Letter to <persName ref="#Elford_SirWm">Sir William Elford</persName>, <date when="1819-01-09">January 9, 1819</date> Mary Russell Mitford Lisa M. Wilson Mary Russell Mitford Society: Digital Mitford Project University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg Elisa Beshero-Bondar Transcription and coding by Lisa M. Wilson Date last checked: 2015-10-12 Proofing and corrections by Molly C. O'Donnell First digital edition in TEI, date: 5 October 2014. P5. Edition made with help from photos taken by Digital Mitford editors Digital Mitford photo files: IMG_0200.jpg, IMG_0201.jpg, IMG_0202.jpg, IMG_0203.jpg, IMG_0204.jpg, IMG_0205.jpg, IMG_0206.jpg, IMG_0207.jpg, IMG_0208.jpg, IMG_0209.jpg, IMG_0210.jpg, IMG_0211.jpg Digital Mitford: The Mary Russell Mitford Archive Greensburg, PA, USA 2013

Reproduced by courtesy of the Reading Central Library.

Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License Digital Mitford Letters: The Mary Russell Mitford Archive Reading Central Library The letters of Mary Russell Mitford, vol. 4, 1819-1823 qB/TU/MIT Vol. 4 Horizon No.: 1361550 ff. 357 Letter from Mary Russell Mitford to Sir William Elford, 1819 January 9.

One and one-half sheets of folio paper, six surfaces photographed.

Address leaf bearing black circular mileage stamp, partially illegible, reading READING .

Half sheet (pages five and six) torn on right edge where wax seal was removed.

Black wax seal, remnants of black wax adhered elsewhere on page six.

 Red crayon or thick red pencil. Probably a different hand from Mitford's that marks many of her letters, sometimes drawing diagonal lines across pages, and sometimes writing words overtop and perpendicularly across Mitford's writing. On this letter, a red line is drawn from top left to bottom right of each of the leaves. On leaf six (the address leaf), two red lines are drawn from top left to bottom right over each of two text blocks. Someone, apparently other than Mitford, perhaps cataloging letters and describing them, who left grey pencil marks and numbered her letters now in the Reading Central Library's collection. This letter is numbered "1" in the top left of the first leaf.

Mitford’s spelling and punctuation are retained, except where a word is split at the end of a line and the beginning of the next in the manuscript. Where Mitford’s spelling and hyphenation of words deviates from the standard, in order to facilitate searching we are using the TEI elements “choice," “sic," and “reg" to encode both Mitford’s spelling and the regular international standard of Oxford English spelling, following the first listed spelling in the Oxford English Dictionary. The long s and ligatured forms are not encoded.
Bertram House Jany 9th 1819.

I don't remember that I promised in my last not to write till I heard from you, my dear Friend. So for once I may indulge my scribbling inclination without incurring the risk of being laughed at--no not laughed--smiled at by you as "infirm of purpose".Shakespeare's Macbeth, II.ii--"A very woman" The title of a 1655 play by Massinger and Fletcher. Also a line from Beaumont and Fletcher's A Woman Hater: "Thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman" (2.1.46). & so forth. Besides next week is Sessions week & Members will be "as plentiful as blackberries" Falstaff from Henry IV, part one: "If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I." (II.iv).--And then considering my doleful prognostications you will like to know that I have outlived the Ball--So I must write. Its It's a thing of necessity. Yes I am living & lifelich--as Chaucer says"The letter sleeth, the spirit yeveth lifelich understandyng." From Chaucer's The Testament of Love. Mitford may have read this text in The Works of the English Poets, with prefaces, biographical and critical, from Chaucer to Cowpwer (1810). Volume 1 of 21 features Chaucer.--And that I did survive that dreaded night I owe principally to that charming thing a Dandy. Don't you like Dandies--the beautiful race? I am sure you must--But such a Dandy as our DandyIn Mitford's 1819 January 10 letter to Mary Webb, she identies her "Dandy" as Mr. Crowther. few have been fortunate enough to see. In general they are on a small scale--slim whipper snapper youths fresh from College--or new mounted on a Dragoon's saddle--Dainty Lighthorsemen--or trim schoolboys--Ours is of a Patagonian breed--6 feet & upwards without his shoes, & broad in proportion--Unless you have seen a wasp in a Solar Microscope you have never seen any thing like him--Perhaps a Brobdingnagian Hourglass Reference to Brobdingnag, fictional land of giants in Swift's Gulliver's Travels. might be more like him still--only I don't think the hourglass would be small enough in the waist. Great as my admiration has always been for the mechanical forces inventions of this age, I know no thing that has ever given me so high an idea of the power of machinery--not the Portsmouth Blockhouses, or the new Mint--as that perfection of mechanism--by which those ribs are endued in those stays. I think one or two must have been broken to render such compression possible. But it is improper to dwell so exclusively on the breast stays when every part of the thing was equally perfect. Trowsers Trousers , Coat, neckcloth--Shirt Collar--head inside & out--All were alike in & exact keeping. Every look every word, every attitude belonged to those inimitable stays. Sweet Dandy! I have seen nothing like him since Liston in Lord Grizzel John Liston played Lord Grizzle in the pantomime Tom Thumb at the Haymarket in 1810. Lamb and Hazlitt mention Liston in this role. More usually spelled Grizzle. In Charles Lamb's essay, "The New Style of Acting," he writes: "For a piece of pure drollery, Liston's Lord Grizzle has not competitor." Hazlitt also mentions Liston in this role in Lectures on the English Comic Writers.--He kept me awake & alive the whole evening. I don't think I ever laughed so much in my life--and all this laughter I owe to that exquisite person. Dancing or sitting still he was my "Cynosure"--I followed him with my eyes A cliche by Mitford's time, the phrase refers to Milton's L'Allegro (1632): "the cynosure of neighb'ring eyes."as a schoolboy follows the vagaries of a new his top--or the rolling of a his hoop--Much & generally as he was admired I don't think he made so strong an impression on anyone as on me--He is even indebted to me for the distinguished attention of a great wit, who was attacking a friend of mine, & whose shafts I was lucky enough to direct to that impenetrable Target of Dandyism--He owed me for at least twenty good things said by the aforementioned wit--& for twenty other good things more valuable still as being spoken by those who never uttered a good thing before in their lives--All this he owes me--& is like to owe me still--for I am sorry to say my Dandy is an ungrateful Dandy--Our admiration was by no means mutual--"He had an idea" he said (a very bold assertion by the bye)--"He had an idea that I was Blueish"--So he scorned away upon being threatened with an introduction, just as my dog Mossy (begging Mossy's pardon for the comparison) whisks off at the first whiff of our dog-hating Cook. Well peace be to him--poor swain--& better fortune--for the poor Dandy is rather unlucky. He fell into the Thames last summer on a water party & got wet through his stays--& this Autumn having affronted a young lady & being knocked down by her brother a lad not 19 he had the misfortune to fall flat on his back & was forced to lie till some one came to pick him up being too strait laced to help himself. How I should have enjoyed the sight! Should not you? Oh if he had lain till I had helped him!

Now for an enormous jerk.

two jerks one is not enough to express the immense distance between a Dandy & a clever woman!

I see that poor Mrs. Brunton is dead--The Authoress you know of Self Control & Discipline & I believe some other book. Did I ever talk to you about her? If I did it was probably under the name of Mrs. Discipline--the name by which Mrs. Rowden In The Queens of Society by Grace and Philip Wharton, the authors note that, while unmarried, Frances Rowden "styled herself Mrs. Rowden" (1860: 148).used to call her. You are not likely to have admired her books which always seemed to me to have almost all the faults which very clever books could have--preachy & prosy--false to character, to nature & to passion--and yet with occasional powerful flashes of sense & talent. I liked the lady much better than her works. She was exceedingly robust in mind & person--perhaps even coarse in both respects--large boned, dark complexioned, red complexioned rather, & of loud speech & abrupt manner. But there was in all she said some point & much strength--much bodyshe seemed too perfectly frank, kindly, & unaffected,--& her very awkwardness had sometimes a grace from its genuineness (Have I spelt spelled that hard word right?) its genuineness its ease & its power. Now that she is dead, poor thing, I wish I had cultivated her acquaintance more earnestly--I met her once or twice at the house of some very clever people in Sloane Street where Mrs. Rowden was intimate--but I did not like her husband who was exceedingly priggish & parsonic--that was one reason & vanity (perhaps at the time I might call it modesty) was another--She was always civil but it was perfectly clear that she did not care a farthing for me--Besides I never could get over those sermonizing books.

Have you read Mr. Fearon's book on America? I have just finished it with the greatest amusement. I don't know any thing more agreeable than to have one's preconceived notions of a place or people confirmed by a good clever authority--a matter of fact authority--who brings you in a tangible shape good reasons for old prejudices. This is the pleasure Mr. Fearon has given me. I always detested America & the Americans (all except Washington & Franklin) without very well knowing why--except that in that fair & fresh & beautiful world-- with every thing to inspire & incite them to excellence in Art & in Nature--they had done nothing, & they were Nothing. Mr. Fearon has now added positive to these negative proofs, & has fairly set them forth as the most boasting vainglorious, ignorant trumpery cold hearted people that ever crept on the face of the earth. His book is invaluable as an antidote to the delicious poison of Mr. Birkbeck's beautifully written works--an antidote the more powerful as coming from a friend to Liberty & an admirer of the Republican form of government.

I have just had a very pretty little present The Literary Pocket Book. Have you seen one of them my dear Sir William ? They are edited I believe by Leigh Hunt certainly the greater part is written by him & exceedingly well written. I have seen nothing of the sort so well executed. First of all there is a Naturalist's Calendar very beautifully written--indeed those not quite extensive enough for the title It should rather have been called the Florist's Calendar--& even then it would seem a little suburbian--rather Hampstead Heathish--but very pretty nevertheless--Then in the common pocket book part--the months & weeks & days there are occasional notices of birth days of great men--Bacon Shakespeare & so forth, which come upon one very pleasantly--Then lists of Artists Musicians Actors & Authors (only think of their having left me out! That Authorial list is very incomplete indeed! Not one word about me! And my own friends too! Ah they have no "idea that I am blueish" to borrow my friend the Dandy's phrase--He would have stuck me at the head of the list) well these catalogues notwithstanding this great omission are very gratifying--& then there is Poetry--not quite so good as I expected from Mr. Hunt, Mr. Keats, &c but still much better than ever adorned a pocket book before-- good enough to stare & wonder how it came there. If you wa nt such a book I would recommend it to you.--And now my verydear Friend good bye! I shall finish before Tuesday.

Monday Morning. I have just finished Nightmare Abbey--Have you met with it? By far the best of Mr. Peacock's works--worth all his prose & all his poetry Rhododaphne & Melincourt inclusive. There never was a more cheerful & amiable piece of persiflage--full of laughing raillerie & smiling philosophy--This Nightmare Abbey is really the most sunshiny book I have met with for many a day in spite of its gloomy title--It is a very clever attack on mystical metaphysics & misanthropical poetry (Deuce take the book for putting me to hard words.) And knocks them completely down in the person of my poor dear friend Mr. Coleridge & Lord Byron--knocks them down (as his unruly subjects did poor Sancho in the Island of Barataria& then dances upon them--Nothing was ever better managed than the way in which Mr. Peacock continues to put divers stanzas of Childe Harolde done into prose into the mouth of Mr. Cypress--the Lord Byron of the story. The book has another great merit too. It is short.

After great search we have been lucky enough to obtain an actual & undoubted son of my White cat Selim, nearly half grown & quite White--but I am sorry to say rather defective in two material points--being unluckily neither deaf nor two eyed--misfortunes which he owes to his vulgar English Mama. I shall keep him for you very carefully & take all the care that I can that my beautiful puppy Miranda does not kill him, till you tell me what to do with him. Do come & fetch him, my dear Friend, there is no way so safe.--

Adieu--Papa & Mama join in kindest regards & good wishes, & I am always most affectionately your's yours M.R. Mitford.
Reading January ninth 1819 Sir WmElford Bart. Bickham Plymouth CFPalmer