Letters to Sophia by ACC Art Books

‘Verses for Sophia Thrale’s Album’ by her Mother, Hester Lynch Piozzi

Alas dear Sophia! what is it you ask?

To write for an Album is no easy Task.1 Where the field is so wide and the Paper so white Even Veteran Bards might shrink back from the Sight. It requires a good Pen, to mere Poetry stanch, Don’t your Lovers all start when they hear of Carte Blanche? I wonder what Fancies would pass thro’ your Mind Were you call’d on to paint, & no subject assign’d; For ’tis not a Dissimilar Art, that you trade in,2 With Colour and Outline, and Grouping & Shading; I appeal to the next Magazine or Reviews If any such Business will suit with my Muse: Besides that her Pegasus — all Men must own, With Work quite unusual, is wearied quite down: Confin’d to the Riding-House — Limited Range! His Business of late was mere Gallop & Change; Till back’d by a Cambrian Mad Mountaineer,3 Who tried only how much rough Ground he could clear. Accept then in Verse — (most like Prose) — my true Prayers That your Conduct be clean — as your Album appears; Some Trifles strew’d up and down some of the Pages May vary Life’s Toil through its different Stages; But still whatsoever we say, read, or write; Oh still let the Ground of our Volume be White.

1 HLP wrote these verses for Sophia, who had asked her mother to provide copy for the first page of a new sketchpad. Several versions have survived (in ‘Minced Meat for Pyes’ and ‘Verses 1’, both in the Hyde Collection at the Houghton Library). This version is probably the original, given to Sophia in early 1801. HLP writes a letter to her eldest daughter Hester Maria ‘Queeney’ Thrale on 28 January 1801, ‘[Samuel Rogers] will give Sophia prettier Verses for her Album than I could’. Rogers (1763–1855) was a poet befriended by HLP in July 1789. In her poem, HLP confesses to weariness after the rigours of proofreading her latest book, Retrospection; or a review of the most striking and important events, characters, situations … which the last eighteen hundred years have presented to the view of mankind, which was published by John Stockdale of Piccadilly, London, on New Year’s Day 1801.

2 Sophia shared her mother’s love of versifying (see Letter II), but as her Souvenirs de l’Amitié prove, she was also a talented artist.

3 Cambria is the Latin form of the name for Wales, or in Welsh, Cymru.

to Snowdonia. The long windows in the dining room were designed with an elegant curve to provide the widest possible view of the parkland beyond.

12 HLP had hoped that Sophia and HMH would stay at Brynbella on their honeymoon tour, but the visit was postponed by the Hoares until the following summer.

13 HLP had done business with Vitalba in London since her return from Italy (see Letter VIII).

14 Brynbella’s only drawback was its isolated location. Lady Eleanor Butler was also concerned about lost packages (see Letter XXXVIII).

Brynbella

Saturday 21: May 1808

My sweet Sophia dreams Sure of my beautiful Hand-writing who have not now Two new Pens in my Possession1 — & One of them must be kept for Mr Skeffington’s Epilogue if I have Spirits & Power to make it.2 Meanwhile make him my Compliments, & say the Truth seriously that Mr Piozzi’s Health keeps me in a State far too uneasy for such Undertakings, and that he ought on no Acct to depend upon my Assistance but provide himself elsewhere: — and if any Whim comes into my head that may reach his Hand before the 29: of May he shall have it notwithstanding, & burn it if he likes the other better — without my being offended.3 The Letter you sent me gives Direction enough, so you shall be plagued no more about the Matter.

I hope the Parcel at your House is Southey’s new Poem of Marmion, & a few Pens:4 Cecilia & you must agree how I shall have them convey’d here. I am sorry She is so worried by these Sickly Babies, who will (I doubt not), live many years and be stout Fellows after all … Doctor Johnson did lose the Sight of One Eye though, sure enough; by Measles on a scrophulous Habit: I have heard him say so repeatedly.5 If her Spirits are not too low shew her what follows, ’Tis worthy of her PicNic not her Book.6

For the Present I got t’other Morning from Cecy’s, We have nothing to send but our Thanks & our Kisses; Unless she’ll accept of such Nonsense as this is for the present:

But when Happy Days come, in the Holydays Time, And Rondeaux and Riddles more merrily Chime, We’ll thank her in far less ridiculous Rhyme For the Present.

Bath Monday 4: Augt 1815

my Dear Sophia

I was glad to see a kind Letter from you again … giving an Account of the Sisterhood … steady & all well as the Seamen say.1 Every Place from whence one has been long absent seems improved, and I was much struck with the Gas Lights in London … & the new Bridge — both set on foot since I set my Foot in the Metropolis only one short Year ago: nor did I fail to pay my due Admiration to the Gyant & the Dwarf. Fresh Jugglers are advertised I see from Seringapatam, & I hope the cast-off ones will come to Bath — sure Refuge for Superannuated Wits, Beauties & Conjurers.2

Will Lord Moira send us any Nepauls I wonder; — Oh how sorry one feels to know that new Wars are kindling in Asia before Europe is half quiet. — In some distant Reign, distant in Time not Place, we read of a Man asking his neighbour — “When shall we have Peace my Lord?”

“Marry if the King’s Majesty take Advice from his Gunsmiths, — not very Soon.” — was the Reply.3

Your Account of the Waterloo Heroes is lovely; but why did the People make such an Idol of the Man they took so much trouble to depose … You that live all among the knowing ones, should really explain those Wonders.4

Our Mercer from the Abby Churchyard here, who picked up Bonaparte’s Letters, says the Plymouth Folks quite struggled for a Momentary Possession of — his dirty Shirt.5

Miot’s Mémoires is indeed an Interesting Work — I suppose it induces People to go to France, for our English are flocking thither every Day.6 You and I have the same Taste concerning Guy Mannering. I think it very impressive; and suppose all our Painters will be employed on Meg Merrilies pronouncing her fearful Ban upon EllanGowan as he rides along.7 How Mrs Siddons must delight in Meg Merrilies! Her Song too — Twist ye, Twine ye &c — very striking — scarce inferior to that of Southey’s Khwala in his first & best Poem called

Thalaba8 — Some bitter Pen wrote these Lines on his last Performance —

Yes! Laureate Southey — by Length unapall’d Your Numbers Miltonic — I’ve scan’d ’em: But so roving the Measure, Your Heroe’s miscall’d, For He should have been Roderick Random.

For Man and for Insect with Provender stor’d How Kind is this King of the Goths! First — food for the Critics his Pages afford, And secondly — Food for the Moths.

You have seen them sure, but You must not suspect me, who am partial to both the handsome Brothers & their Uncle.9 Discipline has prodigious Merit, — & I know nothing finer than the Death of Juliet Arnold — I forget in what Volume — but the Character was new to me in Books — and pleased me much indeed.

A Scene in Patronage between Buckhurst Falconer and his Brother John is likewise incomparable in its way … but the Husk of Life will present such Scenes to an acute Observer; one must know the Kernel before one can delineate the last Moments of Selfishness so sweetly as the Author of Discipline has done.10

Lady Harriet Ackland’s active courage & passive Fortitude so uncommonly united — must be looked for in real Life alone: no Novel would dare to exhibit a character so superior. It would be justly deem’d unnatural. I remember seeing a Drawing of her (in Italy) as She pass’d in an open Boat to some Place … The French or Americans firing at her all the way.11 Did you ever read or hear of a Narrative giving Account how the Lady Hobart Packet was wrecked I forget when ago, — & the Passengers saved — by Miracle almost — among the Fogs upon the Coast of Newfoundland? where they at length arrived after incredible Hardships. I am acquainted with the Heroine of that Exploit; a most Interesting Female, & with some Beauty left too. I have made her tell the Tale, but She don’t half like it.12

You do not I am sure expect a Frank — it is hopeless: If there was a Member of Parliament here — he would hide himself.

Bath Thursday 1st July 1819

My dear Girls are very kind & very obliging in writing to me so prettily — Our Cards here — like yours — have all T.T.L. upon them now,1 and I have half a Mind to wash my Face in the Sea somewhere; Wales is however too far off; as I must really save my Spirits & my Money for this January Gala that we talk of.2 The best way is to give it at the Rooms, where every Convenience can be afforded, and ones own House remain undisturbed by the Clatter. You say quite true concerning my Health & Looks, which certainly are better than those of other People at my Age … or ’tis the Fashion to say so, & that is just as well. Had I the Vanity to send you any of the flattering Verses I received last Winter? These are the Shortest among ’em.

Tell me no more of Ninon’s wondrous Charms

That on Life’s Verge set Kings & Courts in Arms; Piozzi’s brilliant Wit and Sparkling Fire

All Hearts can touch, and Dulness self Inspire: Long may her Spirit animate the Clay!

When sever’d from it — rise to endless Day!3

Well! may we never outlive the Faculties that call forth such kindly express’d Partiality!

Charming Siddons — a Dozen Years younger than myself, still blooms the unfading Rose of her Profession: and if her Colours do droop a little — by Daylight — & her Leaves shrink: the Scent … the Fragrance still remains; and will be long sought for to perfume even Imperial Cabinets. Miss O’Neil must content herself with being called a Sprig of Jessamine in the Theatrical Bouquet.4

Who are your great Portrait Painters now? Does Mr Shee who wrote those Rhymes on Art make his Fortune I wonder? He deserves to do so; and is Pellegrini alive & in Fashion?5 Lord Byron’s Mazeppa is a thin Performance, I think the King might

well sleep while the Tale was telling: and as for the Bride of Lammermoor I found it duller than the common Run of Novels.6

Mrs Brunton’s Discipline is worth them all; & since I have learn’d who She was, & whence She came, my Respect for her has much increased.7

Madame D’Arblay’s Son will make her amends for the General’s loss by & by: one hears all good of that Young Man I think.8 Lady Keith & her Daughter will be true Ecossoisses soon if they build in Scotland, & remain there at this Period of the Young Lady’s Life; Madame Flahaut’s settling so far North is of course an Attraction to my Lord. Is not there a new Book of Countess Flahaut’s writing? She is I am told the Author of pretty Ondine, & of something else I forget what.9

Meanwhile les devoirs de la Societé are troublesome Things indeed — One’s oldfashioned Duties to God & our Neighbour not half as difficult; — but the Morning Calls are I think a plague peculiar to Bath; where nothing can compensate one’s forbearance to Knock at Doors which detest being open’d: as People do not keep Porters, and the Servants come up chewing their odious Luncheon, and the House smells of Pickles & Vinegar that make me as sick as a Dog.

Besides that like Lady Corke, I make it a Rule to be at home soon after Two, to receive my own Droppers In.10

Tell Mrs Siddons I will write to her some of these Days: the Print of her Family painted by Harlowe, who made that fine Likeness of my favourite Conway, is in our Windows here, but cannot be purchased: it is a close Resemblance of our Brilliant Actress in Queen Katherine: — pretty Miss O’Neil must be satisfied if we acknowledge her the Pearl of her Interesting Profession.11

Mrs Mostyn bid me write to her at Geneva, and so I have done: her GodDaughter ought to preserve her Beauty these 30 years at fewest.12 Apropos Doctor Whalley who stood Sponsor to Cecy Siddons when our Cecilia did, is very like a Man very ill: & I am sorry for it — he is seven Years my Junior; & however we may talk & laugh, We both know I trust, and both feel that Death must be at hand … Contentons nous de faire bonne Mine.13 It is said of Houchard the French General, that when he went up to the Guillotine one of the Men who led him, said:

Hester Maria ‘Queeney’ Thrale Keith (1764–1857)

George Keith Elphinstone, Lord Keith (1746–1823)

Sir Richard Colt Hoare (1758–1838)

Henry Hugh Hoare (1762–1841)

Sir Thomas Dyke Acland (1787–1871)

Lydia Elizabeth Acland (1786–1856)

No 10: Sion Row Fryday 13: April 1821

Doctors & Surgeons! my dearest Girl! why I have been under their Hands a whole Kalendar month … much to my Loss of Substance — in every Sense of the Word — Purse and Person.1

Nobody knew, or yet knows the Extent of my past Danger, but the Medical Men & the Maid. All is safe now tho’, & I dined out Yesterday, & played low Whist with Mr Davenport an old Country Squire of L’Ecole passèe, and we express’d our Wonder at the Consul of Algiers, & the Westminster Scholar who dashed their empty Heads on the Pavement o’purpose.2

A Lesson from Macready was all I wanted.3

Rising at 3 o’Clock in the Morning at Exeter, I went & looked in the Chaise Seat — if a Pet Box was Safe which I cared about; & returning to Bed, got on a light Straw Bottom’d Chair, which flew from under me — sur L’Instant: entangling both Legs in its Frame, & crushing me to pieces almost.

— This was Sunday 11: March — & I got home next Day in the very highest possible Spirits, rejoycing at every Step that Penzance was far behind.

Resolute Starvation, and Joy to see myself at Clifton enabled me to crack Jokes & laugh at the black & Blue Lady &c. Yesterday a slight Operation was performed, & it has nothing to do now but to heal as fast as Contusion of such Magnitude can heal. — The Shin Bone was laid bare, but not injur’d — & the Wise Men say, I may dance a Quadrille upon the next May Day 4

Now tell me dear Sophia the latest Wonders extant. As to these horrid Books of Demonology — my heart hates them in true Sadness … but Melmoth is not the worst of the Legion — Frankenstein, & People tell me of another — called Anastasius that are worse by half than ought Mr Mathurin has ventured on.5

— When in a merry humour, I fancy myself like Squire Richard in Vanbrugh’s Old Comedy … who said of the Lyons: “Odd! They are pure grim Devils: I gie’d one of them a good Poak of the Noase …” for so I did at the Time when Modern

Prometheus first came out; but have forgotten them all Since — except The Starving Family which is surely Very fine.6

A Captain Ewer who was wrecked with Sir Charles Wager on the Southern Coast of America, used to describe the horrors of Famine to my Father when my Organs were young, & my Mind capable of Impression; so that Time has but strengthen’d, not erased the indelible Description. — The sound of that Man’s Voice telling that Story rings in my Ears still: — he had a Boy under his Care who he loved like his Child. — The Lad was indeed an Orphan … When he was marked to roast for Food to the rest — I — Monster! said Ewer, — cried out: Then the first Cut shall be mine.

They were all saved … & lived … & told the Tale in 1750.7

The Sun NewsPaper frights me about Young Rowley. Had the poor Fellow fair Play for his Life? I have suspicions concerning the Glazier; & his keeping out of Sight increases them.8

Lady Wraxall is my visiting Acquaintance, her Niece seems likely to be quite given up, & She had a strange unaccountable Son beside.

Poor Lady Wraxall! — but the Boy said to me when he was a tall Boy; that He thought his Mother might have been good for something had She never been connected — with his Father!!9 Comical enough! —

Miss Fell’s Misfortune brings Penzance to my Remembrance. I wonder how Miss Willoughby performs her Penance and am much afraid She will like me return from Transportation before the Time is out. — but our Fathers had more Wit than Prudence — both of them.10

Sir Charles Bunbury was my Contemporary — & his Uncle married my Mother’s Aunt; & they are all gone — Time they should!11 When Lord Keith comes, tell him about Kenrick … maybe the Man would rather have it to say he talked to a Lord: May such be his Humour! It will be A happy Riddance of a tormenting Correspondent to Dear Sophia’s ever Affecte H:L:P.12

Don’t you remember a Girl in some old Novel calls to her Sister, Polly Polly! here’s Miss has danced with a Lord; — Dear me! Miss, what did he say to you? &c &c13

Fryday Night14 13 Apl

Letters to Sophia Thrale Hoare from Her Friends

[24 July 1783]

Dearest Miss Sophy1

By my absence from home, and for one reason and another I owe a great number of letters, and I assure you that I sit down to write yours first.2 Why You should think yourself not a favourite I cannot guess; my favour will, I am afraid never be worth much, but be its value more or less, You are never likely to lose it, and less likely if you continue your studies with the same diligence as You have begun them.

Your proficience in arithmetick is not only to be commended but admired. Your master does not I suppose, come very often, nor Stay very long, yet your advance in the science of numbers is greater, than is commonly made by those who for so many weeks as you have been learning, spend six hour[s] a day in the writing school.

Never think, my Sweet, that you have arithmetick enough; when You have exhausted your Master, buy Books. Nothing amuses more harmlessly than computation, and nothing is oftener applicable to real business or speculative enquiries.3 A thousand stories which the the [sic] ignorant tell, and believe, dye away at once, when the computist takes them in his gripe. I hope You will cultivate in yourself a disposition to numerical enquiries; they will give You entertainment in solitude by the practice, and reputation in publick by the effort.4

If You can borrow Wilkins’s Real Character, a folio which the Bookseller can perhaps let You have, You will [find] there a very curious calculation, which you are qualified to consider, to shew that Noah’s Ark was capable of holding all the known animals of the world with provision for all the time, in which the earth was under water.5

Let me hear from you soon again.

I am, Madam, Your humble Servant, Sam: Johnson London. July 24. 1783

The author has asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Front cover: Sophia Thrale Hoare (1771–1824) (detail from Souvenirs de l’Amitié) Back cover: Hester Lynch Piozzi (1741–1821) (detail from Souvenirs de l’Amitié)

Endpapers: detail from Letter IV, 25 January 1807

Frontispiece: detail from Letter III, 1 April 1806