Miss Eden's Letters. Eden Emily
tied with a yellow ribbon, and not a blue one, and when we had found it and made Bob ride to Greenwich41 as fast as he could, he found Mr. Dyer laughing by himself at the fuss you and Morton were in. He said the chest was broken open at a quarter past twelve and is now broken up for life. Which of your brothers-in-law do you like best? because I cannot make up my mind quite to either, though I believe I like lame Whishaw better than the venerable Paul. Mama is really fidgetty about them; and if you write again, will you let us know whether Mary is really as pleasant as she pretends to be and whether she did not make you underline the words “deservedly liked” in your last letter? Because it looked very suspicious… Talking of Fooleys, by the bye, Mr. and Miss Vansittart come here this afternoon, and I am grown duller than ever. Thank you for your verses, which we liked very much. Ever your affectionate sister,
MY DEAR EMILY, Here we are once more within 30 miles of home, came here late yesterday, everybody at dinner – Mary in such a fright you never saw – such a silence you never heard – room so hot you never felt – dinner so cold you never tasted – dogs so tiresome you never smelt. So we must go to Shottesbrook bon gré, mal gré. Hang labels round your necks when we arrive on Wednesday or Thursday with your names on them (like the decanters) for do what we will, Mary and I cannot recollect your faces. Are you the one with the long nose?
Lady Riversdale’s maid has had an offer of marriage, and she has refused it, because she “had not that attachment that ought to subside between man and wife.”
Mind that, girls, and don’t marry rashly. Yours, and a day no more foolish than yourself,
MY DEAREST SISTER, As the Queen has been so uncivil and even spiteful to me and my sattin gown, as to put off the drawing-room, our three letters per day upon dress may now cease, and this is merely a letter of thanks for all the trouble you have taken with Wynne, Pontet, lace, notes, hoops, drapery, sattin, carriers, feathers, jewels, etc., and which have unluckily, by this strange and unaccountable spitefulness of H.M., all proved useless.
Poor Beckenham is gone mad about the corn laws,43 and have revenged themselves on poor innocent harmless out-of-the-way George, by drawing him on the walls hanging as comfortably as possible, and Mr. Cator on another gibbet opposite to him. Mr. Colvile44 is also hanging somewhere else… Every house and wall is covered with mottoes, and “No corn laws” in every direction. Ever your affectionate,
MY DEAREST SISTER, We had not expected the satisfaction of two letters from you to-day… A letter that condescends to speak of two housemaids, without talking of battles and Bonaparte, is a very delightful novelty, as I am quite tired of rejoicing and lamenting over this news45 which, upon the whole, strikes me as very melancholy, though I know that is a very wrong feeling.
There have yet been no accounts of poor Lady Delancey!46 She must have had a horrible shock at first, as Sir William, believing himself to be dying, refused at first to be removed from the field of battle, which gave rise to the report of his death. Poor Lady I. Hay quitted London at six yesterday morning to inform her father,47 who was in the country, of Lord Hay’s death. He was not more than nineteen, and was a friend of Bob’s at Eton.
The George Elliots48 came here to dinner yesterday, with their youngest child, who is a very fine child, and as a baby, I thought its name might be interesting to you, though it was not very different from other children, except that it had, on its cap a lilac satin cockade,49 which is naturally a very pretty thing, though a baby sewed to it does not add to its beauty.
That is, however, a mere matter of taste.
Mrs. G. Elliot we all like, and she has full as much sense as the rest of the world, and would be as pleasant, if her manner was not rather hurried and rough, evidently from shyness and a fear of being thought dull.
Except these, we have not seen anybody, not even a neighbour, nor do I believe there are such things as neighbours left in the world, and it is much too hot to go and look for them if they are yet alive.
Mrs. Green, poor woman, seems to think you a little dull, but I always told you how it would be when you lost me, and I am glad to see Mrs. Green has so much penetration. Ever your affectionate sister,
We heard yesterday from the Selkirks50 a certain account of poor Sir W. Delancey’s death,51 and we heard it also from several other good authorities. The Selkirks have been in town every day in hopes of hearing either of or from Lady Delancey, but without success. Her situation is most dreadful, as he died at Waterloo, so she is not near any acquaintance she might have made at Brussels. She is but eighteen, and literally just out of the nursery. She has with her only a new maid, whom Lady Selkirk procured for her but three weeks ago. It appears very shocking that none of her relations should have gone to her on hearing of his wound, as she will now have every detail to manage for herself, and her return to Penge, which she quitted in such violent spirits not a month ago, will be dreadful. The Selkirks expect her every hour.
I have just been interrupted by the arrival of the Lansdowne children, who are come here for the afternoon to make Lady Lansdowne’s excuse for not coming to take leave before she goes out of town. The little girl52 is the prettiest little thing I ever saw – the smallest child – looking like a fairy for all the world.
We were all very sorry to hear of poor Comte Meerveldt’s53 death, for her distress must be very great. Little Rodolphe will now be a great consolation to her. Lady Selkirk has had one very short note from poor Lady Delancey.54 It was almost too composed to be comfortable to her friends. She said her husband had died at Waterloo, and was buried the morning she wrote, at Brussels, and she wished Lady Selkirk would have his picture done immediately by Heaphy,55 as that was the only thing she could now live for. She made no complaint, except saying that she had had but one very happy week at Brussels, which was over, and that she was sure Lady Selkirk, at least, would feel for such a very wretched creature. She is expected at Penge to-morrow. There is an odd mixture of joy and sorrow in that house, as Lady K. Douglas56 is married there to-day, which is rather astonishing, considering the state her family is in…
MY DEAREST GEORGE, I put a most excellent joke in these two first lines, but was obliged to efface them from my fear of the police, but it is inserted in sympathetic Ink, and if you will hold it for ¾ of an hour by a very hot fire, rubbing it violently the whole time without intermission, with the back of your hat and one hand, I daresay you will find it.
We are much as you left us. I cannot buy any sheep yet, for the price has risen in the market prodigiously, and we must wait a little, but Walsh is to go to Smithfield this week to see how things are. In your directions you left out a very important word, whether the ferrule should be fixed in the bottom, or the seat of the Tilbury. I
Lord Auckland was auditor of Greenwich Hospital.
Dropmore belonged to William Wyndham, Lord Grenville.
The Corn Law of 1815 which closed the ports to the importation of foreign grain till the prices reached eighty shillings a quarter.
Miss Eden’s brother-in-law.
The battle of Waterloo had been fought on the 18th June.
Magdalene, daughter of Sir J. Hall, Bart., married Sir William Howe Delancey, K.C.B., in March or April 1815. He was mortally wounded at Waterloo.
William, 15th Earl of Erroll.
George Elliot, son of the first Earl of Minto; married in 1810 Eliza Cecilia, daughter of James Ness of Osgodby, York. He commanded the Chinese Expedition in 1840.
This was a party badge.
Thomas, 5th Earl of Selkirk, married, 1807, Jean, daughter of James Wedderburn Colvile. He was Lady Delancey’s uncle.
Sir William Delancey died in a cottage in the village of Mont St. Jean a week after he was wounded. His wife wrote a description of his death, which was published in 1906:
Lady Louisa Fitzmaurice, married in 1845 Hon. James Kenneth Howard.
The Austrian Ambassador died on July 4.
Lady Delancey married, secondly, in 1819, Captain H. Harvey.
Thomas Heaphy, 1775-1835. He painted on the spot Wellington and his officers before an action in the Peninsular War.
Lady Katherine Douglas, sister of Lord Selkirk, married in July 1815 John Halkett, Governor of the Bahamas.