75 — To Elizabeth Bridget Pigot
Trin. Coll. Camb. July 5, 1807.
Since my last letter I have determined to reside
another year
at Granta, as my rooms, etc., etc., are finished in great style, several old friends come up again, and many new acquaintances made; consequently my inclination leads me forward, and I shall return to college in October if still
alive
. My life here has been one continued routine of dissipation — out at different places every day, engaged to more dinners, etc., etc., than my
stay
would permit me to fulfil. At this moment I write with a bottle of claret in my
head
and
tears
in my
eyes
; for I have just parted with my "
Cornelian
" who spent the evening with me. As it was our last interview, I postponed my engagement to devote the hours of the
Sabbath
to friendship:— Edleston and I have separated for the present, and my mind is a chaos of hope and sorrow. To-morrow I set out for London: you will address your answer to "Gordon's Hotel, Albemarle Street," where I
sojourn
during my visit to the metropolis.
I rejoice to hear you are interested in my
protégé
; he has been my
almost constant
associate since October, 1805, when I entered Trinity College. His
voice
first attracted my attention, his
countenance
fixed it, and his
manners
attached me to him for ever. He departs for a
mercantile house
in
town
in October, and we shall probably not meet till the expiration of my minority, when I shall leave to his decision either entering as a
partner
through my interest, or residing with me altogether. Of course he would in his present frame of mind prefer the
latter
, but he may alter his opinion previous to that period; — however, he shall have his choice. I certainly love him more than any human being, and neither time nor distance have had the least effect on my (in general) changeable disposition.
In
short, we shall, put
Lady E. Butler
and
Miss Ponsonby
to the blush,
Pylades
and
Orestes
out of countenance, and want nothing but a catastrophe like
Nisus
and
Euryalus
, to give
Jonathan
and
David
the "go by." He certainly is perhaps more attached to
me
than even I am in return. During the whole of my residence at Cambridge we met every day, summer and winter, without passing
one
tiresome moment, and separated each time with increasing reluctance. I hope you will one day see us together. He is the only being I esteem, though I
like
many.
The
Marquis of Tavistock
was down the other day; I supped with him at his tutor's — entirely a Whig party. The opposition muster strong here now, and Lord Hartington, the Duke of Leinster, etc., etc., are to join us in October, so every thing will be
splendid
. The
music
is all over at present. Met with another "
accidency
" — upset a butter-boat in the lap of a lady — look'd very
blue
—
spectators
grinned — "curse 'em!" Apropos, sorry to say, been
drunk
every day, and not quite
sober
yet — however, touch no meat, nothing but fish, soup, and vegetables, consequently it does me no harm — sad dogs all the
Cantabs
. Mem. —
we mean
to reform next January. This place is a
monotony of endless variety
— like it — hate Southwell. Has Ridge sold well? or do the ancients demur? What ladies have bought?
Saw
a girl at St. Mary's the image of Anne — —
, thought it was her — all in the wrong — the lady stared, so did I — I
blushed
, so did
not
the lady, — sad thing — wish women had
more modesty
. Talking of women, puts me in mind of my terrier Fanny — how is she? Got a headache, must go to bed, up early in the morning to travel. My
protégé
breakfasts with me; parting spoils my appetite — excepting from Southwell. Mem.
I hate Southwell
.
Yours, etc.
Footnote 1:
Lady Eleanor Butler (c. 1745-1829), sister of the seventeenth Earl of Ormonde, and Sarah Ponsonby (circ. 1755-1831), cousin of the Earl of Bessborough, were the two "Ladies of the Vale," or "Ladies of Llangollen." About the year 1779 they settled in a cottage at Plasnewydd, in the Vale of Llangollen, where they lived, with their maidservant, Mary Caryll, for upwards of half a century. They are buried, with their servant, in the churchyard of Plasnewydd, under a triangular pyramid. Though they had withdrawn from the world, they watched its proceedings with the keenest interest.
"If," writes Mrs. Piozzi, from Brynbella, July 9, 1796, "Mr. Bunbury's Little Gray Man is printed, do send it hither; the ladies at Llangollen are dying for it. They like those old Scandinavian tales and the imitations of them exceedingly; and tell me about the prince and princess of this loyal country, one province of which alone had disgraced itself"
(
Life and Writings of Mrs. Piozzi
, vol. ii. p. 234). Nor did they despise the theatre. Charles Mathews (
Memoirs
, vol. iii. pp. 150, 151), writing from Oswestry, September 4, 1820, says,
"The dear inseparable inimitables, Lady Butler and Miss Ponsonby, were in the boxes here on Friday. They came twelve miles from Llangollen, and returned, as they never sleep from home. Oh, such curiosities! I was nearly convulsed.... As they are seated, there is not one point to distinguish them from men; the dressing and powdering of the hair; their well-starched neckcloths; the upper part of their habits, which they always wear, even at a dinner-party, made precisely like men's coats; and regular black beaver men's hats. They looked exactly like two respectable superannuated old clergymen.... I was highly flattered, as they never were in the theatre before."
Among the many people who visited them in their retreat, and have left descriptions of them, are Madame de Genlis, De Quincey, Prince Pückler-Muskau. Their friendships were sung by Sotheby and Anne Seward, and their cottage was depicted by Pennant.
"It is very singular," writes John Murray, August 24, 1829, to his son (Memoir of John Murray, vol. ii. p. 304), "that the ladies, intending to retire from the world, absolutely brought all the world to visit them, for after a few years of seclusion their strange story was the universal subject of conversation, and there has been no person of rank, talent, and importance in any way who did not procure introductions to them."
Footnote 2:
Lord Tavistock's experience at Cambridge resembled that of Byron. He had received only a "pretended education," and the Duke of Bedford had come to the conclusion that "nothing was learned at English Universities." "Tavistock left Cambridge in May," Lord J. Russell notes in his Diary for 1808, "having been there in supposition two years" (Walpole's
Life of Lord John Russell
, vol. i. pp. 44 and 35).
Footnote 3:
Probably Miss Anne Houson, daughter of the Rev. Henry Houson of Southwell. She married the Rev. Luke Jackson, died December 25, 1821, and is buried at Hucknall Torkard. (For verses addressed to her, see
Poems
, vol. i. pp. 70-2, 244-45, 246-47, 251-52, 253.)
