To Cassandra, Godmersham, 26 October 1813
Headnote
Letter LXVIII in Lord Brabourne’s 1884 numbering, to Cassandra Austen from Godmersham, 26 October 1813. Reproduced from the Brabourne edition of Austen’s correspondence (Internet Archive rec. 000017); Brabourne’s frame is omitted, and unambiguous scanner errors are corrected and logged.
Godmersham Park: Tuesday (Oct.
MY DEAREST CASSANDRA,
You will have had such late accounts from this place as (I hope) to prevent your expecting a letter from me immediately, as I really do not think I have wherewithal to fabricate one to-day. I suspect this will be* brought to you by our nephews; tell me if it is. It is a great pleasure to me to think of you with Henry. I am sure your time must pass most comfortably, and I trust you are seeing improvement in him every day. I shall be most happy to hear from you again. Your Saturday’s letter, however, was quite as long and as particular as I could expect. I am not at all in a humour for writing; I must write on till I am.
Our gentlemen are all gone to their Sittingbourne meeting, East and West Kent, in one barouche together — rather, West Kent driving East Kent. I believe that is not the usual way of the county. We breakfasted before nine, and do not dine till
half-past six on the occasion, so 1 hope we three shall have a long morning enough.
Mr. Deecles and Sir Brook — I do not care for Sir Brook’s being a baronet; I will put Mr. Deedes first because I like him a great deal the best. They arrived together yesterday, for the Bridges’ are staying at Sandling, just before dinner; both gentlemen much as they used to be, only growing a little older. They leave us to-morrow.
You were clear of Guildford by half-an-hour, and were winding along the pleasant road to Ripley when the Charleses set off on Friday. I hope we shall have a visit from them at Chawton in the spring or early part of the summer. They seem well inclined. Gassy had recovered her looks almost entirely, and I find they do not consider the ’ Namur ’ as disagreeing with her in general, only when the weather is so • rough as to make her sick.
Our Canterbury scheme took place as proposed, and very pleasant it was — Harriot and I and little George within, my brother on the box with the master coachman. I was most happy to find my brother included in the party. It was a great improvement, and he and Harriot and I walked about together very happily, while Mr.
Moore took his little boy with him to tailor’s and h air-cutter’s.
Our chief business was to call on Mrs. Milles, and we had, indeed, so little else to do that we were obliged to saunter about anywhere and L:‹› backwards and forwards as much as possible to make out the time and keep ourselves from having two hours to sit with the good lady — a most extraordinary circumstance in a Canterbury morning.
Old Toke.came in while we were paying our visit. I thought of Louisa. Miss Milles was queer as usual, and provided us with plenty to laugh at. She undertook in three words to give us the history of Mrs. Scudamore’s reconciliation, and then talked on about it for half-an-hour, using such odd expressions, and so foolishly minute, that I could hardly keep my countenance. The death of Wyndham Knatchbull’s son will rather supersede the Scudamores. I told her that he was to be buried at Hatch. She had heard, with military honours, at Portsmouth. We may guess how that point will be discussed evening after evening.
Owing to a difference of clocks the coach man did not bring the carriage so soon as he ought by half-an-hour; anything like a breach of punctuality was a great offence, and Mr. Moore
very angry, which I was rather glad of. I wanted to see him angry; and, though lie spoke to his servant in a very loud voice and with a good deal of heat, I was happy to perceive that he did not scold Harriot at all. Indeed, there is nothing to object to in his manners to her, and I do believe that he makes her — or she makes herself — very happy. They do not spoil their boy.
It seems now quite settled that we go to Wrotham on Saturday, the 13th, spend Sunday there, and proceed to London on Monday, as before intended. I like the plan. I shall be glad to see Wrotham. Harriot is quite as pleasant as ever. We are very comfortable together, and talk over our nephews and nieces occasionally, as may be supposed, and with much unanimity; and I really like Mr. M. better than I expected — see less in him to dislike.
I begin to perceive that you will have this letter to-morrow. It is throwing a letter away to send it by a visitor; there is never convenient time for reading it, and visitor can tell most things as well. I had thought with delight of saving you the post age, but money is dirt. If you do not regret the loss of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire I will not, though I certainly had wished for your
going very much. ’ Whatever is, is best.’ There has been one infallible Pope in the world.
George Hatton called yesterday, and I saw him, saw him for ten minutes; sat in the same room with him, heard him talk, saw him bow, and was not in raptures. I discerned nothing extraordinary. I should speak of him as a gentlemanlike young man — eh! hen tout est dit. We are expecting the ladies of the family this morning.
How do you like your flounce? We have seen only plain flounces. I hope you have not cut off the train of your bombazin. I cannot reconcile myself to giving them up as morning gowns; they are so very sweet by candlelight. I would rather sacrifice my blue one for that purpose; in short, I do not know and I do not care.
She has had a letter of excuse from Mary Plumptre to-day. The death of Mr. Ripley, their uncle by marriage, and Mr. P.’s very old friend, prevents their receiving her. Poor blind Mrs. Ripley must be felt for, if there is any feeling to be had for love or money.
We have had another of Edward Bridges* Sunday visits. I think the pleasantest part of his married life must be the dinners, and breakfasts, and luncheons, and billiards that he gets in this way at Gm. Poor wretch! he is quite the dregs of the family as to luck.
I long to know whether you are buying stockings or what you are doing. Keinember me most kindly to Mde. B. and Mrs. Perigord. You will get acquainted with my friend, Mr. Philips, and hear him talk from books, and be sure to have something odd happen to you, see somebody that you do not expect, meet with some surprise or other, find some old friend sitting with Henry when you come into the room. Do something clever in that way. Edward and I settled that you went to St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, on Sunday. Mrs. Hill will come and see you, or else she won’t come and see you and will write instead.
I have had a late account from Steventon, and a baddish one, as far as Ben is concerned. He has declined a curacy (apparently highly eligible),, which he might have secured against his taking orders; and, upon its being made rather a serious question, says he has not made up his mind as to taking orders so early, and that, if her father makes
a point of it, he must give Anna up rather than do what lie does not approve. They are going on again at present as before, but it cannot last. Mary says that Anna is very unwilling to go to Chawton and will get home again as soon as she can. Good-bye. Accept this indifferent letter and think it long and good. Miss Clewes is better for some prescription of Mr. Scudamore’s, and, indeed, seems tolerably stout now. I find time in the midst of port and Madeira to think of the fourteen bottles of mead very often.
Yours very affectionately, J. A.
Lady Elizabeth, her second daughter, and the two Mrs. Finches have just left us; the two latter friendly, and talking, and pleasant as usual.