Sunday, August 29, 2021

Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to their tutor Peter Vasilievich Petrov, New Year 1909

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia with their brother the Tsesarevich Alexei Nikolaevich of Russia. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.




The letter:

Съ Новымъ 1909 Годомъ
поздравляемъ Васъ и очень благодаримъ за карточки. Кланяемся Вамъ.
Царское-Село.
Ольга. Татьяна.
Марія. Анастасія.

With modernised spelling:

С Новым 1909 Годом
поздравляем Вас и очень благодарим за карточки. Кланяемся Вам.
Царское-Село.
Ольга. Татьяна.
Мария. Анастасия.

English translation (my own):

Happy New Year 1909.
We congratulate and thank you very much for the cards. We send our regards to you.
Tsarskoe Selo.
Olga. Tatiana.
Maria. Anastasia.

Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to her mother Empress Alexandra Feodorovna of Russia, dated May 9, 1910

Source:

George Hawkins at Letters and writings of Nicholas II and his family on Facebook



Above: Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.


Above: Empress Alexandra Feodorovna of Russia, formerly Princess Alix of Hesse-Darmstadt. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.

The letter:

Tsarskoe Selo
9 May 1910
My own tenderly beloved Mama dear!
God bless you and give you strength and happyness. Get please well again. It is so awfully sad you are ill my beautyful love. But God grant everything will soon pass and get happy. "Yes, Thee are, have been and will be, evermore all good and perfect things, therefore whatsoever thou givest me beside thyself is little and less than thyself and from thee we have all and therefore in all things Thou art to be glorified." This is fr. a little book you gave me last 1909 Easter.

Sleep well Angel dear.

Many hearty tender kisses to you my awfully sweet precious darling Mama, fr yr ever very, very own tenderly loving and true daughter
Olga

Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to her aunt Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna of Russia, dated September 28, 1909

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia, with a sailor on the family yacht the Standart. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.


Above: Her paternal aunt, Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna of Russia.



Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia (born June 5/18, 1901, died July 17, 1918) was the fourth and youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and Empress Alexandra Feodorovna. She was the younger sister of the Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana and Maria and elder sister to the Tsarevich Alexei. Anastasia was famous, and sometimes infamous, within her family for being a big joker, imitator and prankster, to the point that she was nicknamed "Schwipsich", a German word meaning "imp" or "little mischief". As a teenager, during the First World War, her cheerful, ever optimistic disposition and constant joking was a great comfort to the wounded soldiers in the care of her mother and eldest sisters; and during the final months of their captivity after her father's forced abdication, she was the only one able to distract and amuse her family away from the despair, terror and uncertainty of their daily lives. Anastasia was shot to death along with her parents and siblings by a group of Bolsheviks in the early morning hours of July 17, 1918, just one month after her seventeenth birthday.

Rumours of Anastasia's possible survival and escape from the assassination and which claimed that she was living somewhere under a new identity, either through trauma-induced amnesia or a need to go into hiding, began circulating almost immediately after her death and persisted for decades, fueled by the fact that the location of her burial was unknown during the over 70 years of Communist rule in Russia. The abandoned mine serving as a mass grave near Ekaterinburg which held the acidified skeletal remains of the Tsar, his wife, three of their daughters, and four loyal servants who died with them was originally found in 1979 and revealed in 1991. These remains of the family were laid to rest among their Romanov ancestors in a state funeral at the St. Peter and Paul Fortress on July 17, 1998, 80 years to the day after they had been killed. The fragmented and burnt remains of Alexei and one of his older sisters were found in 2007, a short distance away from the original burial site. Although Anastasia was among the bodies found in the 1991 grave, opinion has been divided on whether the remains of the girl found with Alexei are those of her or Maria. Regardless, Anastasia's long-rumoured escape and survival has been tragically disproven beyond doubt. Scientific and DNA analysis confirmed that the remains found are indeed those of the Romanovs, proving that all four of the Grand Duchesses were killed in 1918. In an ironic twist, Anastasia's very name means "resurrection", a fact that is often pointed out in rumours of her survival. Said rumours have inspired films, books, and even a Broadway musical.

In the decades that followed the Romanov murders, several women came forward claiming to be Anastasia, the best-known of these impostors being Anna Anderson. Her body was cremated upon her death in 1984, but DNA testing in 1994 on available pieces of her body tissue taken during an operation found that she was not a Romanov, not royal, and not even Russian. She was most likely Franziska Schanzkowska, a Polish factory worker who went missing as a young woman and who had a history of mental illness.

The letter:

1909 28
сентебря
Дорогая тетя Ольга
какъ твое здоровье
гдеты теперь я нодѣюсь что ятебя увижу мы все тебя цѣлуем ты купаешся въ море или нетъ?

Мы купались а вчера я не купалась. Какая увасъ погода.
Креснеца
Анастасія.

With modernised spelling:

1909 28
сентебря
Дорогая тетя Ольга
как твое здоровье
гдеты теперь я нодеюсь что ятебя увижу мы все тебя целуем ты купаешся в море или нет?

Мы купались а вчера я не купалась. Какая увас погода.
Креснеца
Анастасия.

With regular/corrected spelling, spacing and punctuation:

1909. 28
сентября
Дорогая тетя Ольга,
Как твое здоровье?
Где ты теперь? Я надеюсь что я тебя увижу. Мы все тебя целуем. Ты купаешся в море или нет?

Мы купались, а вчера я не купалась. Какая у вас погода?
Крестница
Анастасия.

English translation (my own):

1909. 28
September
Dear aunt Olga
how is your health
where are you now i hope i will see you we all kiss you are you swimming in the sea or no.

We went swimming and yesterday I did not swim. What is your weather like.
[Your] Goddaughter
Anastasia.

Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna of Russia's letter to her granddaughter Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia, year 1909

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna of Russia, formerly Princess Dagmar of Denmark.


Above: Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.



The letter:

1909
My darling Olga. I thank you so much for yr. nice letter & the photos: & send you this card of my arrival. I hope you have nice warm weather.

I miss you all very much & kiss you as yr. loving old Бабушка

Danish translation (my own):

1909
Min elskede Olga. Jeg takker dig så meget for dit dejlige brev og fotoerne: og sender dig dette kort af min ankomst. Jeg håber, I har dejligt varmt vejr.

Jeg savner jer alle meget og kysser jer som jeres kærlige gamle Babusjka.

Russian translation (by Olga Grigor'eva):

Моя дорогая Ольга. Очень благодарна тебе за твое милое письмо и фото; и отправлю тебе эту карточку моего прибытия. Я надеюсь, что у вас хорошая теплая погода.

Я очень скучаю по всем Вам и целую. Ваша любящая старая Бабушка.

Note: Бабушка = Grandmama (Bedstemor).

Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to her father Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, New Year 1908

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.


Above: Her father, Tsar Nicholas II of Russia.



The letter:

Ц. С. 1908 г.
1-го Янв.
Мой милый и дорогой Папа!
Отъ всей души поздравляю Тебя съ наступающимъ 1908 годомъ и желаю Тебѣ какъ можно лучше встрѣтить этотъ праздникъ. Цѣлую и обнимаю Тебя крѣпко, крѣпко.
Твоя всегда любящая дочка
Ольга.
Спи хорошо 1 день 1908 года.

With modernised spelling:

Ц. С. 1908 г.
1-го Янв.
Мой милый и дорогой Папа!
От всей души поздравляю Тебя с наступающим 1908 годом и желаю Тебе как можно лучше встретить этот праздник. Целую и обнимаю Тебя крепко, крепко.
Твоя всегда любящая дочка
Ольга.
Спи хорошо 1 день 1908 года.

English translation (my own):

T[sarskoe] S[elo] 1908
Jan. 1.
My sweet, dear Papa! I heartily congratulate You on the coming year 1908 and wish You to best meet this holiday. I kiss and hug You tightly.
Your always loving daughter
Olga.
Sleep well this 1st day of the year 1908.

Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to her tutor Peter Vasilievich Petrov, year 1908

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna of Russia with her older sister Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia. Photo courtesy of Ilya Chishko at lastromanovs on VK.


The letter:

Милый Петръ Васильевич!
Очень благодарю Васъ за колбасу. Какъ Ваше здоровье? Буду рисовать.
Очень Вамъ кланяюсь.
Ваша ученица Татьяна.
1908 Ц. С.

With modernised spelling:

Милый Петр Васильевич!
Очень благодарю Вас за колбасу. Как Ваше здоровье? Буду рисовать.
Очень Вам кланяюсь.
Ваша ученица Татьяна.
1908 Ц. С.

English translation (my own):

Dear Peter Vasilievich!
I thank you very much for the sausage. How is your health? I will draw.
I send you many regards.
Your pupil Tatiana.
1908 Ts[arskoe] S[elo].

Wednesday, August 25, 2021

"Replijk op het aartige Vers van de Hoog-geleerde Heer Ludolph Smids", by Titia Brongersma, year 1686

Source:

De bron-swaan, of mengeldigten, Titia Brongersma, 1686


The poem:

Gy sijt dan als het schijnt verstoort, en ongerust,
Om dat men u (die eer veelmond'ren gingt te boven)
Ontgraven heeft, gy wert soo wel als doen gekust
Van veele, die daar door u aart, en waarde Looven
'k Had deernis met u, wijl nog 't soute tranenat
Drong door u hals tot aan de gront van 't ingepropte
Geraamt' terwijl ik voor u op mijn knyen sat
En 't keyeg stof van u gewyde Deeg'len klopte.

'k Sag u verdrukt, en mee gedompelt in de Rouw
Daar gy als levenloos, in 't duystre Graf most sterven
Schoon 't onderwelfsel van soo'n treffelijk gebouw
Besloot het overschot van u verbroken scherven,
Daar waar het, dat ik u met droeve Oogen sag
Hoe gy getorst, geknelt laagt onder herde stenen
En in het Sonne ligt med eygen hande lag
Dies stap ik moedig met u overblijfsels heene.
En stel de beendren, en u lang bedolven vles
Voor yders Oog, en strek u voor een Minnares.

Friday, August 6, 2021

Empress Alexandra Feodorovna of Russia's letter to her daughter Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna of Russia, dated December 30, 1907

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Empress Alexandra Feodorovna of Russia, formerly Princess Alix of Hesse-Darmstadt, photographed by Boasson and Eggler.


Above: Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna of Russia, photographed by Rotary Photographic Co.




Alexandra Feodorovna (born May 25/June 6, 1872, died July 17, 1918) was Empress of Russia from her marriage to Tsar Nicholas II on November 14/26, 1894 until his forced abdication on March 2/15, 1917. Born as Princess Alix of Hesse-Darmstadt or of Hesse and by Rhine, she was given the name and patronymic Alexandra Feodorovna upon her conversion to Russian Orthodoxy and her reception into the Church. She and her immediate family were all killed while in Bolshevik captivity in 1918, during the Russian Revolution. In 1981 and in 2000 the Russian Orthodox Church canonised her as Saint Alexandra the Passion Bearer and New Martyr.

A favourite granddaughter of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom, Alexandra was, like her grandmother, one of the most famous royal carriers of the genetic bleeding disease hemophilia. Her youngest child and only son, the Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich of Russia, was born with the disease, a fact which, for the rest of her life, plagued Alexandra with extreme guilt and anxiety that was so severe that it negatively affected her physical health and prematurely aged her. Her reputation for encouraging her husband's resistance to the surrender of autocratic authority and her deep devotion to the mystic Grigori Rasputin severely damaged her popularity and reputation and those of the Romanov monarchy in its final years.

The letter:

Dec. 30th 1907. Ц. С.
My darling little Marie,
I hope you will be able to read this letter all alone, tho' it is in English. Many thanks for yr. nice letter.

I am delighted that you are all so much better — God grant I shall soon see you all again. — I am going to have quite a party in my bedroom to luncheon; Papa, Olga & Anastasia; is it not grand?

My headache has quite passed, but the head feels still rather tired. —

Now I must read the Bible & prayers, as I do not go to Church — I hope you & Tatiana do so too. —

Very fondest kisses, my little girly dear, fr. yr. loving old
Mama. —

God bless you. —

German translation (my own):

30. Dezember 1907. Zarskoje Selo.
Meine liebe kleine Marie,
Ich hoffe, Du könnest diesen Brief selbstständig lesen, obwohl er auf Englisch geschrieben ist. Vielen Dank für deinen netten Brief.

Ich freue mich, dass es euch allen so viel besser geht — Gott gewähre, dass ich ihr alle bald wiedersehen werde. — Ich werde zum Mittagessen in meinem Schlafzimmer ziemlich gute Gesellschaft haben; Papa, Olga und Anastasia; ist es nicht großartig?

Meine Kopfschmerzen sind ganz verschwunden, aber der Kopf fühlt sich noch ziemlich müde an.

Jetzt muss ich die Bibel und die Gebete lesen, da ich nicht in die Kirche gehe — ich hoffe, du und Tatiana tun es auch. —

Ganz zarte Küsse, mein kleines liebes Mädchen, von deinem liebenden alten
Mama. —

Gott segne dich. —

Russian translation (by Olga Grigor'eva):

30 Декабря 1907. Ц. С.
Моя дорогая маленькая Мари,
Я надеюсь, что ты сумеешь прочесть это письмо самостоятельно, хотя оно написано по-английски. Благодарю за твое милое письмо.

Я рада, что вам всем намного лучше. Бог даст, я скоро всех вас снова увижу. Я собираюсь устроить обед в спальне с Папа, Ольгой и Анастасией; разве это не грандиозно? Головная боль у меня совсем прошла, но чувствуется еще усталость. Сейчас я должна почитать Библию и молитвы, так как не хожу в Церковь. Я надеюсь, что ты и Татьяна тоже так сделаете.

Очень нежные поцелуи моей маленькой дорогой девочке от любящей старой
Мама.

Храни тебя Бог.

Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna of Russia's letter to her tutor Peter Vasilievich Petrov, dated December 28, 1907

Source:

Olga Grigor'eva at lastromanovs on VK



Above: Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna of Russia. Photo courtesy of TatianaZ on Flickr.


Above: Peter Vasilievich Petrov with Tatiana's younger brother the Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich of Russia.


The letter:

П. В.
Отъ души благодарю Васъ за подарки и за хорошенькую карточку. Сердечно поздравляю Васъ съ Новымъ Годомъ. Я получила отъ Бабушки чудную книгу: "Записки институтки". И чудные вещи отъ Мама и Папа. Татьяна. Дек. 28го 1907.

With modernised spelling:

П. В.
От души благодарю Вас за подарки и за хорошенькую карточку. Сердечно поздравляю Вас с Новым Годом. Я получила от Бабушки чудную книгу: "Записки институтки". И чудные вещи от Мама и Папа. Татьяна. Дек. 28го 1907.

English translation (my own):

P. V.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the gifts and for the pretty card. I sincerely wish you a happy New Year. I received a wonderful book from Grandmama: "A Schoolgirl's Notes". And wonderful things from Mama and Papa. Tatiana. Dec. 28th 1907.

Lucy Thurston's letter to her daughter Mary about a mastectomy she underwent during her battle with breast cancer, dated October 29, 1855

Source:



Above: Lucy Goodale Thurston.

Lucy Goodale Thurston (born October 29, 1795, died October 13, 1876) was a Protestant missionary and author. She was the wife of Asa Thurston and was one of the first American Christian missionaries to Hawaii. She is noted for her letters documenting her life and missionary work in the islands.

In 1855, 36 years after arriving, Lucy Thurston developed cancer and had no option but to undergo a mastectomy to remove her left breast, an already distressing procedure further worsened by the fact that she was to endure the operation wide-awake, without any form of anaesthetic. A month later, she wrote a letter to her daughter and described the unimaginably harrowing experience. Thankfully, the procedure was a success: Lucy lived for another 21 years.

WARNING: GRAPHIC AND POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING.

The letter:

October 29, 1855
My Dear Daughter Mary:
I have hitherto forborne to write respecting the surgical operation I experienced in September, from an expectation that you would be with us so soon. That is now given up; so I proceed to give a circumstantial account of those days of peculiar discipline. At the end of the General Meeting in June your father returned to Kailua, leaving me at Honolulu, in Mr. Taylor's family, under Dr. Ford’s care. Dr. Hillebrand was called in counsel. During the latter part of August they decided on the use of the knife. Mr. Thurston was sent for to come down according to agreement should such be the result. I requested him to bring certain things which I wished, in case I no more returned to Kailua. Tremendous gales of wind were now experienced. One vessel was wrecked within sight of Kailua. Another, on her way there, nearly foundered, and returned only to be condemned. In vain we looked for another conveyance. Meantime, the tumor was rapidly altering. It had nearly approached the surface, exhibiting a dark spot. Should it become an open ulcer, the whole system would become vitiated with its malignity. Asa said he should take no responsibility of waiting the arrival of his father. Persis felt the same. Saturday P.M., the doctors met in consultation, and advised an immediate operation. The next Thursday (12th of September), ten o'clock A.M., was the hour fixed upon. In classifying, the Dr. placed this among "capital operations." Both doctors advised not to take chloroform because of my having had the paralysis. I was glad they allowed me the use of my senses. Persis offered me her parlor, and Asa his own new bridal room for the occasion. But I preferred the retirement and quietude of the grass-thatched cottage. Thomas, with all his effects moved out of it into a room a few steps off. The house was thoroughly cleaned and prettily fitted up. One lady said it seemed as though it had been got up by magic. Monday, just at night, Dr. Ford called to see that all was in readiness. There were two lounges trimmed, one with white, the other with rose-colored mosquito netting. There was a reclining Chinese chair, a table for the instruments, a wash-stand with wash bowls, sponges, and pails of water. There was a frame with two dozen towels, and a table of choice stimulants and restoratives. One more table with the Bible and hymn book.

That night I spent in the house alone for the first time. The family had all retired for the night. In the still hour of darkness, I long walked back and forth in the capacious door-yard. Depraved, diseased, helpless, I yielded myself up entirely to the will, the wisdom, and the strength of the Holy One. At peace with myself, with earth, and with heaven, I calmly laid my head upon my pillow and slept refreshingly. A bright day opened upon us. My feelings were natural, cheerful, elevated. I took the Lord at his own word: "As the day is, so shall thy strength be." There with an unwavering heart, I leaned for strength and support. Before dressing for the occasion, I took care to call on Ellen, who had then an infant a week old by her side. It was a cheerful call, made in a common manner, she not being acquainted with the movements of the day. I then prepared myself for the professional call. Dr. Judd was early on the ground. I went with him to Asa's room, where with Asa and Sarah we sat and conversed till other medical men rode up. Dr. Judd rose to go out. I did the same. Asa said: "You had better not go, you are not wanted yet." I replied: "I wish to be among the first on the ground, to prevent its coming butt end first.” On reaching my room. Dr. Ford was there. He introduced me to Dr. Hoffman of Honolulu, and to Dr. Brayton of an American Naval ship, then in port. The instruments were then laid out upon the table. Strings were prepared for tying arteries. Needles threaded for sewing up the wound. Adhesive plasters were cut into strips, bandages produced, and the Chinese chair placed by them in the front double door. Everything was now in readiness, save the arrival of one physician. All stood around the house or in the piazza. Dr. Ford, on whom devolved the responsibility, paced the door-yard. I stood in the house with others, making remarks on passing occurrences. At length I was invited to sit. I replied: "As I shall be called to lie a good while, I had rather now stand." Dr. Brayton, as he afterwards said, to his utter astonishment found that the lady to be operated on was standing in their midst.

Dr. Hillebrand arrived. It was a signal for action. Persis and I stepped behind a curtain. I threw off my cap and dressing gown, and appeared with a white flowing skirt, with the white bordered shawl purchased in 1818, thrown over my shoulders. I took my seat in the chair. Persis and Asa stood at my right side; Persis to hand me restoratives; Asa to use his strength, if self-control were wanting. Dr. Judd stood at my left elbow for the same reason; my shawl was thrown off, exhibiting my left arm, breast and side, perfectly bare. Dr. Ford showed me how I must hold back my left arm to the greatest possible extent, with my hand taking a firm hold of the arm of my chair: with my right hand, I took hold of the right arm, with my feet I pressed against the foot of the chair. Thus instructed, and everything in readiness. Dr. Ford looked me full in the face, and with great firmness asked: "Have you made up your mind to have it cut out?" "Yes, sir." "Are you ready now?" "Yes, sir; but let me know when you begin, that I may be able to bear it. Have you your knife in that hand now?" He opened his hand that I might see it, saying, "I am going to begin now." Then came a gash long and deep, first on one side of my breast, then on the other. Deep sickness seized me, and deprived me of my breakfast. This was followed by extreme faintness. My sufferings were no longer local. There was a general feeling of agony throughout the whole system. I felt, every inch of me, as though flesh was failing. During the whole operation, I was enabled to have entire self control over my person, and over my voice. Persis and Asa were devotedly employed in sustaining me with the use of cordials, ammonia, bathing my temples, etc. I myself fully intended to have seen the thing done. But on recollection, every glimpse I happened to have, was the doctor’s right hand completely covered with blood, up to the very wrist. He afterwards told me, that at one time the blood from an artery flew into is eyes, so that he could not see. It was nearly an hour and a half that I was beneath his hand, in cutting out the entire breast, in cutting out the glands beneath the arm, in tying the arteries, in absorbing the blood, in sewing up the wound, in putting on the adhesive plasters, and in applying the bandage.

The views and feelings of that hour are now vivid to my recollection. It was during the cutting process that I began to talk. The feeling that I had reached a different point from those by whom I was surrounded, inspired me with freedom. It was thus that I expressed myself. "It has been a great trial to my feelings that Mr. Thurston is not here. But it is not necessary. So many friends, and Jesus Christ besides. His left hand is underneath my head, His right hand sustains and embraces me. I am willing to suffer. I am willing to die. I am not afraid of death. I am not afraid of hell. I anticipate a blessed immortality. Tell Mr. Thurston my peace flows like a river.

"Upward I lift mine eyes.
From God is all my aid:
The God that built the skies,
And earth and nature made.

God is the tower
To which I fly;
His grace is nigh
In every hour."

God disciplines me, but He does it with a gentle hand. At one time I said, "I know you will bear with me." Asa replied, "I think it is you that have to bear from us."

The doctor, after removing the entire breast, said to me, "I want to cut yet more, round under your arm." I replied, "Do just what you want to do, only tell me when, so that I can bear it." One said the wound had the appearance of being more than a foot long. Eleven arteries were taken up. After a beginning had been made in sewing it up, Persis said: "Mother, the doctor makes as nice a seam as you ever made in your life." "Tell me, Persis, when he is going to put in the needle, so that I can bear it." "Now — now — now," etc. "Yes, tell me. That is a good girl." Ten stitches were taken, two punctures at every stitch, one on either side. When the whole work was done, Dr. Ford and Asa removed my chair to the back side of the room, and laid me on the lounge. Dr. Brayton came to my side, and taking me by the hand said: "There is not one in a thousand who would have borne it as you have done."

Up to this time, everything is fresh to my recollection. Of that afternoon and night, I only remember that the pain in the wound was intense and unremitting, and that I felt willing to be just in the circumstances in which I was placed. I am told that Dr. Ford visited me once in the afternoon, and once in the night, that Persis and Asa took care of me, that it seemed as if I suffered nearly as much as during the operation, and that my wound was constantly wet with cold water. I have since told Persis, that “I thought they kept me well drugged with paregoric.” He replied, "We did not give you a drop." "Why then do I not remember what took place?" "Because you had so little life about you." By morning light the pain had ceased. Surgeons would understand the expression, that the wound healed by a "union of the first intention."

The morning again brought to my mind a recollection of events. I was lying on my lounge, feeble and helpless. I opened my eyes and saw the light of day. Asa was crossing the room bearing a Bible before him. He sat down near my couch, read a portion, and then prayed.

For several days, I had long sinking turns of several hours. Thursday night, the third of suffering, Thomas rode nearly two miles to the village for the Dr., once in the fore part of the evening, again at eleven. At both times he came. At two o'clock he unexpectedly made his third call that night. It was at his second call that he said to Persis: "In the morning make your mother some chicken soup. She has starved long enough." (They had been afraid of fever.) Persis immediately aroused Thomas, had a chicken caught, a fire made, and a soup under way that same midnight hour. The next day, Friday, I was somewhat revived by the use of wine and soup. In the afternoon, your father arrived. It was the first time since the operation, that I felt as if I had life enough to endure the emotion of seeing him. He left Kailua the same day the operation was performed. A vessel was passing in sight of Kailua. He rowed out in a canoe and was received on board. Hitherto, Persis, Asa and Thomas, had been my only nurses both by day and by night. The doctor gave directions that no one enter the room, but those that took care of me.

For weeks my debility was so great, that I was fed with a teaspoon, like an infant. Many dangers were apprehended. During one day, I saw a duplicate of every person and every thing that my eye beheld. Thus it was, sixteen years before, when I had the paralysis. Three weeks after the operation, your father for the first time, very slowly raised me to the angle of 45 degrees. It seemed as if it would have taken away my sense. It was about this time that I perceptibly improved from day to day, so much so, that in four weeks from my confinement, I was lifted into a carriage. Then I rode with your father almost every day. As he was away from his field of labor, and without any family responsibilities, he was entirely devoted to me. It was of great importance to me, that he was at liberty and in readiness ever to read simple interesting matter to me, to enliven and to cheer, so that time never passed heavily. After remaining with me six weeks, he returned to Kailua, leaving me with the physician and with our children.

In a few weeks, Mother, Mr. Taylor, Persis, Thomas, Lucy, Mary, and George bade farewell to Asa and Sarah, and to little Robert, their black-eyed baby boy. Together we passed over the rough channels up to the old homestead. Then, your father instead of eating his solitary meals, had his family board enlarged for the accommodation of three generations.

And here is again your mother, engaged in life's duties, and life's warfare. Fare thee well. Be one with us in knowledge, sympathy, and love, though we see thee not, and when sickness prostrates, we feel not thy hand upon our brow.
Your loving Mother.

Caroline Southwood Smith's letter to her daughter Gertrude Hill about her three year old youngest daughter Octavia Hill, year 1843

Source:

Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters (1913), compiled and edited by Charles Edmund Maurice


The letter:

Ockey speaks to everything that is said to her and corrects or makes fun of any mistake. She is always ready for a joke. To-day her Papa said, "Take care or you will have a downfall." "That I should not mind," said Ockey, "if the down was there when I fell," and then she laughed.

Caroline Southwood Smith's letter to her daughter Gertrude Hill about her youngest daughter Octavia Hill, dated September 1, 1843

Source:

Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters (1913), compiled and edited by Charles Edmund Maurice


The letter:

81, St. Mark's Place, Leeds.
September 1st, 1843.
Ockey can now read quite well, and spends a great deal of time every day in reading to herself. Do you know she can scarcely walk, she goes leaping as if she were a little kangaroo — that is because she is such a merry little girl.

Louisa Hill's letter to her stepmother Caroline Southwood Smith, dated July 19, 1840

Source:

Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters (1913), compiled and edited by Charles Edmund Maurice


The letter:

Norwich, July 19th, 1840.
MY DARLING MAMA, I am so delighted to know that you will soon be well and strong again, and able to lend the strength and assistance which you always have in trying circumstances.

How happy you will be, when the little ones are older, when you get beyond the merely physical part of their education. I am sure your children will all be beautiful, good and wise, for they come into the world finely organized and are watched and trained under your gentle and elevating influence.

I heartily rejoice that the baby is a girl; you will give her strength to endure and struggle with the evils which are the birthright of her sex. She will add to the number of well educated women, who, I am afraid form but a very small portion of humanity. But I forget the difference in age. This little baby belongs almost to the third generation. She will be in her bloom, when we shall be old women, if not dead. Great changes may take place before she attains womanhood.
Very affectionately yours,
LOUISA HILL.

Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland's letter to her uncle Leopold I, King of the Belgians, dated November 19, 1837

Source:

The letters of Queen Victoria: a selection from Her Majesty's correspondence between the years 1831 and 1861: published by authority of His Majesty the King, edited by Arthur Christopher Benson and Viscount Reginald Baliol Brett Esher, 1907



Above: Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland, drawn by Edmund Thomas Parris.


Above: Leopold I, King of the Belgians, painted by Auguste-Alexis Canzi after Franz Xaver Winterhalter.

The letter:

BUCKINGHAM PALACE, 19th November 1837.
... Now, dearest Uncle, before I say anything more, I will answer the various questions in your letter, which I have communicated to Lord Melbourne and Lord Palmerston. (1) With respect to Ferdinand's question to you, it is impossible for us to say beforehand what we shall do in such an emergency; it depends so entirely on the peculiar circumstances of the moment that we cannot say what we should do. You know, dear Uncle, that the fleet has orders to protect the King and Queen in case they should be in any personal danger. As to Lord Howard, though what you say about him is true enough, it would not do to recall him at present; it would give Bois le Comte all the advantage he wishes for, and which would be injurious to our interests and influence.

(2) With regard to Spain, a very decided mention is made of the Queen herself in the speech which is to be delivered by me to-morrow in the House of Lords.

We have great reason to know that, of late, the Queen has positively declared her intention to remain at Madrid to the very last.

Villiers' conduct has been, I fear, much misrepresented, for his own opinions are not at all those of the ultra-Liberal kind; and his only aim has been, to be on good terms with the Spanish Ministry for the time being.

(3) Concerning France, I need not repeat to you, dear Uncle, how very anxious we all are to be upon the best and most friendly terms with her, and to co-operate with her.

Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland's letter to her uncle Leopold I, King of the Belgians, dated October 25, 1837

Source:

The letters of Queen Victoria: a selection from Her Majesty's correspondence between the years 1831 and 1861: published by authority of His Majesty the King, edited by Arthur Christopher Benson and Viscount Reginald Baliol Brett Esher, 1907



Above: Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland, painted by Sir William Ross.


Above: Leopold I, King of the Belgians, painted by Franz Xaver Winterhalter.

The letter:

PAVILION, BRIGHTON, 25th October 1837.
... Now, dearest Uncle, I must speak to you un peu de Politique. I made Lord Melbourne read the political part of your letter. He wished me to communicate to you part of the contents of a letter of Lord Granville's which we received yesterday. Lord Granville complains a good deal of Molé, and says, that though he is apparently very cordial and friendly towards us, and talks of his desire that we should be on a better footing as to our foreign Ministers than we have hitherto been, that whenever Lord Granville urges him to do anything decisive (to use Lord G's own words) "he shrinks from the discussion," says he must have time to reflect before he can give any answer, and evades giving any reply, whenever anything of importance is required. This, you see, dear Uncle, is not satisfactory. I merely tell you this, as I think you would like to know what Molé tells our Ambassador; this differs from what he told you. What you say about Louis Philippe I am sure is very true; his situation is a very peculiar and a very difficult one. ...

Note: "un peu de Politique" = "a bit about Politics."

Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland's letter to her uncle Leopold I, King of the Belgians, dated October 3, 1837

Source:

The letters of Queen Victoria: a selection from Her Majesty's correspondence between the years 1831 and 1861: published by authority of His Majesty the King, edited by Arthur Christopher Benson and Viscount Reginald Baliol Brett Esher, 1907



Above: Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland, painted by Sir William Ross.


Above: Leopold, King of the Belgians, lithograph by Luigi Calamatta.

The letter:

WINDSOR CASTLE, 3rd October 1837.
MY BELOVED UNCLE, — ... I am quite sad to leave this fine place, where, if it had not been for the meeting of Parliament so early this year, I would have remained till November. I have passed such a pleasant time here, the pleasantest summer I have ever passed in my life; I have had the great happiness of having you and my beloved Aunt here, I have had pleasant people staying with me, and I have had delicious rides which have done me more good than anything. It will be such a break-up of our little circle! Besides my own people, Lord Melbourne and Lord Palmerston are the only people who have been staying here, and this little party was very social and agreeable. The Princess Augusta of Saxony has been here for two nights; she is neither young nor handsome, but a very kind good person.

The news from Portugal are bad which I got this morning. The Civil War is ended, and the Chartists have been completely defeated; this is sad enough, but I was fearful of it: a counter-revolution never does well.

En revanche, the news from Spain are by far better. ...

Believe me always, in haste, your devoted and affectionate Niece,
VICTORIA R.

Note: en revanche = in return.

Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland's letter to her uncle Leopold I, King of the Belgians, dated September 19, 1837

Source:

The letters of Queen Victoria: a selection from Her Majesty's correspondence between the years 1831 and 1861: published by authority of His Majesty the King, edited by Arthur Christopher Benson and Viscount Reginald Baliol Brett Esher, 1907



Above: Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Ireland, drawn by Sir Edwin Landseer.


Above: Leopold, King of the Belgians, painted by Sir George Hayter.

The letter:

WINDSOR CASTLE, 19th September 1837.
(20 m[inutes] p[ast] 11.)
MY DEAREST, MOST BELOVED UNCLE, — One line to express to you, imperfectly, my thanks for all your very great kindness to me, and my great, great grief at your departure! God knows how sad, how forlorn, I feel! How I shall miss you, my dearest, dear Uncle! every, every where! How I shall miss your conversation! How I shall miss your protection out riding! Oh! I feel very, very sad, and cannot speak of you both without crying!

Farewell, my beloved Uncle and father! may Heaven bless and protect you; and do not forget your most affectionate, devoted, and attached Niece and Child,
VICTORIA R.

Henriette Wulff the Younger's letter to Hans Christian Andersen, dated March 30, 1837

Source:


The letter:

Nr. 66. Fra Henriette Wulff.
[30. 3. 1837].
Stakkels Andersen med den stykke spandske Flue! har De ikke en saa levende Maade at udtrykke Dem paa at det ordentlig gyser i mig ved at tænke paa de spandske Lidelser De plages af. Endskjøndt det gjør mig og os Alle ondt ikke at skulde see Dem i Dag, glæder det mig dog at De kan adsprede Dem lidt fra Deres Piner, og vi have den Fornøjelse til Gode at see Dem i Morgen. Jeg forbeholder mig da muntlig at sige Dem hvor ondt det har gjordt mig ikke at have seet Dem i alle disse Dage.

Gangerpilten venter paa disse Linier, derfor Adio! Jeg har meget at tale med Dem i Morgen; Fader er gandske gnaven over ikke at faae Dem at see i Dag; han lider bestandig af den fæle Snue og trænger til lidt Adspredelse som for Ex: at De skal lyve lidt for ham, det morer ham kosteligt. Au revoir. God Bedring og god Taalmod med Fluerne. Come sempre la sorella.
Torsdag kl. 12.
ST

Hr H: C: Andersen. Digter, etc etc. Nyhavn

With modernised spelling:

Nr. 66. Fra Henriette Wulff.
[30. 3. 1837].
Stakkels Andersen med den stykke spanske flue! har De ikke en så levende måde at udtrykke Dem på at det ordentlig gyser i mig ved at tænke på de spanske lidelser De plages af. Endskønt det gør mig og os alle ondt ikke at skulle se Dem i dag, glæder det mig dog at De kan adsprede Dem lidt fra Deres piner, og vi have den fornøjelse til gode at see Dem i morgen. Jeg forbeholder mig da muntlig at sige Dem hvor ondt det har gjort mig ikke at have set Dem i alle disse dage.

Gangerpilten venter på disse linjer, derfor addio! Jeg har meget at tale med Dem i morgen; fader er ganske gnaven over ikke at få Dem at se i dag; han lider bestandig af den fælle snue og trænger til lidt adspredelse som for eks. at De skal lyve lidt for ham, det morer ham kosteligt. Au revoir. God bedring og god tålmod med fluerne. Come sempre la sorella.
Torsdag kl. 12.
ST

Hr. H. C. Andersen. Digter, etc., etc. Nyhavn.

English translation (my own):

No. 66. From Henriette Wulff.
March 30, 1837.
Poor Andersen with the piece of Spanish fly! you do not have such a vivid way of expressing yourself that it really makes me shudder to think of the Spanish sufferings you are plagued by. Although it hurts me and all of us not to see you today, I am glad that you can distract yourself a little from your torments, and we shall have the pleasure of seeing you tomorrow. I then reserve the right to tell you orally how much it has hurt me not to have seen you all these days.

The messenger boy is waiting for these lines, therefore addio! I have a lot to talk to you about tomorrow; Father is quite grumpy about not getting to see you today; he constantly suffers from the common cold and needs a little distraction such as that you have to lie a little to him, it amuses him greatly. Au revoir. A good recovery and good patience with the flies. Come sempre la sorella.
Thursday, 12 o'clock.
ST

Mr. H. C. Andersen. Poet, etc., etc. Nyhavn.

Notes: addio = goodbye.

au revoir = goodbye.

come sempre la sorella = as always [your] sister.

Anne Leth Jürgensen's letter to Hans Christian Andersen, dated June 18, 1825

Source:


The letter:

Kiere Andersen.
Bort med det mørke Lune, vær flittig vær Gud og Dyden troe, bed den Evige at tænde Viisdommens Lampe for Dem følg dens klare Skin; Afskye alt Hykleri gaae stadig Viisdommens Vei, og De skal, de maa blive lykkelig. Gud have ved gode Mennesker giort meget for Dem, han vil med Fadergodhed vedblive, naar De med Ydmyghed og uhyklet Dyd, og et reent Hierte modtager hans Naade, tænk Dem Frelserens Ord: Uden I blive som Børn, det vil sige Uskyldige og Oprigtige kan i ikke komme i Guds Rige. - Følg dette velmeente Raad gode Andersen og De maa blive lykkelig, den sande Lykke findes kun i vor egen Barm. Tak for Deres 2 Breve jeg haver io faaet begge med Posten. Undskyld min slette Skrift, thi jeg er næsten blind, og haver mange Sorger og Sygdom til, og dog takker jeg Gud og er tilfreds, endskiønt jeg seer Afsked Timen med Længsel i møde, thi der hisset skal jeg io gienfinde min Mand, den skiønneste Perle i min Livskrands, far vel gode Andersen vær munter og glad og alt vil gaae godt.
Deres oprigtige Veninde A. L. Jürgensen.
Kiøb[enhavn] d. 18 Juni 1825

With modernised spelling:

Kære Andersen.
Bort med det mørke lune, vær flittig, vær Gud og dygden tro, bed den Evige at tænde visdommens lampe for Dem følg dens klare skin; afsky alt hykleri, gå stadig visdommens vej, og De skal, De må blive lykkelig. Gud have ved gode mennesker gjort meget for Dem, han vil med fadergodhed vedblive, når De med ydmyghed og uhyklet dygd, og et rent hjerte modtager hans nåde, tænk Dem Frelserens ord: uden I blive som børn, det vil sige uskyldige og oprigtige, kan I ikke komme i Guds Rige. - Følg dette velmente råd, gode Andersen, og De må blive lykkelig, den sande lykke findes kun i vor egen barm. Tak for Deres 2 breve jeg haver jo fået begge med posten. Undskyld min slette skrift, thi jeg er næsten blind, og haver mange sorger og sygdom til, og dog takker jeg Gud og er tilfreds, endskønt jeg ser afsked timen med længsel i møde, thi der hisset skal jeg jo genfinde min mand, den skønneste perle i min livskrans. Farvel gode Andersen, vær munter og glad og alt vil gå godt.
Deres oprigtige veninde A. L. Jürgensen.
København d. 18 juni 1825.

English translation (my own):

Away with the dark whim, be diligent, be faithful to God and virtue, ask the Eternal One to light the lamp of wisdom for you, follow its clear light; abhor all hypocrisy, walk still in the way of wisdom, and you shall be happy. God has done a lot for you through good people, He will abide with paternal goodness, when you receive His grace with humility and unhypocritical virtue, and a pure heart, think on the words of the Saviour: "Unless you become like children, that is, innocent and sincere, you cannot enter the Kingdom of God." — Follow this well-meaning advice, good Andersen, and you will, you shall be happy, the true happiness is found only in our own bosom. Thank you for your 2 letters I have both received in the mail. Excuse my bad writing, for I am almost blind, and have many sorrows and sickness, and yet I thank God and am content, though I see the parting hour with longing, for there, excited I shall find my husband, the most beautiful pearl in the wreath of my life. Goodbye, Andersen, be cheerful and happy and everything will go well.
Your sincere friend
A. L. Jürgensen
Copenhagen, June 18, 1825.

Lady Susan Vernon's letter to Alicia Johnson, from "Lady Susan" by Jane Austen, year 1794 (FICTIONAL)

Source:

Lady Susan (1794), by Jane Austen



Above: Face character for Lady Susan ~ Unidentified woman painted by Józef Pitschmann.

The letter:

LANGFORD.
You were mistaken, my dear Alicia, in supposing me fixed at this place for the rest of the winter: it grieves me to say how greatly you were mistaken, for I have seldom spent three months more agreeably than those which have just flown away. At present, nothing goes smoothly; the females of the family are united against me. You foretold how it would be when I first came to Langford, and Mainwaring is so uncommonly pleasing that I was not without apprehensions for myself. I remember saying to myself, as I drove to the house, "I like this man, pray Heaven no harm come of it!" But I was determined to be discreet, to bear in mind my being only four months a widow, and to be as quiet as possible: and I have been so, my dear creature; I have admitted no one's attentions but Mainwaring's. I have avoided all general flirtation whatever; I have distinguished no creature besides, of all the numbers resorting hither, except Sir James Martin, on whom I bestowed a little notice, in order to detach him from Miss Mainwaring; but, if the world could know my motive there they would honour me. I have been called an unkind mother, but it was the sacred impulse of maternal affection, it was the advantage of my daughter that led me on; and if that daughter were not the greatest simpleton on earth, I might have been rewarded for my exertions as I ought.

Sir James did make proposals to me for Frederica; but Frederica, who was born to be the torment of my life, chose to set herself so violently against the match that I thought it better to lay aside the scheme for the present. I have more than once repented that I did not marry him myself; and were he but one degree less contemptibly weak I certainly should: but I must own myself rather romantic in that respect, and that riches only will not satisfy me. The event of all this is very provoking: Sir James is gone, Maria highly incensed, and Mrs. Mainwaring insupportably jealous; so jealous, in short, and so enraged against me, that, in the fury of her temper, I should not be surprised at her appealing to her guardian, if she had the liberty of addressing him: but there your husband stands my friend; and the kindest, most amiable action of his life was his throwing her off for ever on her marriage. Keep up his resentment, therefore, I charge you. We are now in a sad state; no house was ever more altered; the whole party are at war, and Mainwaring scarcely dares speak to me. It is time for me to be gone; I have therefore determined on leaving them, and shall spend, I hope, a comfortable day with you in town within this week. If I am as little in favour with Mr. Johnson as ever, you must come to me at 10 Wigmore street; but I hope this may not be the case, for as Mr. Johnson, with all his faults, is a man to whom that great word "respectable" is always given, and I am known to be so intimate with his wife, his slighting me has an awkward look.

I take London in my way to that insupportable spot, a country village; for I am really going to Churchhill. Forgive me, my dear friend, it is my last resource. Were there another place in England open to me I would prefer it. Charles Vernon is my aversion; and I am afraid of his wife. At Churchhill, however, I must remain till I have something better in view. My young lady accompanies me to town, where I shall deposit her under the care of Miss Summers, in Wigmore street, till she becomes a little more reasonable. She will make good connections there, as the girls are all of the best families. The price is immense, and much beyond what I can ever attempt to pay.

Adieu, I will send you a line as soon as I arrive in town.
Yours ever,
S. VERNON.

Lady Susan Vernon's letter to her brother-in-law Charles Vernon, from "Lady Susan" by Jane Austen, year 1794 (FICTIONAL)

Source:

Lady Susan (1794), by Jane Austen



Above: Face character for Lady Susan ~ Unidentified woman painted by Józef Pitschmann.

The letter:

LANGFORD, DEC.
MY DEAR BROTHER, — I can no longer refuse myself the pleasure of profiting by your kind invitation when we last parted of spending some weeks with you at Churchhill, and, therefore, if quite convenient to you and Mrs. Vernon to receive me at present, I shall hope within a few days to be introduced to a sister whom I have so long desired to be acquainted with. My kind friends here are most affectionately urgent with me to prolong my stay, but their hospitable and cheerful dispositions lead them too much into society for my present situation and state of mind; and I impatiently look forward to the hour when I shall be admitted into Your delightful retirement.

I long to be made known to your dear little children, in whose hearts I shall be very eager to secure an interest. I shall soon have need for all my fortitude, as I am on the point of separation from my own daughter. The long illness of her dear father prevented me paying her that attention which duty and affection equally dictated, and I have too much reason to fear that the governess to whose care I consigned her was unequal to the charge. I have therefore resolved on placing her at one of the best private schools in town, where I shall have an opportunity of leaving her myself in my way to you. I am determined, you see, not to be denied admittance at Churchhill. It would indeed give me most painful sensations to know that it were not in your power to receive me.
Your most obliged and affectionate sister,
S. VERNON.

Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa's letter to her daughter Marie Antoinette, dated May 8, 1771

Source:

Maria-Theresia und Marie-Antoinette, Ihr Briefwechsel während der Jahre 1770-1780, published by Alfred Ritter von Arneth, 1865



Above: Maria Theresa, Holy Roman Empress, artist unknown.


Above: Marie Antoinette, painted by Joseph Ducreux.

My 900th post on this blog!

The letter:

Schönbrunn, le 8 mai 1771.
J'ai reçu vos deux lettres, l'une par le courrier du 16 et l'autre par l'abbé de Vanwolden. J'écris actuellement devant la masse, qui me répresente ma très-chère fille, mais je ne lui trouve pas cet air de jeunesse, qu'elle avait il y a onze mois, et malheureusement le changement d'état n'en est pas la cause; j'attends cette nouvelle avec grand empressement, et me flatte, que le mariage, qui doit se faire en peu de jours, accélérera mes voeux; mais je ne saurais assez vous répéter: point d'humeur là-dessus; la douceur, la patience sont les uniques moyens, dont vous devez vous servir. Il n'y a rien de perdu, vous êtes tous deux si jeunes; au contraire pour vos santés ce n'est que mieux, vous vous fortifiez encore tous deux, mais il est naturel à nous autres vieux parents de souhaiter l'accomplissement, ne pouvant plus nous flatter de voir de petits et arrière-petits-fils.

Vous me ferez grand plaisir, ma chère fille, de me marquer, comme vous trouvez votre belle-soeur; selon le compte que m'en a fait Rosenberg, vous n'aurez pas sujet d'en être jalouse, mais bien d'en avoir pitié et de vous en occuper: cela vous fera honneur et sera à sa place, non pour la gouverner, cela conviendrait aussi peu que la jalousie, mais pour la tirer d'embarras, car on dit qu'elle n'est pas bien de figure, très-timide, point de monde, mais au reste très-bien élevée, avec le temps cela pourra faire une convenable liaison et amitié. Gardez-vous des rapports et contes pour et contre elle: le monde est méchant, on tâchera de gagner en flattant votre amour propre et en le piquant. Conservez soigneusement et tâchez de gagner tous les jours de plus la confiance, que vous me dites, que le Dauphin vous marque, et par votre respect et attachement tâchez de rencontrer en tout l'approbation du roi. Je voudrais bien que vous le vissiez plus souvent chez vous; c'est un point essentiel. Il a vu tous les jours votre belle mère chez elle, et à mon grand étonnement je dois apprendre qu'il ne vient jamais chez vous que les jours de cérémonie: il est de coutume, cela décide pour ou contre vous dans le public; tâchez donc de gagner à l'avenir ce point; j'en touche quelque chose à Mercy: ce qui est de la plus grande conséquence.

Ce que vous me dites des deux dames, qu'on a données à la comtesse de Provence, doit vous convaincre, combien vous devez user de précaution; quelle différence de Mme de Noailles à ces deux! Je veux vous passer qu'elle vous excède à force de vous vouloir du bien, mais c'est toujours une femme qui passe pour être honnête et attachée à vous; c'est un grand point, et étant des premières maisons, où trouverez-vous des parfaites sans intrigues ou sans être ennuyantes? Je suis bien aise, après ce que vous m'en dites de St. Mégrin, d'en être quitte; mais il serait temps de nous envoyer une fois un ambassadeur, de même de nommer un ministre, car il est bien difficile de s'expliquer sans en avoir, et si ce n'était pas pour vous, ma chère fille, Mercy aurait pu être mieux employé partout ailleurs que de rester ainsi en inaction; mais vous y perdriez trop et j'ose dire tout: mais tâchez qu'on nous en envoie bientôt, autrement je ne réponds de rien.

Ma chère fille! on dit dans le monde, et on est même étonné que vous voyez si rarement cet ambassadeur, que vous ne lui parlez qu'en passant, et que même vous avez l'air plus embarassé que confiant avec lui. On cite même les exemples de la reine, votre grand'mère, et de votre belle-mère, qui voyaient régulièrement chez elles deux fois la semaine les ministres de leurs familles, qui conversaient avec eux et les distinguaient partout. Si on vous parle autrement et vous conseille de n'en rien faire, je crains que ce n'est pas pour votre bien. Outre cela Mercy est estimé par tout le monde, raisonnable, et ne saurait que vous faire honneur et du bien, en l'écoutant plus souvent. Je vous avoue, que ce que vous m'avez marqué de Paar et de Starhemberg, que ces Messieurs n'avaient pas de bonne réputation, m'a fait de la peine. J'ai vu par là tout ce qu'on ose vous dire, et si vous aviez marqué plus de prédilection pour votre nation, et que vous auriez au moins marqué, que vous ne voulez pas qu'on en parle en mal devant vous, on s'en serait bien gardé. C'est une conviction de plus, qu'on avait raison d'être étonné du peu d'empressement et de protection que vous avez pour les Allemands. Croyez-moi: le Français vous estimera plus et fera plus de compte sur vous, s'il vous trouve la solidité et franchise allemande. Ne soyez pas honteuse d'être Allemande jusqu'aux gaucheries: il faut les excuser par bonté et ne souffrir qu'on ose s'en moquer; peu-à-peu vous vous accoutumerez à en faire de même. Quand on est jeune et voit journellement de ces sortes de choses, il est trop difficile de n'y pas tomber; pour cela il est nécessaire d'avoir une dame ou un ministre, qui puisse vous en avertir à temps. Faites un accueil distingué aux premiers, et des bontés à tous les Allemands, surtout ceux de mes sujets et des premières maisons: aux moindres, c'est-à-dire, qui n'ont point d'entrée à la cour chez nous, de bonté, d'affection et de protection, vous n'en serez jamais blâmée, mais bien plus estimée, hors de ceux qui n'ont jamais eu le bonheur de notre état. Vous l'avez si parfaitement acquis; ne le perdez pas, en négligeant ce qui vous l'a procuré: ce n'est ni votre beauté, qui effectivement ne l'est pas telle, ni vos talents ni savoir (vous savez bien que tout cela n'existe pas), c'est votre bonté de coeur, cette franchise, ces attentions, appliquées avec tant de jugement. On dit vous négligez à parler et distinguer les grands, qu'à la table, au jeu vous ne vous entretenez qu'avec vos jeunes dames, en leur parlant à l'oreille, en riant avec elles. Je ne suis pas si injuste de vouloir vous interdire la conversation très-naturelle des jeunes gens, que vous connaissez, à ceux que vous ne voyez qu'en grand public, mais c'est un point essentiel la distinction des gens, que vous ne devez pas négliger, l'ayant si bien acquis au commencement. Là-dessus aucune négligence et n'imitez personne: suivez ce que vous avez vu et appris ici.

On parle encore des jeux, que vous avez tenus le dernier hiver. Ne vous laissez pas aller au goût de mettre en ridicule les autres; vous y avez incliné un peu, si on s'aperçoit de ce faible, on ne vous servira que trop et vous perdrez cette estime et confiance du public, si nécessaire, si agréable et que vous possédez encore si parfaitement. Ma tendresse ne finirait jamais et pardonnez-moi ces répétitions, mais je les regarde comme la base de votre bonheur, jugez combien il m'est à coeur. Ne croyez pas que Mercy m'en a écrit, mais je dois vous répéter qu'il est étonnant ce qu'on sait ici; je n'en ai aucune des correspondances, mais il y en a une quantité ici et qui marquent des particularités étonnantes. Tout le monde sachant ma tendresse pour vous, me les porte pour ma consolation, mais voyant depuis quelque temps de diminution, qu'on attribue encore aux conseils qu'on vous donne, j'ai cru ne pouvoir faire de trop sur ce point, et même en charger Mercy, de m'informer et de vous assister plus que jamais de ses conseils.

Les confusions, qui sont actuellement chez vous, ne font bien de la peine pour le roi et pour vous. Mercy m'assure que vous vous conduisez à vous attirer l'estime de tout le monde, et augmenter même par une conduite mésurée, bonne et chrétienne l'estime qu'on a de vous. Suivez donc les conseils de Mercy, qui n'est occupé que de vous, et ne vous mêlez d'aucun parti; si vous pouvez même ignorer tout, ce ne serait que mieux. C'est dans ce moment, que je préfère les promenades à cheval, en calèche, les bals, spectacles et tout ce qui est plaisir, fussent même des enfantillages; pour couper court aux occasions, qu'on n'en parle. Vous serez étonnée que nous sommes seuls dehors sans l'empereur. Vous connaissez son affection pour la ville, j'ai cru devoir lui proposer d'y rester, ce qu'il a accepté avec plaisir, venant tous les jours dîner avec nous ici.

English translation (my own):

Schönbrunn, May 8, 1771.
I have received your two letters, one by the mail of the 16th and the other by Father Vanwolden. I am currently writing to the masses who represent my dear daughter to me, but I do not find in her that youthful air which she had eleven months ago, and unfortunately the change of state is not the cause; I await this news with great eagerness, and flatter myself that the marriage, which must take place in a few days, will accelerate my wishes; but I cannot repeat enough: no temper on this; gentleness, patience are the only means which you must use. There is nothing lost, you are both so young; on the contrary, for your health, it is all the better, you are still growing stronger, but it is natural for us old parents to wish fulfillment, no longer being able to flatter us to see grandsons and great-grandsons.

You will give me great pleasure, my dear daughter, to mark me, as you find your sister-in-law; according to the account that Rosenberg has given me, you will not have reason to be jealous of her, but to have pity on her and to take care of her: she will do you honour and will be in her place, not to govern her, that would suit as little as jealousy, but to help her out, for it is said that she is not well in face, very shy, not crowded, but, moreover, very well brought up; with time this can make a suitable bond and friendship. Beware of reports and tales for and against her: the world is wicked, one will try to win by flattering your self-esteem and by pricking it. Conserve carefully and try to earn more every day the trust which you tell me that the Dauphin marks you, and with your respect and dedication, try to meet in all the approval of the King. I would like you to see him more often at home; this is an essential point. He has seen your mother-in-law at her house every day, and to my great astonishment I must learn that he never comes to your house except on ceremonial days: it is customary, it decides for or against you in the public; try therefore to gain this point in the future; I touched something on Mercy, which is of the greatest consequence.

What you tell me about the two ladies who have been given to the Countess of Provence must convince you of how careful you must be; what a difference Madame de Noailles has to these two! I want to spare you that she is exceeding you by dint of wanting you well, but she is always a woman who passes for being honest and attached to you; that is a big point, and being early houses, where will you find perfect ones without intrigue or being boring? I am very glad, after what you tell me about St. Mégrin, to be done with it; but it would be time to send us an ambassador once, as well as to appoint a minister, for it is very difficult to explain without having one; and if it were not for you, my dear daughter, Mercy could have been better employed everywhere else than to remain thus in inaction; but you would lose too much and, I dare say, everything; but try to be sent to us soon, otherwise I will not answer for anything.

My dear daughter! people say in the world, and people are even astonished that you see this ambassador so rarely, that you only speak to him in passing, and that you even seem more embarrassed than confident with him. They even cite the examples of the Queen, your grandmother, and your mother-in-law, who regularly saw their family ministers twice a week, who conversed with them and distinguished them everywhere. If someone talks to you otherwise and advises you not to do it, I'm afraid it is not for your good. Besides that, Mercy is esteemed by everyone, reasonable, and can only do you honour and good by listening to her more often. I confess to you that what you impressed on me about von Paar and von Starhemberg, that these gentlemen did not have a good reputation, hurt me. I have seen by that all that one dares to say to you, and if you had marked more predilection for your nation, and *that* you would have at least marked, that you do not wish that one speak badly about it in front of you, one would have been careful not to. It is one more conviction that we were right to be surprised at the lack of eagerness and protection you have for the Germans. Believe me: the French will esteem you more and will count on you more if they find in you German solidity and frankness. Do not be ashamed of being German to the point of awkwardness: you must excuse them out of kindness and not allow anyone to dare to laugh at them; little by little you will get used to doing the same. When you are young and see these kinds of things every day, it is too difficult not to fall for them; for this it is necessary to have a lady or a minister who can warn you in time. Give a distinguished welcome to the first ones, and kindness to all the Germans, especially those of my subjects and the first houses: at the least, that is to say, who have no entry into the court with us, of kindness, affection and protection, you will never be blamed, but much more esteemed, out of those who have never had the happiness of our state. You have acquired it so perfectly; do not lose it by neglecting what gave it to you: it is neither your beauty, which indeed is not such, nor your talents nor knowledge (you know very well that all this does not exist), it is your kindness of heart, this frankness, these attentions, applied with so much judgment. It is said that you neglect to speak and distinguish the greats, that at table, at the game, you only talk to your young ladies, whispering in their ears, laughing with them. I am not so unjust in wanting to forbid you the very natural conversation of young people whom you know, to those whom you only see in general public, but it is an essential point the distinction of people that you must not be neglected, having acquired it so well in the beginning. Thereupon, no neglect; and do not imitate anyone: follow what you have seen and learned here.

One still speaks about the games you held last winter. Do not indulge yourself in making fun of others; you have inclined to it a little, if one notices this weakness, one will serve you only too much and you will lose this esteem and confidence of the public, so necessary, so pleasant and which you still possess so perfectly. My tenderness would never end, and forgive me these repetitions, but I regard them as the basis of your happiness, judge how much it is to my heart. Do not think that Mercy wrote to me, but I must repeat to you that it is astonishing what one knows here; I do not have any of the correspondences, but there is a quantity here and which mark surprising peculiarities. Everyone, knowing my affection for you, brings them to me for my consolation, but seeing for some time a decrease, which is still attributed to the advice given to you, I thought I could not do too much on this point, and even instruct Mercy to inform me and assist you more than ever with his advice.

The confusions which are with you at the present time do not cause much pain for the King and for you. Mercy assures me that you are conducting yourself to gain the esteem of everyone, and to increase even by measured, good and Christian conduct the esteem that one has of you. So follow the advice of Mercy, who is concerned only with you, and do not interfere with any party; if you can even ignore everything, that would be all the better. It is at this moment that I prefer horseback riding, carriage rides, balls, spectacles and all that is fun, even childishness; to cut short opportunities, let it be spoken of. You will be surprised that we are alone outside without the Emperor. You know his affection for the city, I thought I should suggest that he stay there, which he accepted with pleasure, coming to dine with us here every day.

Maria Edgeworth's letter to her aunt Margaret Ruxton on the death of her stepmother Honora Edgeworth almost ten years earlier, dated February 11, 1790

Source:

Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1894), compiled and edited by Augustus John Cuthbert Hare


The letter:

MARIA EDGEWORTH to MRS. RUXTON,
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, Feb. 11, 1790.
Your friendship, my dear Aunt Ruxton, has, I am sure, considerably alleviated the anguish of mind my father has had to feel, and your letter and well-deserved praise of my dear mother's fortitude and exertion were a real pleasure to her. She has indeed had a great deal to bear, and I think her health has suffered, but I hope not materially. In my father's absence, she ordered everything, did everything, felt everything herself. Unless, my dear aunt, you had been present during the last week of dear Honora's sufferings, I think you could not form an idea of anything so terrible or so touching. Such extreme fortitude, such affection, such attention to the smallest feelings of others, as she showed on her deathbed!

My father has carefully kept his mind occupied ever since his return, but we cannot help seeing his feelings at intervals. He has not slept for two or three nights, and is, I think, far from well to-day.

He said the other day, speaking of Honora, "My dear daughters, I promise you one thing, I never will reproach anybody you with Honora. I will never reproach you with any of her virtues." There could not be a kinder or more generous promise, but I could not help fearing that my father should refrain from speaking of her too much, and that it would hurt his mind. He used to say it was a great relief to him to talk of my mother Honora.