A Clandestine Correspondence
August
Fullerton Parsonage,
1 August, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I hope this finds you well as we all are here. My mother has work waiting for me, but it is not within my power at the moment to sit quietly and sew. I had a wonderful dream that we were walking together in the shrubbery at Woodston, and I wanted nothing more than paper and ink and the opportunity to send you this letter. I can still feel your arms around me, as they were in the dream. Oh, I had best not think about it! Yet I cannot stop!
Mr. and Mrs. Allen are to return from Brighton the day after tomorrow. I am so impatient to hear about her trip. Mrs. Allen is such a good friend to me. I have sincerely missed her while she has been gone.
I received a note from Eleanor. I wrote to her shortly before her wedding to congratulate her. I addressed her as Your Ladyship, and she scolded me roundly. She insists that I continue to call her by her Christian name. It is such a joyful note that it warms my heart to read it. She sent her direction in Edinburgh and asked me to write to her. It will be so good to write Eleanor's name on the direction, rather than Alice's! Yet it will be strange at the same time, addressing a letter to Viscountess ---------- and knowing it still goes to Eleanor.
She writes that they are to visit Northanger after their wedding-tour. I confess I am rather surprised that she will return there so soon. I would think that a bride would want to be at her own home, fitting it up and making it comfortable for her husband. That is what I would do, in any event.
How quickly the summer is flying, and yet how slowly! I am so used to missing you now that it is like a dull ache in my stomach that never really goes away. I hope that you do not miss me as much. I would not have you feel as bad as I do. Be well, my love, and think of me often, but not so often that you pine. You must promise me that you will not. I will not have both of us so. I remain
your devoted
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
4 August, 1798
My sweet girl,
I hope you are feeling better than when you wrote your last. I am all too familiar with that dull ache in the stomach, my love. Have no fear, I do not exactly pine, but I do miss you sincerely. I so enjoyed our time together in Bath and at Northanger, and my solitude weighs heavily upon me. But I have found that the best antidote for that dull ache is a sense of hope.
I have heard from Eleanor as well. Her joy bubbles from the page, but I must say that her hand has suffered. She used to write so elegantly, but now I receive scrawled notes containing a half page of barely coherent, rambling prose, and the rest of the paper is filled with uncharacteristically clumsy sketches of the sights they are encountering. I shall treasure them nonetheless, as I treasure your letters. She promises to call at Woodston when her duty visit to my father has finished. My impatience to see her is only surpassed by my impatience to see you, sweet Catherine. My life is full of blessings, except for the two that I most desire: the presence of the two most important women in my life.
By this time I am sure you have seen dear Mrs. Allen. Has she acquired any reflected glory from sharing Brighton with royalty? Was she successful in her application to see the Pavilion? How I would have enjoyed being a bystander at that tour! I can nearly hear her commenting in a raised voice about the merits and shortcomings of the Prince's taste. I hope that he took the opportunity to ask her advice about his wardrobe. One would imagine that our future King is sufficiently astute to recognize Mrs. Allen's inherent talents.
The sun has set, my love; twilight comes a bit earlier each night as the summer wanes. I always think of you when the sky turns from turquoise to indigo to dark velvet blue. Think of me as well at that time, Catherine, and know that a devoted heart is yours at that hour and always, and that it belongs to
your faithful
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
8 August, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I am in receipt of your last, and I am so very glad to hear that you do not pine. Please forgive the despairing note of my last; I wrote that letter in such an impatience of spirits. I try my best to follow your example, and Eleanor's, and maintain hope as my dominant emotion. Your letters help so much, Henry. When I read them I feel as though we are together.
I have indeed seen Mrs. Allen, and Sarah and I have spent a great deal of time at the Great House since her return. They were not able to see the Pavilion, but Mrs. Allen caught a glimpse of the Duke of Clarence and Mrs. Jordan disembarking a carriage. I thought Bath was exciting, but Brighton must be much more so!
Mrs. Allen knows our secret, my love; I could keep it from her no longer. I have told Mr. Allen as well, and I assure you that they have sworn to reveal the news to no one. I know how fond you are of Mrs. Allen and I felt sure that you would not mind my telling her. I should tell you, however, that she takes all the credit to herself for taking me to Bath and for maintaining the acquaintance with you, Eleanor, and Mrs. Hughes. I am perfectly willing to allow her the credit. I care not how it happened, my love, I am only glad that your feelings corresponded so agreeably with my own.
We are full of the Allens' ball here. Sarah is all anticipation for her first dance. She made a list of all the young men in the neighbourhood, and Mrs. Allen has promised to invite them. There is a militia encampment nearby and Mr. Allen is of a mind to issue a general invitation. My mother was rather alarmed at that news. She says that no good ever comes of exposing young ladies to men in red coats. I am not sure that I understand her prejudice, but I suppose she must have more extensive knowledge of such things than I.
I have an appointment to have my ball-gown fitted this afternoon, and so I must finish this letter. Be well and think of me often, as I think of you, especially at twilight as you requested. I shall be in the orchard tonight with you, my love, and I remain
yours as always,
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
12 August, 1798
My dearest Catherine,
It is late, my love, and I am fatigued from a long day of shooting, but I wanted to write to you before I retired. You will be pleased to know that Bear acquitted himself well, and leapt into the lake to retrieve a bird without prompting. And he came home to a feast of fat treats saved all day especially for him by Mrs. Cooke. I suspect that there is not a more contented creature on all this earth as the one that presently sleeps with his head on my right foot. The terriers were, of course, quite jealous to have been left behind. I shall have to go rat-hunting soon or I may have a mutiny on my hands.
I took out my new gun. I purchased it last month in anticipation of this day, and I am not sure that I like it as well as I thought I should. Mr. Robinson inspected it and said that a good cleaning and adjustment should put it to rights, and he has undertaken to do so. I shall shoot with my old guns until he finishes the job, I suppose.
My sweet, I have wearied you with my ramblings long enough. I have not asked if you are well, nor have I asked after your family. How are dear Mr. and Mrs. Allen? Send them my best love and tell them that I hope to see them soon. I am glad that you have told them our secret. They have been good friends to us both and deserve to share our joy.
Your mother is quite right to keep your sister away from the redcoats. They may be fine men in themselves, but young ladies are known to lose their heads when they are about, and it is not unknown for officers to take advantage of a young lady blinded by scarlet. I think you saw a good example of that syndrome with Miss Thorpe and my brother. I know that your good sense shall keep you safe, Catherine, but remember that your sister may benefit from your guidance.
I must end this letter, my sweet, as I am overcome with weariness. Bear has just looked up at me and cocked his head to one side; I can only take that to mean that he sends his best love, as do I. Be well and do not forget that I am
your affectionate and, for the moment, rather exhausted
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
15 August, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I am in receipt of your latest. I am so glad to hear that you had a good day of shooting, and that Bear has learned his part so well! But you must be sure to make it up to my Ruby. If I were at Woodston I should do it myself; she should have plenty of treats and a long walk every afternoon. I have no objection to your writing of your hunting. I enjoy hearing about all your activities. How many times have I written you about my ball-gown? You must be weary of it by now!
Permit me to weary you yet longer, Henry, because my ball-gown has arrived. It is so lovely! I feel like a princess when I am wearing it. I have been embellishing it with my tambour-hoop, with Sarah's assistance. She is terribly clever with her needle, and much more creative than I. The gown will be prettier than I dared to imagine. I have only to wish for one thing to make the ball perfect, and I think you know what that is.
Fear not that I shall be blinded by any scarlet coats in attendance at the ball. I remember Isabella's faithlessness all too well; I have a daily reminder in my brother's long face. He is recovering, I think, but slowly. He seems to be looking forward to the ball. It will be a fine distraction for him. But I shall take your advice and keep watch over Sarah, and enlist my brothers to help.
I have been so contented lately, Henry. I have endeavoured to do as you bid and keep a sense of hope, and I have succeeded very well. It helps that I can look forward to the ball. I have never realized before how quiet and retired my life is here in Fullerton. I enjoyed the excitement of Bath, and I am enjoying the excitement of the ball, but I must confess that it will be good to return to our usual quiet pace.
I must work on my gown, dearest, so I will end this letter now. I send all my love to you and the dogs and everyone and Woodston, and know that I never stop thinking of you and that I am,
your own devoted
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
18 August, 1798
My love,
I was glad to read in your last that you did not mind my hunting-talk, but I do not think you realize the danger in which you have placed yourself. In future I shall feel free to weary you with discussions of dogs and guns and horses and hunting-masters.
I know you will be glad to hear of Bear, at least. He is a natural retriever. I am quite the envy of my shooting companions. However, his success seems to have swollen his head. This morning I discovered that he pilfered a volume of Radcliffe from my study and chewed it to bits. Even if you must censure his behaviour, my sweet, you must applaud his taste. I suppose he gets it from you.
I am sure your gown shall be lovely, my sweet, but you shall be lovelier still. You must wear it for me someday. I have formed a mental picture of the gown, and on the twenty-eighth evening of this month, I shall watch you dancing in my mind. I am sure that you shall not mind if I imagine that I am your partner, instead of some redcoated rogue intent on winning a heart that can never be his, a heart that is more devoted and true than I deserve.
How is the weather in Fullerton? Here it has been glorious; cool mornings and evenings, warm golden afternoons, the occasional soft rain beating upon the fields, nourishing the earth so that it produces its harvest. There is nothing like summer in the country, except perhaps autumn in the country. I look forward to sharing a country summer with you, Catherine, and an autumn as well. A great deal of them, in fact, and springs and winters into the bargain.
I have neglected my work for sweet ramblings with Catherine in my imagination. I have a sermon to write, guns to clean, a dog to scold, and servants to direct. Be assured, my dearest girl, that even during the performance of these homely tasks, your face is before me and your voice is in my heart, a heart that longs for you even as it remains
your own,
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
21 August, 1798
My dearest Henry,
Weary me all you like, my love, only continue to think of me and send word to me. I miss you so, and your letters soften the hardship that I suffer every day that we are apart. To hear of your shooting, and your dogs, and your life in Woodston helps me to feel that we are together, or that we soon shall be.
My gown is finished at last. I think you would approve, Henry. Sarah and I have embroidered it in soft shades of blue and pink and green and purple and white. There are flowers and leaves along the hem, around the edge of the sleeves, and at the edge of the neckline. I feel that I shall be the envy of every young lady at the ball!
Only another sen'night until the dance! I must confess that my anticipation grows by the day. Sarah is even more excited than I, if that is possible. I have a sense that the night shall be wonderful and magical, like something from a novel. Not a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe, of course. In one of her novels, the heroine would probably go to the ball and be kidnapped by the villain. That would not do at all.
We have had wonderful weather here in Fullerton as well. I hope it holds for another week. Sarah and I pray daily that there will be no rain for the ball. I do not think God will grudge us one dry day, when we have willingly accepted so many wet ones this summer.
I have a great deal to do in the morning, so I must be abed. I have a secret to tell you. You may have noticed that I often write to you just before I go to sleep. I do so because then I shall dream of you. The last time I was walking in the orchard. It was foggy and misty, and I heard hoofbeats behind me. But I was not frightened, because I knew it was Henry and that he had come to take me to Woodston forever. Think of me often, my love, and perhaps you shall dream of she who is
your affectionate
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
25 August, 1798
My sweet,
This will not be a long letter. I write only to tell you of the extraordinary events of the past two days, then I must set off--but let me start from the beginning.
I received a letter this morning from Eleanor. She and her husband have returned from their wedding-tour and are at Northanger, as you already knew. She has been promoting our union, and has explained to my father the falsehoods that Thorpe imparted early in their acquaintance as well as the misleading information he gave later. She told him that your family is well-respected in your neighbourhood, despite Thorpe's assertions, and that your father told me you would have a dowry of three thousand pounds upon our marriage.
The happy result of my dearest sister's intercessions is that my father has agreed to give his permission for our marriage. Catherine, we must give thanks. Our prayers have been answered. I am off for Northanger directly I finish this letter. I shall obtain my father's permission in writing and bring it to Fullerton. Look for me very soon, my sweet. Until then, I remain
yours in haste,
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
VIA SPECIAL MESSENGER
Northanger Abbey,
26 August, 1798
My dear Mr. Morland,
I most humbly beg leave to send to you my most sincere Approbation of my Son Henry's wish to take your Daughter Catherine's Hand in Marriage. Miss Morland is a delightful young Lady, and I welcome her to my Family with all my Heart. My Daughter, the Viscountess --------, and I were delighted to make Miss Morland's Acquaintance when she visited Northanger Abbey. Her very proper Comportment, the Elasticity of her Walk, and the demure Manner that she always employed toward her Social Betters, left me with a very positive Idea of her Attributes, and I assure you that I am quite delighted with Henry's Choice.
I do hope, my dear Sir, that the unfortunate Incident of April last, which was the result of Misinformation that I received from a Source I considered Unexceptionable, shall not weigh heavily against my Son's Application for dear Miss Morland's Hand. Henry assures me that you have a complete Understanding of the Circumstances.
I believe that my Son has already acquainted you with his Expectations, as he has acquainted me with your Daughter's. All Correspondence related to the Marriage-Contract should be directed to Mr. J. Potter, Solicitor, Huntsville, Gloucestershire. Mr. Potter shall engage in all Negotiations, subject to my Consent. I have the great Honour to remain,
Yr. ob't. Serv't.,
GENERAL F. TILNEY
The Rev. Mr. Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
BY HAND
Note accompanying bouquet of red and white roses
Fullerton,
28 August, 1798
My love,
Now that you have learnt to love a rose, I hope that you will find these humble blossoms worthy of your affection. Mrs. Allen was kind enough to give me the freedom of her hothouse, and you have the results before you.
Our long wait is nearly over, my sweet. In four weeks we shall be together forever. And in the interim, we have the kindness of our friends to sustain us. My gratitude to the Allens knows no bounds; I am still reeling in astonishment at their invitation for me to stay at Fullerton until the wedding. I only wish that it was in my power to do so, but I must return to Woodston and prepare for my bride. But not until we have had that dance we have longed for all these months, and perhaps a little while longer. I fear it shall be terribly difficult to leave you again.
I look forward to opening the ball with you tonight. I have never awaited a party with such impatience. Until the first dance, sweet Catherine, I am
your loving
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage
Fullerton Parsonage,
29 August, 1798
My dearest Henry,
In response to your request, enclosed is one of the roses I wore in my hair at the ball last night, as well as a ribbon. I am saving a blossom for myself from the nosegay you so kindly sent. I have already pressed it and I shall treasure it always. It will be a lovely souvenir of the most wonderful night of my life.
I was so proud when my father and Mr. Allen announced our engagement, and when you led me to the top of the set. Everyone was watching us, and normally I would have been very nervous, but all I knew was that I was dancing with Henry and that we were to be married. I thought my heart would burst from happiness.
And Sarah had so many admirers! I did not even know there were so many young men in the neighborhood! I am very glad for her. I do not believe she sat out a single dance. And James was equally as busy partnering the young ladies. He has not stopped smiling all day, and he has mentioned Miss Emily Woodward at least four times. And the word "Isabella" has not passed his lips. I believe your scheme was successful, my love, not that I ever doubted you.
But I am saving the rose for another reason. It will always remind me of when we slipped away and walked in Mrs. Allen's garden in the moonlight. I imagined being with you at Midsummer, but it was more wonderful than I ever dared to dream, especially when you took me in your arms and whispered in my ear of your love for me. I thought that it was wonderful to kiss you by daylight, but Henry, to kiss you by moonlight is the most perfect felicity that there can ever be.
I do not know why I am writing such a long note, when I have already seen you once today, and I hope that I shall see you again. I suppose I have gotten in the habit of writing my thoughts to you. But today we shall be together, and we shall talk about the ball, and about our wedding, and about our life together. I shall enlist little George to run this note over to Fullerton, and I shall tell him to wait for your reply. Until then, my love, I am
yours devotedly,
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Fullerton
Fullerton,
29 August, 1798
My sweet,
Meet me in the orchard at nine o'clock. We shall watch the moon rise together. Until then, I am
yours affectionately and impatiently,
H.T.
Miss Morland, by courtesy of Master George Morland
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