by Hazel Holt
Mr Woodstock hastily replied that the death had been very sudden and that Dr King had been called immediately it was discovered. Sir Matthew announced his intention of questioning Dr King thoroughly about the matter, and indeed, I pity the poor doctor – the most conscientious and agreeable of men, as we all know – if he is to be put through such an examination!
When I told our mother about it when we returned (her head being better from a liberal application of the Steele’s Lavender Water you sent her from Bath) she was very indignant on Dr King’s behalf. She said that she had always thought Sir Matthew a most unpleasant man and had never been able to decide in her own mind whether he or his sister were the most tiresome. It was very sad, she said that the only agreeable member of that family, Mr James Russell’s father Thomas, a military man, had died of a fever in Spain.
You tell me that Mr and Mrs Cosway are in Bath, lodging at the Charitable Repository – I wish the scene may suggest to Mrs C. the notion of selling her black beaver bonnet for the relief of the poor.
Mary complains that it is many weeks since she heard from you but says you are doubtless so immersed in the pleasures of Bath that you have no time to write, although she did tell you in her last that she has had one of her bad throats this last month or more and, as we are aware, her throats are always worse than anyone’s. However, I remain your affectionate sister,
E.C.
29th June
My Dear Charlotte,
You will, I imagine, be surprised to receive another letter from me so hard upon my last, but I am just returned from another visit to Mr Woodstock and feel I must take up my pen at once to acquaint you with the latest news. I went with our mother who wished very much to learn for herself the result of Sir Matthew’s cross-examination of Dr King.
“For you may depend upon it,” she said as we sat in the carriage on the way to Holcombe Park, “he will have bullied the poor man quite dreadfully and goodness knows what he may have obliged him to say!”
We arrived to find Mr Woodstock in a state of great agitation and for a little while he was unable to find coherent words to tell us what had occurred. Fortunately Mr James Russell was present and was able to tell us that Sir Matthew was not satisfied about his sister’s death and had actually announced that, in his opinion, the circumstances were doubtful. Indeed Sir Matthew was at this moment in the Library writing to some other eminent medical man whose opinion he wished for on the matter.
“But surely,” our mother said, “he is not doubting Dr King’s judgement in this? We all know that Dr King is an excellent physician. Why when Mary had that putrid throat as a child he brought her back from the very brink of the grave!”
On Sir Matthew’s entering the room she continued upon this theme with considerable enthusiasm. Sir Matthew seemed unmoved by this tribute to a lesser member of his profession and spoke gravely of possible negligence or, at the least, inadequate examination of the body.
At this word Mr Woodstock became even more agitated and Mr Russell was obliged to ring for brandy to calm him.
“It is the greatest possible pity,” Sir Matthew said “that I was not here when it happened. Now it may be necessary to obtain an exhumation order.” At this I thought that Mr Woodstock was about to have a fit, causing Mr Russell to remonstrate with his uncle, who, finally becoming aware of his brother-in-law’s distress, spoke more moderately.
“Dr King,” he said in his patronising way, “appears to think that my sister died of an angina. That is certainly not the case. Had her heart been in any way affected I would, myself, it goes without saying, have been aware of the fact. Too many of these country physicians – if so they can be called – are inclined to attribute any death they are uncertain of to this cause. Of course,” he continued in what I imagine he intended to be a conciliatory tone towards my mother, “they do not have the knowledge or experience to make any more reasoned judgements and one would not expect them to do so.”
Our mother began to expatiate indignantly on Dr King’s behalf with several anecdotes of his remarkable prescience in cases known to her, but Sir Matthew, who is, I am sure, not used to any sort of interruption or contrary view to his own, went on, “I intend to question the servants most closely as to the circumstances of my poor sister’s last evening – what she ate and drank, for instance – and draw what conclusions I can from the consequences.”
Mr Woodstock, seeing as a result of these cross-examinations, the end of all comfort in his house, protested that they had all been in his service for many years and were completely reliable, but he might as well have saved his breath. It was perfectly obvious that Sir Matthew was accustomed to taking charge, and since he, Mr Woodstock, had been unable to command his wife in anything, he was unlikely to be able to do anything to countermand anything her brother might wish to do!
As you can imagine, our mother spoke much of the matter on our way home. “Sir Matthew is the sort of man I detest. Mr King is worth ten of him. Now that tiresome man will stir up trouble and all to no avail – it will not bring back Mrs Woodstock and will distress poor Mr Woodstock, who, as anyone can see, is already quite distracted by all the fuss and nonsense.”
I do agree with her sentiments entirely, wondering indeed whether even if the fuss could bring Mrs Woodstock back, we would altogether welcome her reappearance!
To more important matters. I would wish you to buy for me the brown cambric muslin that you spoke of (excellent for morning wear). Seven yards for my mother, seven and a half for me; a dark brown, but the kind of brown is left to your own choice and I would rather they were different, as it will always be something to say, to dispute about which is the prettiest.
Your affect. Sister,
E.C.
Yesterday I had the agreeable surprise of finding the scarlet strawberries quite ripe. There are more gooseberries and fewer currants than I thought at first – we must buy currants for our wine.
8th July
My Dear Charlotte,
All Lyme is now buzzing with the events at Holcombe Park. Mrs Woodstock’s death has gone from being merely a great tragedy and is now become a powerful melodrama. Maria Brompton and Miss Gregory who called this morning to tell us of the possibility of an engagement between Elizabeth Finch and Mr Chute, Mr Fletcher’s curate at Uplyme, were quite diverted from their purpose when our mother told them the latest from Holcombe Park and willingly left poor Miss Finch in matrimonial limbo whence who knows if she will ever be rescued.
According to our Lucy, Sir Matthew has closely questioned Sarah and Chapman concerning the events of that fateful night, but Sarah was too frightened to do more than mumble very little and Chapman, who, as you know, is a sterner character altogether and almost as disagreeable as her late mistress, declined to do more than repeat what she had already told her master. So everything is at a standstill. This does not please Sir Matthew who is the sort of man who must be doing things so I daresay he will not let the matter rest. Meantime it does provide our circle with a prime subject for conversation now that the militia are removed from the neighbourhood. Speaking of which, I was much taken with your account of Lady Willoughby presenting the Colours to some Corps of Yeomanry in the Crescent, especially your description of her bonnet of cambric muslin – cambric being very much on my mind at present. You say they are a good deal worn and that some of them (though not Lady Willoughby’s) are very pretty. However, I shall defer acquiring one of that sort until you are returned to advise me.
We have had an invitation from Sir Edward Hampton to dine at Marshwood Abbey. I do not expect much entertainment there since he seems to me, on the occasions I have met him, a melancholy man with no sort of conversation – or at least none which he is prepared to waste upon young women, being mainly occupied by agricultural and judicial matters (for on such he converses quite freely with my Father) and not willing to waste his time on female frivolities such as music, poetry and gossip. I will not, therefore, waste the delights of my new gown (muslin with a small
red spot , made up for me last week by Mrs Ferris) upon the company, but will wear the plain white muslin – the one you advised me to dye blue, though I think I will not for the present – which is respectable without any pretension to fashion, which would, I feel, be out of place in that particular household.
We are like to have a great crop of Orleans plums, but not many greengages – on the standard hardly any, three or four dozen, perhaps, against the wall. Charming weather for us and I hope for you so that you may be able to take your walk with Miss Brydges. I will write after we have dined at Marshwood, though I do not have any expectation of there being much of interest to tell you of that visit.
Yr affect. Sister,
E.C.
11th July
My Dear Charlotte,
I am pleased to say that my low expectations of our dinner party at Marshwood were not disappointed. It is a handsome house, I admit, but the furniture is sadly old fashioned and the want of any female touch means that there is an air of darkness and gloom about the place.
The drawing room where we were entertained had many heavy pieces of ornate furniture that must, I believe, have belonged to Sir Edward’s grandfather, and I wonder that his mother, the late Lady Hampton, suffered them to remain, which makes me think that she must have been a poor sort of woman, not much given to opinions of her own!
The dinner itself was well prepared, even our father (who is, as you know, a self confessed expert on such things) admitted later that he had never tasted a finer saddle of mutton, and I was delighted to find a splendid selection of cakes and jellies, which made me think that Sir Edward was fortunate in his cook and his housekeeper. And , indeed, this proved to be the case for when the housekeeper herself brought in the tea tray after dinner while Sir Edward and our father were sitting over their port, she appeared to be a most sensible woman. Our mother – as you may imagine – questioned her closely and discovered to her pleasure that Mrs Hodges – for that is her name – is the sister of Tom Jennings who is a tenant of Mr Woodstock at Upper Bracklands farm near Holcombe. This immediately set the seal upon her respectability. She vouchsafed the information that Sir Edward was a good master and away from home a great deal – whether the one fact influenced the other I cannot tell. His being away so much, she said, was sad for the two little boys, whose governess Mrs Hodges declared to be an indifferent sort of person, scared of her own shadow and not at all suited to instruct and entertain two lively children. I think she would have said more but, upon the gentlemen entering the room, she very properly withdrew.
The conversation was not particularly lively, for, although Sir Edward said everything that was suitable to our mother and to me, he seemed more inclined to continue the conversation he had been having with our father in the dining room – something tedious about shooting and the prospects for the coming season – and I felt his attentions to us were merely polite. For, as you know, no young lady will think favourably of a man who heaps praise upon his new gun dog while appearing impervious to her charms. Indeed, I wondered why he had not simply made a morning call upon our father instead of inviting us all to dine, and on our own with no other family to share the “entertainment.”
However, he did know about William and his position on the Scorpion and, since he is a cousin of an Admiral of the White, he promised to make enquiries about William’s present situation. This, of course, was enough to make our mother consider him the most excellent of men and I certainly felt more favourably disposed towards him in spite of the dullness of the evening.
In the carriage on the way home our mother said, “It was kind of Sir Edward to offer to get us news of William. But he does seem to be an odd sort of man and I must confess I was surprised to find no other company there but ourselves.”
“He is but lately come into the neighbourhood,” our father said, “and has made very few acquaintances as yet, having been away a great deal, and as a widower has no wife to make calls and receive them. The fact of his inheriting unexpectedly means that he has been consulting me, since I was a friend of his brother until his untimely death, as to certain details about the running of the estate. Our being the only guests tonight was, I believe, a mark of his respect and gratitude to me for the help I have been able to give him on the matter.”
Our mother, who as you know, has never bothered herself about such things as estate management, merely repeated that it would still have been more comfortable with some other guests.
“And those poor little boys. So young! How sad for them to have lost their mama! I am sorry we did not see them. Mrs Hodges – a good sort of woman, Sir Edward is fortunate to have her – said that the governess was quite useless, and I would have liked to have seen for myself how matters stood. However, perhaps an opportunity may yet arise for me to do so.”
“I am sure, my dear,” our father said “you will manage to make such an opportunity.”
Which reminds me to tell you how the new carriage is liked – very well indeed, except for the lining, but our father is pleased with it as is Will coachman, his approval being, perhaps, the more important .
I must hasten now to thank you for the stockings which I liked very much and greatly prefer having only two pairs of that quality to three of an inferior sort. The combs are very pretty and I am much obliged to you for your present; but am sorry you should make me so many.
We all unite in best Love and I am
Your very affect. Sister,
E.C.
18th July
My Dear Charlotte,
Such news! Sir Edward called especially to give our father a letter he had received from the Admiral about William. “He has been continued in the Scorpion; but I have mentioned to the Board of Admiralty his wish to be in a frigate and as it is judged that he has taken his turn in a small ship, I hope he will be removed. Indeed, I am glad I can give you assurance that his promotion is likely to take place very soon, as Lord Spencer has been so good as to say he would include him in an arrangement that he proposes making in a short time relative to some promotions in that quarter.” You will imagine our delight at this! Our mother spoke again and again of our gratitude and our father said everything that was proper.
“It was nothing,” Sir Edward said. “I was pleased to be able to repay in some small way the debt I owe to you sir, for the help you have given me regarding the estate.” His manner is, as I have probably told you, very stiff, and it is difficult to engage him in ordinary conversation, but we certainly owe him a debt of gratitude for this favour. I long to see William and our father thinks it probable that the Scorpion may be come in soon for a refit and we may hope to have letters from him then.
Meanwhile our father and Sir Edward being then occupied with a discussion of cows, bacon, hay and hops, and other such agricultural matters I removed my attention and concentrated on designing in my head my new bonnet in which I plan to surprise the company at the picnic the Holders are planning for later next week. It is to be of straw – to suit the rustic nature of the party – with green ribbons and perhaps daisies and cornflowers to continue the theme. Do you not think it sounds charming and will be the cause of much admiration (and some jealousy)?
You will be pleased to learn that Maria Brompton’s rug is finished at last – I saw it when I visited her yesterday – and it looks well, tho’ not as well as she had hoped. There is no fault in the border, but the middle is dingy. She says she will not attempt another.
We hear from Lucy that Mr Wilmot, emboldened perhaps by the absence of his former adversary, called upon Mr Woodstock last week to plead the cause of John coachman, and it is now decided that he is to be re-instated. You may imagine the delight with which this news was received by Sarah, since the wedding may go ahead at last. She told Lucy that Mr Woodstock had given John 3l and said that they should have the cottage by the lodge gate at Holcombe. I do not know whether it be the effect of Mr Wilmot’s warm words or Mr Woodstock’s guilt at the unreasonable behaviour of his late wife but certainly
the result is cause for much rejoicing. It may be that this is the time for Mr James Russell to put forward his own matrimonial plans for his uncle’s approval. I believe Miss West (and certainly Mrs West) will expect him to do so.
Pray tell our Aunt that I cannot yet satisfy her as to Mrs Foote’s baby’s name, and I must not encourage her to expect a good one, as Captain Foote is a professed adversary to all but the plainest; he likes only Mary, Elizabeth, Anne &c. Our best chance is ‘Catherine’, which in compliment to his sister seems the only exception.
Our garden is putting in order by a Man who bears a remarkably good character, has a fine complexion and asks less than the first.
I hope your cough is gone and that you are otherwise well. And remain with love,
Yrs affectionately,
E.C.
23rd July
My Dear Charlotte,
My expectation of having nothing to say to you after the conclusion of my last seems nearer truth than I thought it would be, for I have but little. There is one event, however, that has occasioned some pleasure and that is the departure of Sir Matthew to London. It seems, according to his own account, that the Duke of York has succumbed to a minor indisposition and will have no-one but Sir Matthew to attend him. This, of course, may be the fact of the matter, indeed I have every expectation of reading in the papers that the Duke is suffering from a slight cold, but whether he has expressed a positive wish for Sir Matthew’s presence I am more doubtful.
Nevertheless the general feeling is that of relief at his departure. I am sure that is particularly true of poor Mr Woodstock, who has hardly yet recovered from Sir Matthew’s declaration that Mrs Woodstock’s death was suspicious. The general feeling in Lyme is that poor Dr King has been sadly traduced by Sir Matthew and everyone seems determined to show their support. Indeed I do believe that Dr and Mrs King have never, in all the years they have lived in Lyme, received so many invitations to dine. Some from motives of sympathy , and some, I daresay, from curiosity as to the final hours of Mrs Woodstock. Our mother’s opinion is that Dr King is a much finer physician than Sir Matthew and that the Duke of York would be far better served by having him in attendance, citing Dr King’s miraculous effect upon Mary’s putrid throat.
