1. Belgrave Street.
Sunday 26. August. | 1832.
My dear Charles.
If you have ever thought of me I fear it has only been to upbraid me with forgetfulness
of the promise I made to write to you. I assure you my own conscience has reproached me
very very often, but I know I need not say that forgetfulness of you did not
cause my silence, indeed, my dear Charles, no day has elapsed without your occupying
some of my thoughts, & it was with very great pleasure I heard such good
accounts had been received of you, Papa was much pleased with your letter,
which he had about a fortnight ago, & I dare say has answered by this time.
Susan tells me to direct to Monte Video, but I am afraid it may be very uncertain when
this reaches your hands, whenever it does, I hope you will write & tell me so,
without waiting till you are at Terra del
Fuego from whence you know you promised me a letter— I often think
what a wonderful number of changes have taken place amongst your Friends, since you saw
them.— Fanny's marriage must have surprised you not a little, then
the ``incomparable Charlottes'', & her Brother, Mr
F. Wedgwood, I think your Cousin Hensleigh was twined off before you
sailed & you must have been detained long enough at Portsmouth to hear that my
execution had actually taken place, since which awful time, I have, I assure
you, been as happy as a Queen, & have really nothing left to wish for
being sadly spoilt & indulged by Edward, who is an Angel all but the Wings, (as
Harry Wedgwood said of the ``incomparable Charlotte's husband)— I do think
there never was such a temper, you may imagine its excellence, when I
tell you that even one of the Warlike race of Owen has never yet contrived to
make a fight, or even a dispute, whether it is that the Owen blood is fast degenerating,
I know not, but such is the fact.— I must try & give you some account
of my life & adventures since we parted— When I married instead of
going a shivering tour in the month of November, in search of the Picturesque, I
declared I would instantly proceed on a romantic tour to London—where we
arrived the day afterwards, that same evening I went to see Miss Fanny Kemble (Heavens & Earth, I hear you exclaim,) & continued
my Theatrical Tour for a week or more; till I had visited every play house then
open— We soon afterwards returned to Eaton, where we remained till the end of
January, & excellent fun we had, hunting almost every day with the
Beagles—I mounted on a steady seasoned old Hunter, with as much sense as any
Christian, he carried me most delightfully over most things, & never gave me a
fall, he has since become my own property, he has been at grass all summer, & I
hope to find him in hunting condition when the season begins— but to return to
my story, we left Eaton the end of January & went to stay at my Brother
Richard's, in Pall Mall, whilst we were furnishing this
house, which we took possession of the end of February, & I have never left it
since, except for a few day's visit to the Bruces who have taken a place near
Windsor— In March I had a very severe illness, which laid me up for some time,
as soon as I was able, I thought a ride would do me good, & accordingly mounted
a 4 year old Grey Mare which Edward had bought for me from Mr.
Gore <&> we went into the Park, (it was my sec<ond
ti>me of riding her) & had just got opposite the Serpentine, when she
started across the road at a Dog, turned short round, & down I came, her feet
were unluckily entangled in my habit, & in trying to get away, she put her foot
on my Ancle bone & the caulking of her shoe took a piece clear out, had
it been half an inch lower, the Surgeons say I should have lost the joint— I
jumped up directly, fancying I had only strained my ancle, & Edward put me into
the house belonging to the Humane Society whilst he fetched the Carriage to
take me home, that very evening Caroline & Arthur arrived, poor Arthur to
prepare for his Voyage & the whole time he staid, I was never able to leave my
bed the wound was so bad—it was 9 weeks before I was able to walk. I
went about with a Crutch, & was lifted in & out of the
Carriage— Edward would not consent to my riding this unlucky grey Mare any
more, & I was obliged to sell her, but have supplied her place by a very nice
Bay, which exactly suits me— Poor Arthur sailed the middle of May, he took
with him a most tremendous looking Bull Dog, rather an odd Dog to choose, I thought but
he was told it would be more useful to him than any other— We heard from him
at Madeira, & he seemed to enjoy his voyage much poor boy, I hope he will be
steady, when he arrives in India, & then there can be little doubt of his doing
well— Caroline went down for Fanny's Wedding, & then returned here
with Mama, they staid 5 weeks with us, came up & returned per
Wonder, which they say is the most delightful of earthly
conveyances— I feel quite odd at being left by myself so many hours in the
day, for Edward goes to Shop about 11 & seldom returns before
5 or half past, it is very provoking we are detained in London so late this
year, owing to Mr. Powell's absence, but I hope to see Eaton about the
second week in Septr. & then we shall remain there till after
Xmas— I never was so long in London before, but I am such a thorough
Cockney that I like it better than any other place, on the long run, & am
glad it is my fate to spend so much time in it— Fanny has been in Town for
3 weeks, but is now returned to Chirk Castle, which I fear she will not find
very pleasant for some time to come, as Mrs & Miss Biddulph are
there for a few Months, & she is sadly in awe of them both. Who would
have thought she would have married so soon after that unfortunate Citadel
Affair!!— Caroline is now in possession of the
title of Miss Owen, I assure you she is much come forward since she
attained that dignity— Emma I suppose will make her public appearance
this Winter, I hear she is much improved lately, but it is more than 6 months
since I have seen her— That ``rising Star of Ton'' Matty Cotton is also very
flourishing— Of course all the other Shropshire Marriages have been announced
to you—Miss Boughey & Mr. E. Fielding, Miss
Parker,—& Sir Baldwin—Mr Mainwaring's
intended marriage to Miss Salisbury, and Mr Henry Lloyd's to a
Bristol heiress, as soon as he gets a Living— If you do not make haste home,
you will find nothing but dead dogs in Shropshire— Clare Leighton is
still Clare Leighton, & I hear no talk of her changing her name, I am
sure you would be sorry to hear of poor Mrs Mathew's sudden death. I do
think nobody was ever so generally lamented, poor Mr. Mathew is not
likely ever to recover it I fear— Erasmus dined with us not long ago,
& I also met him at dinner at the Hollands—by the bye
Mr. Holland is married & done for since you went— I
cannot say I much admire his choice though I am not so violent as Erasmus, who declares
i<f sh>e was to offer him 5£ to give her a kiss, he would
not— Catherine is now on a visit to the Hollands, in
Gloucestershire— I shall be most delighted, my dear Charles, to
receive a letter from you, I have not forgotten the solemn promise you made me
to come to No 1 Belgrave St as soon as you
arrived in London—dine with us, & go to the Play— I
wonder when that day will come!! I hope you continue to like your ``Angel in the
disguise of a
Sea Captain'' as much as ever, have you made a large collection of
Curiosities— I often laugh when I think of your very last walk in the
Forest, when you discovered & rooted up those horrible funguses,
& bottled them for the Professors at Cambridge— I should
prefer living curiosities such as Monkeys or Parrots, which I have a great
fancy for— I have now got 3 Pets—a Bull finch, &
2 nondescript little foreign birds. I had the < > misfortune to
lose poor Beppo, who was taken by some wretch in human form when he had been
3 weeks in Town— I like this house very much, it is so airy &
quiet —you will laugh at this being a recommendation to
me, but you have no idea what a sober steady Matron I am become &
strange to say, I have almost entirely lost my taste for gaiety & going
out— You will hardly believe it is Sarah Owen who writes in this
strain, but so it is— And now I fear I must bring this long scribble to a
conclusion. Heaven knows when or where it may reach you, but whenever
it does, I hope it will convince you that you are not & never will be forgotten
by one of your oldest Friends, who now remains very sincerely, &
affectely Yours, | S. H. Hosier Williams | (how does
it look)
A letter directed Belgrave St. will always find me—
God bless you, my dear Charles, I will write again <very>
soon—
