A Clandestine Correspondence
July
Fullerton Parsonage,
1 July, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I hope this finds you well. I have received your last, and it prompts me to make another confession: I walked in the twilight at Midsummer and thought of you. Fullerton is quite close to the great ring of stones,* you know, and some of the country folk are rather superstitious about Midsummer. I suppose it was on my mind that evening. I did not dare to write to you about it because I feared you would find it blasphemous. I took such comfort from your words. I know that we will someday share a Midsummer moon. How do I know this, you ask? Because Henry has promised it, and I have absolute faith in his word.
I will open the Allens' ball if you wish it, sir. I admit that the idea is terribly exciting. We have so few dances in Fullerton that it will be quite a novelty. Sarah is also to attend. I hope that she will have partners. I am not concerned for myself, but I would be most unhappy if she were to sit down the entire evening. And you may rest assured that no matter how handsome and attentive the gentlemen at the ball, my thoughts will be miles away in Gloucestershire.
I am pleased to read that Mrs. Cooke has become friendly with Bear. I see that the puppy has learned from his master. Charming behaviour always recommends your sex to ours, my dearest. It recommended you to me, did it not? And you see how well that has turned out.
Your fish dinner sounded quite delicious. We have also been enjoying such meals here as well. James went fishing yesterday with George and Richard and my second-youngest brother Edward. It is so jolly, having all my brothers at home! Although I envied them greatly when I saw them setting off with their fishing tackle. When I was a small girl I would have accompanied them. Of course, young ladies such as Sarah and I cannot engage in such boyish activities. We stayed home and tended to our work like proper ladies. At least we were able to enjoy the fruits of the boys' labours--we dined on trout and salmon, served with fresh vegetables from the kitchen garden.
The hour grows late, my love, and I must end now. You are always in my thoughts and prayers, and I remain,
yours devotedly,
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
*Stonehenge is about ten miles north of Salisbury, which, according to Mrs. Allen, is about eight or nine miles from Fullerton, although I don't think that she defined the direction.
Woodston Parsonage,
5 July, 1798
My sweetest girl,
I am in receipt of your last, and such a delightful missive, my love! You were positively arch. Eleanor would say that you are learning bad habits from me.
Speaking of Eleanor, have you received recent word from her? Fear not that she is neglecting you. I know that she has been extremely busy of late preparing for the wedding. Eleanor and her fiancé wish to keep the ceremony simple, but my father insists on exhibiting his daughter's good fortune to all his cronies; thus my sister is thrust into the role of hostess as well as bride. How I wish I could relieve some of her burden. And how I wish that I could watch as she and her intended take their vows, or better yet, lead them through their vows myself. I am resigned; I am not to have that blessing.
And I am not to have the blessing of leading you to the top of the set at the Allens' ball. This is how we pay for our pagan devotions at Midsummer, Catherine; the gods of love require a sacrifice from us, and I can think of few more difficult than sitting here in my study on the evening of the ball wishing that we were together. Although I have just realized that you have neglected to tell me the date of the ball! Perhaps that is best. Write and tell me all about it when it has passed.
I hope that it is not on my account that you and Miss Sarah stay at home while your brothers test their angling skills. I have never understood the social dictum that states women should not be allowed the same simple pleasures as men. How could there be anything improper in such activities between brothers and sisters? Do not forget to write and tell me the size and the number of the fish you catch. Remember that it is the anglers' prerogative to embellish the facts. Not lie, precisely, but to embellish.
It is unusually warm here this summer, and we have had little rain of late. I am afraid that the crops will be stunted. It pains me to see my parishioners wearing their worries as plainly as they do their clothing. I fear it will be a hard winter for them, my love. Our concerns seem quite small in the comparison. Nonetheless, my thoughts are with you, as always, as I write. Indeed you are never far from me. Be well, Catherine, and do not forget to think occasionally of a poor lonely clergyman in Gloucestershire, who remains
yours as ever,
H.T.
Post scriptum: I have changed my mind. Do tell me the date of the ball. Otherwise I shall run distracted every night of August with wondering. H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
8 July, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I hope this finds you well. I did not realize that I was being arch in my last! Isabella Thorpe accused me of being arch many times when I had no intention of being so. I do remember that I was in very high spirits while I wrote that letter. Well, I am frequently in high spirits when I think of you, dearest, or when I read over your letters, or when I write to you!
Poor Henry! I did not realize that you felt so lonesome. Has Mrs. Cooke given notice and left her position? Do you find yourself quite without parishioners? Has Mr. Robinson not been sufficiently attentive? Have the dogs run off? Indeed, it must be lonely, in that big empty house all by yourself.
Oh, dear. I suppose I am arch, sometimes! I do not know how that happened!
It is quite warm in Fullerton as well, sir. We have been quite unable to walk out of doors. I envy Mr. and Mrs. Allen the sea-breezes of Brighton. My mother had a note from Mrs. Allen yesterday; she and Mr. Allen both well and enjoying the sights. They are trying to secure an invitation to tour the Pavilion, but do not think well of their chances. Just fancy Mrs. Allen meeting the Prince of Wales! It is almost as good as having royalty in our neighbourhood!
Oh, and in answer to your query, the ball is scheduled for the twenty-eighth evening of August, when it shall be moonlight. I am sure that it will be uncommonly warm. I just hope that it does not rain! Mr. Allen's house has no shelter when one emerges from the carriage, and my hair and gown could be quite ruined by the time I reach the house. I suppose there will be footmen with umbrellas, if it does rain. Mr. Allen is such a thoughtful man; he would provide what is necessary, I am sure.
Father says I am to have a new gown for the ball. I must confess that I was quite taken with your idea of using embroidered yellow muslin. Unfortunately, the mantua-maker had no embroidered muslin, but she had a lovely plain yellow muslin that I believe would meet even your exacting qualifications, sir. I must get out my tambour hoop and embellish the gown when it is complete. I will wear yellow ribbons in my hair, and perhaps some of the tiny white roses from Mrs. Allen's garden. Mrs. Pidgeon, the mantua-maker, has designed the gown in the latest style. I am looking forward to the ball, but oh! I wish you could be there, dearest, dearest Henry! My spirits are suddenly not quite so high. I must close this before I begin to weep. I miss you so, and I hope that you do not forget she who is
forever yours most devotedly,
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
12 July, 1798
My dearest,
I am enjoying this teasing Catherine a great deal! Although I suppose I must shoulder the blame. I took a sweet, unaffected girl that left her home in search of adventure and made her over in my own somewhat cynical image. I hope it is not too late to repair the damage. I prescribe an immediate dose of Radcliffe. Have you and Sarah finished reading The Italian? If you have, I suppose you must move on to The Romance of the Forest. I find there is nothing like a good horrid mystery to make the most tormenting person repent his ways. Imagine how Schedoni would punish you for such behaviour, my dear.
I am delighted to hear that the Allens are enjoying Brighton. Although I confess I am worried about dear Mrs. Allen, especially if she meets H.R.H. I understand his waistcoats alone can make one feel dowdy. The poor woman will be prostrate with distress.
However, my sweet, "dowdy" is the last word anyone will associate with you at the ball. I must send an artist to take your likeness. No, that will not be necessary; I have it in my mind. Such a delightful picture, my love! Will you save me one of the roses you wear in your hair that night? Press it and send it to me as you did the other. I shall treasure it, you may depend upon that.
At last it has rained. Two full days of it, and all the more welcome for the good soaking. The crops are already looking better, and the dogs have certainly been enjoying it, judging by the dirt they bring inside with them. I declare that Bear positively rolls in dirt. And then of course he comes in the house and shakes himself all over Mrs. Cooke's clean floors. She does not object, of course. No creature ever had a more devoted friend. She simply gets her mop and cleans after him without comment. Well, she has cleaned after me for so long without comment, I suppose I should not be surprised.
The sun is setting, my love, and the twilight air is cool, washed clean by the rain. I shall finish this letter and walk through the still evening, watch the moon rise, and think of you, your small hand tucked inside my arm, as we walked through the woods that evening when we pledged ourselves to one another. I send all my love with this letter, and as always, dearest Catherine, I remain,
your ever-affectionate,
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
16 July, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I am in receipt of your last, and I have read it so many times that it is nearly in tatters. I do not know if it is the warm weather, the thought of your sister's approaching wedding, or James' heartbroken conversation, but I have missed you acutely the past few days. I keep thinking about the time I spent at North(water spot) with you and Eleanor, and how (water spot) we all were together, and I cannot control my tears. Oh, why did such happiness have to end? Forgive me, Henry, I must--
(water spots)
17 July
Henry, dearest one, please excuse the miserable paragraph that I wrote yesterday. I was not going to send it to you; I know it will pain you to learn that I have been weeping again, but I also know that you would not wish me to hide my feelings from you. So there you have it. I am still sometimes unhappy. Mostly I am strong, and I have much to keep me busy and distracted, but sometimes such feelings come upon me unawares and I am unable to control them. I am truly sorry if my confession pains you. And I assure you that those feelings are under control today. Indeed my mother found me crying in my bed-chamber and immediately set me to work on making a new shirt for James to wear to the ball. She always says there is no cure for melancholy as effective as applying oneself on behalf of one's friends.
Poor James! He declares that he will not dance at the ball. I begin to wonder if this affair, which after all has been arranged entirely for his sake, will have the desired effect. It is terribly difficult for me to support him of late because of my own state of mind.
I believe my own dejection yesterday was the result of a fitting for my gown for the Allens' ball. I am so disappointed that you cannot be present that I was overwhelmed. However, I promise that I will wear the gown for you someday. I believe that you would like it very much. I hope someday to show it to Eleanor as well.
Her wedding day approaches so quickly! She sent me a short note last week, all happiness and joyous anticipation. It cheers me to read of her felicity. We shall be that blissful someday, Henry, I am determined!
My sister Harriet has just come in search of me; my mother requires my assistance, so I must close for now. I send all my love to you and to all at Woodston, and I remain,
your most affectionate and devoted
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
20 July, 1798
My love,
You must forgive me if I am distracted. My thoughts are with Eleanor today. They are married by now, Catherine; my little sister, whose hand I held as she stumbled through her first steps, whom I teased incessantly as a child, whom I watched grow into a lovely, accomplished, capable woman, is a viscountess! It is an entirely new and strange thought. I am mad with anticipation to see her again. I wonder if she will be different, or will she still be my same Eleanor?
We have always been close, especially since my mother's death. I remember when she arrived at Northanger from the friend's house in Kent where she had been visiting. She climbed out of the post-chaise and ran up to the door, all concern. My father had locked himself away in his study, and Frederick was not up to the task, so it fell to me to tell Eleanor that she was too late. It was the single most painful thing I have ever done. I watched the spark of hope in her eyes extinguished by her tears. I could do nothing for her but hold her, trying to absorb her grief although I still felt my own keenly. I pray that you never be compelled to perform that office for your brothers and sisters.
My emotions are strange today, half joyful and half sorrowful. My heart is joyful for my sister and her happiness and her escape from my father's tyranny. And was there ever a woman more suited for such a title? No one who meets her will believe that she was not born to the aristocracy.
And I am sorrowful because my sweet girl has been unhappy. You were correct, dearest; I was pained to learn that your spirits were low, that you wept again over our separation. Sometimes I think that I should not have spoken until I was able to offer myself to you without constraint. No, I could not rest until I had come to Fullerton that day and seen you safe; until I had explained my father's actions, although I could not excuse them; and in order to explain my father, first I had to explain myself. I cannot help but think, my love, that as unhappy as we both are now, our joy will be magnified exponentially when our day arrives. We must take our example from Eleanor, from her silent endurance, from her unending faith, and from her complete felicity as she begins her new life.
With that happy thought, I must close. I feel very close to you today, my dearest Catherine, and hold you in my heart. Be well, and know that I always will be
your own,
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
Fullerton Parsonage,
24 July, 1798
My dearest Henry,
I wish I could be at Woodston with you to share your joy and to soothe your sorrow. I remember that little furrow that would arise between your eyes when you were concerned or unhappy. How I would like to sit with you, hold your hand and ease that little furrow. How I would like to make you smile! The thought of my smiling and joyful Henry has sustained me through many a wearisome day. I know that you would not remain unhappy for long were we together.
So Eleanor is a viscountess! It will be strange to call her "your ladyship!" Yet I wish her joy, and I have joy in her happiness. And I am surprised at you for thinking that a title could create so material a change in her disposition! I am sure that you will find your sister the same lovely and caring woman that she has always been. The only possible changes in her as a result of marriage will be for the better, I feel sure. That bit of melancholy that always seemed to be about her will be gone. It was undoubtedly caused by her separation from her lover. Oh, dear! I wonder if anyone thinks there is an air of melancholy about me! I am convinced that I remain much the same. I shall consult with my sister to be sure.
In order to conquer my depression of spirits, I took your advice and accompanied my brothers on their latest angling expedition. Richard was delighted to have me along and endeavoured to show me the proper method of casting for trout. George also stayed with us, calling out directions when his methods deviated from Richard's. James had gone off by himself and was casting in a particular pool which he said had been lucky for him. We were all intent on our task when we heard an enormous splash, and looked around to find that James had slipped on a wet rock and fallen in the stream! He was a sorry sight indeed, trying to run on the rocky stream bottom in waist-deep water to retrieve his pole! He finally did so, and climbed out of the stream soaked to the skin and well pleased with his adventure. We all had a perfectly delightful time and caught a great deal of very large fish. Oh, Henry, it was so good to see my brother laugh again. Perhaps now I may hope that his heart will heal.
I have consulted the little account book that my mother gave to me before I left for Bath, and I found a note that I made surreptitiously one day whilst you were conversing with Eleanor. I believe that today is the anniversary of your birth, sir! And a happy and blessed day it is for me. I cannot imagine my life without my Henry, nor do I wish to. Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness today and every day in the coming year, and believe that they come from she who is
your faithful,
C.M.
The Rev. Mr. Tilney,
Woodston Parsonage,
Woodston, Gloucestershire
Woodston Parsonage,
27 July, 1798
My love,
Thank you for your kindness. You do cheer me, dearest, as no one else can. Your love sustains me through all trials, and your letters comfort me in my dark hours.
I thank you most sincerely for your kind birthday wishes. Frankly, I had forgotten all about it. Eleanor and I always had a small celebration, perhaps some wine and sweets, but outside her presence I had no reason to remember it until my dearest Catherine reminded me so sweetly.
My sister, my dearest, most generous Eleanor, actually wrote to me on her wedding day, shortly before she departed on her wedding-tour. I cannot believe that she turned her thoughts to me at such a time. She was all joy and anticipation, describing the route that they will follow on their tour. They are to travel to the North Riding and then on to Scotland. She has promised to bring back sketches of the beauties of nature that she no doubt will encounter on her travels. The Viscountess ------------ on the Picturesque. I would purchase such a book, would not you?
So you and your brothers caught a great deal of very large fish? If that is meant to be angler's embellishment, my love, it is of such an indeterminate nature that I quite despair for you. I know that it is not an art that comes naturally to your honest heart, so you must practice diligently. I am sure that your brothers will be glad to assist you in your endeavours.
I am indeed glad to hear that James has remembered how to laugh. A complete recovery cannot be far behind. I predict that his heart will be whole once more one month and one night from today, at the Allens' ball. A pretty young lady--not the prettiest young lady at the ball, of course, for all onlookers will agree that title shall belong to Mr. Morland's eldest sister--will capture his attention, and all his unhappiness will be forgotten.
I took Bear out today to practice retrieval in preparation for the beginning of grouse season. His enthusiasm cannot be denied; unfortunately, his proficiency will require some attention. I showed him the decoy and tossed it, but all he did was chase Ruby around in circles. I can only hope that he understands better with real game. The terriers had an enjoyable time, though, I think; they routed an entire battalion of squirrels, horse, foot, and artillery.
And so, my love, another month draws to a close. Another month without you; another month separated from my sister. These warm summer days seem to draw themselves out in an endless loop, and yet how much has happened in the past several weeks! One wonders if August will bring such events. I shall retire and think upon it, Catherine, and think even more upon you, your sweet face, your soft curls, and the way your eyes glow when I kiss you, and I will be very surprised if I am able to sleep at all. I send you all my love, dearest one, and I remain,
your most constant and affectionate,
H.T.
Miss Morland,
Fullerton Parsonage,
Fullerton, Wiltshire
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