Penzance, 5 Mar. 1821, Monday.
... This is a short letter, but I am on the eve of a long journey, and the kind friends here require many visits, and notes, and thanks, and so forth: and some of them have lent me Kenilworth, so that must be galloped through. Forgive me therefore, and accept my positive answer by securing me this good lad, who I like the better for his name, Sam. I had once a Footman so called, who could not, and would not be spoiled. He is dead, and poor Hodgkins too, that said he was going to take places for me, with his last breath. He was Sam at the first. I shall be glad to see them both, and remain meanwhile dear Mrs. Pennington's and her good husband's ever obliged and faithful
H. L. P.
Mrs. Piozzi evidently left Penzance in the course of the week. On Saturday she was at Exeter, and after sitting up writing letters till the small hours of the morning, retired to rest, using a light chair to climb up into the bed, which was a high one. But the chair slipped, and gave her a violent blow on the leg, causing a severe bruise and a slight wound. However, she attended the cathedral service next day, though she could hardly kneel, and in due course reached Clifton; taking up her quarters at 10 Sion Row till Mrs. Rudd should be ready to receive her at the Crescent. The accident caused some alarm to her friends, but according to Mrs. Pennington's account, the wound healed rapidly and no evil consequences ensued. But internal troubles followed which neither physicians nor surgeons could overcome. The few short notes which follow, mostly undated, were written during her illness, of which no one for some time anticipated a fatal termination.
Sion Row, No. 10,
Tuesday, 10 Apr. 1821.
Addressed—
Mrs. Pennington, Dowry Square
With 1000 Coms—Sickly ones—from a Taker of Castor Oyl.
(She encloses a letter from Conway).
I got a letter from Mr. Roberts, the Curate of Dymerchion, begging me to make the Parish the present of a Bier, to carry the dead Poor. So I finished my Epistle to Salusbury, which you saw, with letting him know the request; and "tell Roberts," said I, "the favour is immediately granted"; for this is a debt I cannot, surely, be blamed for; and if I am, dear Salusbury must at last be contented to consider me as his unaccountable, no less than his Affecte Aunt,
H. L. P.
Sion Row, No. 10,
Thursday, 11 Apr. 1821.
'Tis I shall be made happy, dear Mrs. Pennington. Our kind and skilful Dickson is just gone. He only waited till things were in the state they should be, I perceive; and to day he brought the tall man again, who performed the operation, and praised my courageous endurance. This for your own kind heart's private information. Mine is completely satisfied of their skill and management.
A thousand respectful compliments await Mr. Davenport, love to Mr. Pennington, threats of ruin at Cards to Mrs. Bellhatchet, and humble service to Miss Wren.
All that was done yesterday and to-day, (rough usage on the whole,) has raised, not lowered the spirits of your ever obliged and faithful
H. L. P.
Undated, on a Visiting Card.
I have been to the Crescent by the Surgeon's permission, and now comes the Doctor to insist upon my eating. I must obey you all, or I should deserve to be neglected by every living creature; and so far as I can, I will obey you.
Poor dear Dr. Dickson! he is as low spirited as myself, he has been among the Lunatics.
On miniature notepaper.
Dated Tuesday.
Very little better, dearest Friend, but certainly not worse, and though unmoved by all the new things swallow'd,—dying for a Paper. Can you direct James where to find one? Shame and Bessy have struggled all night, and the first gets the better. She cannot go to dear Mrs. Pennington without me to help her,—to words, I suppose.
Mrs. Pennington to Mrs. Brown
3 Jun. 1821.
... I knew you would feel for my loss, an irreparable one to me, for if twenty years ago I could find nothing to replace it, I am not likely, in the winter of life, and more particularly after two years of almost daily intercourse, which, by the endearing restoration of more than former kindness and confidence, doubled its value....
At present I can think of nothing, talk of nothing, nor dream of anything but my lost friend....
My best comfort is that I attended my beloved friend to the last moment. For three days and nights I never quitted her bedside, where, at my summons, I had the satisfaction to see her attended by her three charming daughters, and more charming women I know not. Oh! what a sum of happiness did she throw from her, through the misapprehensions, etc., which separated her from them! But in this respect Retrospection is both useless and painful. She was absolutely lost from inanition! She either could not eat enough to support nature, or had brought herself to it from a mistaken system; till, on a slight disorder, a sudden prostration of strength took place, and nothing could be done! She had her wish, however, which was never to live to support the mere dregs of life; and would have made, I think, rather an impatient invalid, under the suppression, or deprivation, of those uncommon powers which rendered her the delight of every one that came near her, to the last. I hope you saw my character of her in the Papers. I should not have had the temerity to have attempted it, but at the earnest request of her daughters, who feared it might be attempted by some one who did not know her as well, and might not have written so much to their satisfaction. It has answered the purpose by silencing all other scribblers on the subject, and met with much more general praise and approbation than it deserves....
Mrs. Pennington to Maria Brown
23 Jun. 1821.
... It is a new thing to me, dearest Maria, to feel reluctance in addressing you. But such is the effect of a late melancholy event, that I shrink from all exertion. It has impressed a languor on my spirits more fatal than grief, and more distressing than positive pain. It was a blow for which I could not be prepared, if indeed we are ever prepared for the loss of those we love; as only ten days before, she had dined with us in a party of ten or twelve persons, and was, as usual, the delight and soul of the company. And the sudden reverse appears to me, even now, at times, more like a frightful dream than a fact! I actually detect myself expecting to see or hear from her, until the sad reality forces itself upon me, and convinces me that time does not lessen those regrets, that time only more clearly and strongly discovers to us the value of what we have lost....
If twenty years ago I could find no substitute, I am less likely when two years of almost daily association, with, as it should seem, increased affection and renewed confidence, gave additional interest to our connexion. While the apparent, but deceptive vigour of her corporal powers, held out a promise of many years of future enjoyment. I firmly believe she fell a victim to the extreme abstemiousness of her habits; actually sunk under inanition! Attacked by a slight disease, there was no reaction in the system. She suffered little and died easy. So far she had her wish, which was always to escape the tedium and imbecility of invalidism, and to preserve her faculties unimpaired while life remained. I had the mournful satisfaction of ministering to her last hours, and of seeing her close those brilliant eyes in the presence of her children; their tears I trust embalmed, and their affectionate attention soothed her last moments. But from better acquaintance with these ladies a new source of regret has opened upon me: that through some strange misconstruction of circumstances, and perversion of mind, my beloved friend should have lost such a sum of happiness, as, but for some most mistaken conclusions, these daughters (the most charming women I have almost ever met with,) could not fail to have imparted. But Retrospection is useless as painful, and it is best to draw an indulgent veil over the imperfections of poor human nature on all sides. They remained at Clifton a week, during which time I was almost constantly with them. It was only from me, they said, that they could gain any accurate idea of their departed Mother's habits and connexions. They were never weary of the interesting subject, and unbounded in their acknowledgments to me for affording them, by timely information, an opportunity of performing their last duty to their parent. I have had the kindest and most flattering letters from them since their return to Town, with an elegant remembrance, from each sister, of my dear deceased friend. It was at their earnest request I had the temerity to give to the Public the last tribute I could pay, which probably you have seen, as it was copied into all the London Papers, and has had much more praise than it deserved. That it answered the end proposed, by silencing certain writers, who, these Ladies were apprehensive, might have given "the Celebrated Mrs. Piozzi's Character" in a manner less agreeable to their feelings, is indeed highly satisfactory to me; and their warm approbation the best recompense and sweetest incense I could receive....