for the relief of the poor.
Mrs. Welby has been singing duets with the Prince of Wales.
My father has got above 500 volumes to dispose of; I want
James to take them at a venture at half a guinea a volume.
The whole repairs of the parsonage at Deane, inside and out, coachbox,
basket and dickey will not much exceed 100l.
Have you seen that Major Byng, a nephew of Lord Torrington, is dead?
That must be Edmund.
Friday. -- I thank you for yours, though I should have been more grateful
for it if it had not been charged 8d. instead of 6d., which has
given me the torment of writing to Mr. Lambould on the occasion.
I am rather surprised at the revival of the London visit;
but Mr. Doricourt has travelled -- he knows best.
That James Digweed has refused Deane curacy I suppose he has told
you himself, though probably the subject has never been mentioned
between you. Mrs. Milles flatters herself falsely, it has never been
Mrs. Rice's wish to have her son settled near herself; and there
is now a hope entertained of her relenting in favour of Deane.
Mrs. Lefroy and her son-in-law were here yesterday;
she tries not to be sanguine, but he was in excellent spirits.
I rather wish they may have the curacy. It would be an amusement
to Mary to superintend their household management, and abuse them
for expense, especially as Mrs. L. means to advise them to put
their washing out.
Yours affectionately, J. A.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Wednesday (January 21).
Expect a most agreeable letter, for not being overburdened with subject
(having nothing at all to say), I shall have no check to my genius
from beginning to end. Well, and so Frank's letters has made you
very happy, but you are afraid he would not have patience to stay
for the "Haarlem," which you wish him to have done as being safer
than the merchantman. Poor fellow! to wait from the middle of November
to the end of December, and perhaps even longer, it must be sad work;
especially in a place where the ink is so abominably pale.
What a surprise to him it must have been on October 20, to be visited,
collared, and thrust out of the "Petterell" by Captain Inglis.
He kindly passes over the poignancy of his feelings in quitting
his ship, his officers, and his men.
What a pity it is that he should not be in England at the time of
this promotion, because he certainly would have had an appointment,
so everybody says, and therefore it must be right for me to say it too.
Had he been really here, the certainty of the appointment, I dare say,
would not have been half so great, but as it could not be brought
to the proof his absence will be always a lucky source of regret.
Eliza talks of having read in a newspaper that all the 1st
lieutenants of the frigates whose captains were to be sent into
line-of-battle ships were to be promoted to the rank of commanders.
If it be true, Mr. Valentine may afford himself a fine Valentine's knot,
and Charles may perhaps become 1st of the "Endymion," though I
suppose Captain Durham is too likely to bring a villain with him
under that denomination.
I dined at Deane yesterday, as I told you I should, and met the two
Mr. Holders. We played at vingt-un, which, as Fulwar was unsuccessful,
gave him an opportunity of exposing himself as usual.
Eliza says she is quite well, but she is thinner than when we
saw her last, and not in very good looks. I suppose she has
not recovered from the effects of her illness in December.
She cuts her hair too short over her forehead, and does not wear her
cap far enough upon her head; in spite of these many disadvantages,
however, I can still admire her beauty. They all dine here to-day;
much good may it do us all.
William and Tom are much as usual; Caroline is improved in her person;
I think her now really a pretty child. She is still very shy,
and does not talk much.
Fulwar goes next month into Gloucestershire, Leicestershire,
and Warwickshire, and Eliza spends the time of his absence at Ibthorp
and Deane; she hopes, therefore, to see you before it is long.
Lord Craven was prevented by company at home from paying his visit
at Kintbury, but, as I told you before, Eliza is greatly pleased
with him, and they seem likely to be on the most friendly terms.
Martha returns into this country next Tuesday, and then begins
her two visits at Deane.
I expect to see Miss Bigg every day to fix the time for my going
to Manydown; I think it will be next week, and I shall give you
notice of it, if I can, that you may direct to me there.
The neighbourhood have quite recovered the death of Mrs. Rider;
so much so, that I think they are rather rejoiced at it now; her things
were so very dear! and Mrs. Rogers is to be all that is desirable.
Not even death itself can fix the friendship of the world.
You are not to give yourself the trouble of going to Penlingtons
when you are in town; my father is to settle the matter when he goes
there himself; you are only to take special care of the bills
of his in your hands, and I dare say will not be sorry to be excused
the rest of the business.
Thursday. -- Our party yesterday was very quietly pleasant.
Today we all attack Ashe Park, and to-morrow I dine again at Deane.
What an eventful week!
Eliza left me a message for you, which I have great pleasure
in delivering: she will write to you and send you your money next Sunday.
Mary has likewise a message: she will be much obliged to you if you
can bring her the pattern of the jacket and trousers, or whatever it
is that Elizabeth's boys wear when they are first put into breeches;
so if you could bring her an old suit itself, she would be very glad,
but that I suppose is hardly done.
I am happy to hear of Mrs. Knight's amendment, whatever might
be her complaint. [Words omitted in Brabourne edition: "I cannot think so ill
of her however, in spite of your insinuations, as to suspect her of having
lain-in -- I do not think she would be betrayed beyond an accident
at the utmost."]
The Wylmots being robbed must be an amusing thing to their acquaintance,
and I hope it is as much their pleasure as it seems their avocation
to be subjects of general entertainment.
I have a great mind not to acknowledge the receipt of your letter,
which I have just had the pleasure of reading, because I am
so ashamed to compare the sprawling lines of this with it.
But if I say all that I have to say, I hope I have no reason
to hang myself.
Caroline was only brought to bed on the 7th of this month,
so that her recovery does seem pretty rapid. I have heard
twice from Edward on the occasion, and his letters have each
been exactly what they ought to be -- cheerful and amusing.
He dares not write otherwise to me, but perhaps he might be
obliged to purge himself from the guilt of writing nonsense
by filling his shoes with whole peas for a week afterwards.
Mrs. G. has left him 100l., his wife and son 500l. each.
I join with you in wishing for the environs of Laura Place, but do not
venture to expect it. My mother hankers after the Square dreadfully,
and it is but natural to suppose that my uncle will take her part.
It would be very pleasant to be near Sydney Gardens; we might go
into the labyrinth every day.
You need not endeavour to match my mother's morning calico;
she does not mean to make it up any more.
Why did not J. D. make his proposals to you? I suppose he went
to see the cathedral, that he might know how he should like to be
married in it.
Fanny shall have the boarding-school, as soon as her papa gives me
an opportunity of sending it; and I do not know whether I may not
by that time have worked myself into so generous a fit as to give
it to her forever.
We have a ball on Thursday too; I expect to go to it from Manydown.
Do not be surprised, or imagine that Frank is come, if I write again soon;
it will only be to say that I am going to M., and to answer your
question about my gown.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,
Steventon: Sunday (January 25).
I have nothing to say about Manydown, but I write because you will expect
to hear from me, and because if I waited another day or two, I hope
your visit to Goodnestone would make my letter too late in its arrival.
I dare say I shall be at M. in the course of this week, but as it
is not certain you will direct to me at home.
I shall want two new coloured gowns for the summer, for my
pink one will not do more than clear me from Steventon.
I shall not trouble you, however, to get more than one of them,
and that is to be a plain brown cambric muslin, for morning wear;
the other, which is to be a very pretty yellow and white cloud,
I mean to buy in Bath. Buy two brown ones, if you please, and both
of a length, but one longer than the other -- it is for a tall woman.
Seven yards for my mother, seven yards and a half for me;
a dark brown, but the kind of brown is left to your own choice,
and I had rather they were different, as it will be always
something to say, to dispute about which is the prettiest.
They must be cambric muslin.
How do you like this cold weather? I hope you have all been
earnestly praying for it as a salutary relief from the dreadful mild
and unhealthy season preceding it, fancying yourself half putrified
from the want of it, and that now you all draw into the fire,
complain that you never felt such bitterness of cold before,
that you are half starved, quite frozen, and wish the mild weather
back again with all your hearts.
Your unfortunate sister was betrayed last Thursday into a situation of
the utmost cruelty. I arrived at Ashe Park before the party from Deane,
and was shut up in the drawing-room with Mr. Holder alone for ten minutes.
I had some thoughts of insisting on the housekeeper or Mary Corbett
being sent for, and nothing could prevail on me to move two steps
from the door, on the lock of which I kept one hand constantly fixed.
We met nobody but ourselves, played at vingt-un again,
and were very cross.
On Friday I wound up my four days of dissipation by meeting William
Digweed at Deane, and am pretty well, I thank you, after it.
While I was there a sudden fall of snow rendered the roads impassable,
and made my journey home in the little carriage much more easy
and agreeable than my journey down.
Fulwar and Eliza left Deane yesterday. You will be glad to hear
that Mary is going to keep another maid. I fancy Sally is too much
of a servant to find time for everything, and Mary thinks Edward
is not so much out of doors as he ought to be; there is therefore
to be a girl in the nursery.
I would not give much for Mr. Price's chance of living at Deane;
he builds his hope, I find, not upon anything that his mother
has written, but upon the effect of what he has written himself.
He must write a great deal better than those eyes indicate if he can
persuade a perverse and narrow-minded woman to oblige those whom
she does not love.
Your brother Edward makes very honourable mention of you, I assure you,
in his letter to James, and seems quite sorry to part with you.
It is a great comfort to me to think that my cares have not been
thrown away, and that you are respected in the world. Perhaps you
may be prevailed on to return with him and Elizabeth into Kent,
when they leave us in April, and I rather suspect that your great wish
of keeping yourself disengaged has been with that view. Do as you like;
I have overcome my desire of your going to Bath with my mother and me.
There is nothing which energy will not bring one to.
Edward Cooper is so kind as to want us all to come to Hamstall this summer,
instead of going to the sea, but we are not so kind as to mean to do it.
The summer after, if you please, Mr. Cooper, but for the present
we greatly prefer the sea to all our relations.
I dare say you will spend a very pleasant three weeks in town.
I hope you will see everything worthy of notice, from the Opera
House to Henry's office in Cleveland Court; and I shall expect you
to lay in a stock of intelligence that may procure me amusement
for a twelvemonth to come. You will have a turkey from Steventon
while you are there, and pray note down how many full courses
of exquisite dishes M. Halavant converts it into.
I cannot write any closer. Neither my affection for you nor
for letter-writing can stand out against a Kentish visit.
For a three-months' absence I can be a very loving relation
and a very excellent correspondent, but beyond that I degenerate
into negligence and indifference.
I wish you a very pleasant ball on Thursday, and myself another,
and Mary and Martha a third, but they will not have theirs till Friday,
as they have a scheme for the Newbury Assembly.
Nanny's husband is decidedly against her quitting service in such times
as these, and I believe would be very glad to have her continue with us.
In some respects she would be a great comfort, and in some we should wish
for a different sort of servant. The washing would be the greatest evil.
Nothing is settled, however, at present with her, but I should think
it would be as well for all parties if she could suit herself
in the meanwhile somewhere nearer her husband and child than Bath.
Mrs. H. Rice's place would be very likely to do for her.
It is not many, as she is herself aware, that she is qualified for.
My mother has not been so well for many months as she is now.
Adieu. Yours sincerely, J. A.
Miss Austen, Godmersham Park,