But it must not be thought that these were the only topics touched upon in the correspondence between father and daughter. Some of the letters reveal an extraordinary interest in Politics which must, surely, have been unusual among women a century ago. They also clearly indicate that the same critical faculty which was applied to literature by Miss Mitford was also focussed on men and manners. “What Grattan may be when speaking upon so interesting a subject as places and pensions, I know not; but when he was brought in last Parliament to display his powers upon the Catholic question (which is, I admit, to party men a subject of very inferior importance), the House was extremely disappointed. If I remember rightly, he was characterized as a ‘little, awkward, fidgetty, petulant speaker’; and the really great man who then led the Opposition easily dispensed with his assistance.... I perfectly agree with you as to the great merit of Lord Erskine’s very eloquent speech; and, as he was against the Catholic question, his opinions will have more weight with the country than those of any other of the ex-ministers. I always thought Lord Sidmouth a very bad speaker. His sun is set, never, I hope, to rise again!”
Of Shaw Lefevre she evidently entertained a poor opinion and appears to have been unable to forgive or forget his supposed complicity in the plot to bring the Doctor to Reading during Election time.
“Mr. Lefevre sported some intolerably bad puns, which were, I suppose, intended for our entertainment; but they did not discompose my gravity.” This was after a visit he and his wife had paid to Bertram House, on which occasion he must have had a chilly reception from one, at least, of the ladies. She continues: “I believe that he has no inclination to meet you, and was glad to find you were in town. Little minds always wish to avoid those to whom they are under obligations, and his present ‘trimming’ in politics must conspire to render him still more desirous not to meet you, till he has found which party is strongest. That will, I am of opinion, decide which he will espouse.... In short, the more I know of this gentleman the more I am convinced that, under a roughness of manner, he conceals a very extraordinary pliancy of principles and a very accommodating conscience. He holds in contempt the old-fashioned manly virtues of firmness and consistency, and is truly ‘a vane changed by every wind.’ If he votes with the Opposition to-day, it will only be because he thinks them likely to be again in power; and it will, I really think, increase my contempt for him, if he does not do so.” Had poor Mr. Lefevre been anxious to propitiate his little critic, and had he seen the concluding sentence of her letter as above, he must surely have been nonplussed as to the course of conduct necessary to achieve that end!
During this year it is certain that Miss Mitford began seriously to think of authorship in the light of something more than a dilettante pastime and the scribbling of heroic verses to the notable men whom her father was constantly meeting as he gadded about town. Doubtless the haunting fear of impending disaster had much to do with this, though possibly she conveyed no hint to her parents as to the real cause of her diligence. “We go out so much that my work does not proceed so fast as I could wish” is the burden of a letter she wrote towards the end of May, “although,” she adds, “I am very happy I have seen Lord Blandford’s, my darling, as I should, if I had not, always have fancied it something superior.”
Lord Blandford’s was the estate known as “Whiteknights Park,” still existing on the southern heights overlooking Reading. During the twelfth century the land maintained a house which was attached to the Hospital for Lepers founded by Aucherius, the second Abbot of Reading Abbey. It was purchased in 1798 by the Marquis of Blandford (subsequently Duke of Marlborough) who spent a considerable sum in having the grounds laid out in the landscape style. Miss Mitford was not only disappointed but severely criticised the whole scheme, whilst of the lake she wrote: “and the piece of water looks like a large duck pond, from the termination not being concealed.” With the perversity of her sex—and it was a habit from which she was never free—her later descriptions of the place are quite eulogistic and she refers to
“These pure waters, where the sky
In its deep blueness shines so peacefully;
Shines all unbroken, save with sudden light
When some proud swan majestically bright
Flashes her snowy beauty on the eye;”