By the autumn the Piozzis were established in their own house, which Mrs. Piozzi for some time continues to write as Brinbella. Though commenced only as a "cottage," Mrs. Piozzi states in her Commonplace Book that the total cost was over £20,000.
Brinbella, Wednesday 21 Oct. 1795.
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My Master is just recovered from a fit of gout, which, coming at so very untoward a moment, left me no leisure for thinking at the time of any thing else:—but now I am glad that 'tis over.
We were scarce warm in our house before he was laid up, and 'twas cruel to have him disturb'd at such an hour by Workmens' hammers. To them the less disagreeable noise of pretty ladies' prattle has at length happily succeeded; and Mr. Piozzi gallants his wife's four daughters to Holywell Assembly to-morrow. Meantime Mrs. Mostyn is settled at her husband's old Family Seat at Segroid, near Denbigh; his Mama lives with her husband, Major Wynne, at Llewesog Lodge, about four miles from them,—I think we at Brinbella measure eight or nine. Mr. Mostyn means to build another summer, but resides in the old Mansion while that work is going on. I hear no talk of any young ones coming as yet, but we need not despair. Harriet Lee's hour of felicity will come to me, I doubt not; she says, you know, that no human being is truly happy but a Grandmother.
Marquis Trotti is married, and Annette is gone to Manchester. I think the latter a lucky incident, she will have no one to talk the other event over to, and it will fade away the sooner from her memory. Friendship has its thorns like any other rose; a person to whom you can speak freely is a perpetual reflector of your own sensations, and if they are not agreeable, serves to double the pain. The younger sister too may make conquests in a new place, where her accomplishments are likely to strike as rareties. Such companions as our lovely Nancy will not easily be found in a trading town.
My young ladies mean to spend the winter at Clifton, I understand, but all seasons begin late now, and we shall of course endeavour to detain them here as long as possible. They have been prospect-hunting ever since June, and confess these environs very beautiful notwithstanding that Mount Edgecumbe and Penfield have been taken into their tour. They have heard much of dear Mrs. Pennington, and I dare say you will like one another exceedingly; the Siddonses and they are grown quite intimate....
The public news is dismal indeed, but my Master says 'twill mend.
The dowager Mrs. Mostyn took for her second husband Edward Watkin Wynne, of Llwyn, co. Denbigh, the representative of a younger branch of the Wynnes of Gwydir.
Brinbella, 24 Nov. 1795.
My dear Mrs. Pennington will receive this letter from an old Friend by the hand of her Daughters; they will be pleased with your acquaintance, and you will have it in your power to shew them some attentions.
Streatham Park will serve as a common theme for the beginning of conversation, tho' Heaven knows the present times afford ample scope for talk which can scarcely avoid interesting us all. Meantime Miss Thrale has seen so much beautiful scenery in the Western Counties of our Island, England and Wales, that you will delight in making her recapitulate their peculiarities of excellence. Nobody I ever knew, who loved London society with your degree of fondness, continued to possess so strong a taste of Nature and her solitary charms; but I know not whether Clifton Hill makes you any amends yet for loss of Hanover Square.
I heard that poor Mrs. Whalley was dead, but 'tis not true, I hope; if anything will make dear Siddons sit down to write a letter, it must be asking her that question....
Brynbella, Monday 7.
My dear Mrs. Pennington does me wrong in thinking I forget her; but though we live an apparently retired life, being far distant both from Bath and from the Capital, I do not perceive that more time to be disposed of falls to one's share here than at Streatham Park. Our walks, being more varied, are pleasanter, and tempt us out much more. So many improvements too, with Chickens to peck, and Pidgeons to flee, as the Fool said to Mr. Whalley; I am, I think, quite tired by 10 o'clock at night always, and yet impatient for another day, that something may get forward. We have a way too of going to dinner with our neighbours here perpetually, and of sleeping at each other's houses in good familiarity, which takes up some not disagreeable moments. Of London acquaintance we cannot be supposed to see many, but Miss Thrales and Mr. Chappelow, who have been among us, will, I flatter myself, make a good report. For conversation we talk of peace, and war, and fashions, with great success; and the price provisions bear, principally corn, is a matter of serious moment, to us. Strange to me how 'tis endured in the Metropolis, and stranger how the evil will be cured.
You had more need write to me, dear Friend, than think of letters from one who, for all topics of thought or talk, depends upon distant intelligence, and I depend upon good forage in the Bristol quarter. There is always somewhat going forward there.... Send me a yard-long letter....
The "Fool," whose sayings are several times referred to, was doubtless the "famous mechanic, Merlin," of whom Mrs. Piozzi relates in her Commonplace Book that, hearing a discussion on the possibility of stopping the expected French army of invasion, he inquired, "Could they not stop them at the Turnpikes?"
Brynbella, Fryday 18 Dec. '95.
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Well the changes and chances of this world are many and various, and sometimes happen for the better, as they do now upon the Continent. The French run very well indeed;—I told you that vengeance awaited them, and 'tis coming at last.
Meantime you must do me a favour. You must enquire me a Housekeeper such as you know will suit us; a good country housewife, who can salt Bacon, cure Hams, see also to the baking, etc., and be an active manager of and for a dozen troublesome servants: in a word, Abbiss without her faults. The London women of this profession hate to leave the Capital; I should hope better from a rough inhabitant of Bristol or Liverpool, where the people keep good houses, and good order in their houses, and give excellent dinners, be the times scarce or plentiful.
You see Helen Williams advertises a new Book; her friends are uppermost in Paris now, but if these foreign affairs run counter so, I much doubt their ability to stand when general enthusiasm begins to fall.
Adieu, my kind friend, and do look me out a servant such as I have described; the torment these people cause me here at such a distance is intolerable; fetching and carrying them is as expensive as can be, and then the others won't live with them,—and there is no end of their worrying one. Ask your good Mother if she knows one likely to do.
Helen Williams about this time published Letters containing a Sketch of the Politics of France, 1793-4; she had also employed herself in making a translation of Paul et Virginie while in prison under Robespierre. After his fall, the party of the Gironde to which she belonged framed the new Constitution, which came into force 28th October 1795. The Convention dissolved itself to make way for the Directory, which served as a stepping-stone for Napoleon's rise to power.
Wednesday, 20 [Apr. 1796], Brinbella.
What a world it is, dear Mrs. Pennington! But the amiable Whalleys have found better than they expected in it. Everybody will be glad, they are people I think particularly beloved: and since Mrs. Mullins has scamper'd off so, I hope you will be the only favourite, and then good will come out of evil.
Cecilia and her husband are gone to London. I am sorry for it; but she felt very tired of Wales, and he felt disposed—not to indulge but to obey her. I am sorry for that too, a little bridle is not amiss for a young Filly Foal like her. If she had been bringing a pretty Boy, instead of driving to Town in a dangerous Curricle, I should have liked it better, but they think of themselves, not of us.
I congratulate you upon the new Tax: there will be many dogs the fewer for it. Do you remember saying upon Streatham Hill, one day when I thought my neighbour's favourite Spaniel in danger from old Browney, "Let him alone; if he kills it there will at worst be one dog less in the world"?
The dear Lees will, I hope, be all well and happy in the success which is expected to attend Almeyda. Sweet Siddons does not write as if she was encumbered with either health or happiness, but things will mend sometime, sure. I wish she had done with her profession, and could buy a pretty little house and farm just by us here,—that I do: she would like this place better than you would. Mr. Chappelow came and spent three weeks with us, and said how beautiful the country was, and the people how agreeable. But I caught him at last rejoicing in the sight of a man that had seen Wandsworth; and when I observed he was a knowing fellow in his way,—"Why, yes," says he, "you may perceive he has English notions; he was bred at Wandsworth, etc." ...
You must direct your next to me at Dr. Wynn's House, Beaumaris, Anglesey. A dip in our Irish Channel will do me good, and I shall see some waves that have been at Bristol. If we can either get or save half a crown, we will visit you next year, but these sweet grounds round the new house take up all our money. They are beautiful, however, and I do not grudge it. If we live, it will repay us in pleasure certainly, perhaps in profit. Mr. Piozzi mends the estate every day. I wish you could but see it. Miss Thrales like Streatham better, of course....
Nobody ever writes me word whether Marquis Trotti has perpetuated his family by marrying this pretty young Countess, and he has done corresponding with me now. So melt away our quondam society, my dear Mrs. Pennington, and so melt we away ourselves, none of us quite what we were I believe, but none less changed, (tho' not well neither,) than your ever equally faithful
H. L. P.
The above letter is franked, a very unusual circumstance in Mrs. Piozzi's correspondence, by "R. W. Wynne," probably her neighbour Colonel Robert William Wynne of Garthwin, who was High Sheriff for the county.