Maria Grace Saffery, Hastings, to Eliza Saffery, London, 20 October [1841].

Dear Eliza

   Soon after I came hither, I began to think that I could send a portion of my journeying pleasures to the homes of those I love; and among these I thought of Peckham, and of a dear captive Matron there, keeping watch over her baby charges, with the tender fidelity of an anxious Mother; but thinking and doing, especially if the doing involve letter writing, are often far apart; and in the present instance I have found it almost impossible to effect a practical coalition.  I might indeed produce a catalogue of very genuine excuses, for the silence I regret; but a detail of these in their matter of fact form upon paper, might even induce you to wish that I had failed in the attempt, to break it now.

   Suffice it, dear Eliza, to say that the pleasing impressions, made during my late visit in your cheerful home, have not passed away: that the peace I saw prevailing there, has been a subject for thankful meditation even since, awakening sweet hopes, that you and your dear husband, were making progress in the path of wisdom as partakers of that “godliness, which hath the promise of the life that now is, and of that, which is to come” – In the state of Carey’s mind, I perceived that unusual calm which cannot be in him mistaken for the result of physical, or apathetic repose; and in both of you I saw a mindfulness of holy things, which cheered my inmost soul with the thought, that you had chosen for your portion “that better part, upon which the hand of Time can impose no vicissitude,” since the “Lord that changes not, is the portion of his people.” Go on Beloved, train up your children in His fear; and they shall be to you a blessed heritage from Him – Bestow on each of these dear ones, a tender message from Grandmamma in the suitable gradation of sentences and words and kisses, adapting, if you please, the mode of the remembrance to the age of the remembered.  You see I have closed my Sermon, so as to make its gravity agreeable; introducing by way of improvement, the “Olive branches at your table.”

   Now then, a few notices, about this ancient Town, old indeed! but strangely mingling the rude magnificence of former times, with the unimpressive masses of architectural deformity to which by the law of fashion, yet more perhaps, by the love of convenience, we are reconciled.  Such combinations, however, must be admitted without murmur for though like a reform Bill, they may disfigure the grandeur of the Ages past with the littleness of modern innovation; our taste for the sublime would secure but a comfortless abode within the precints of a trembling Tower or a broken battlement.  So let us be content to look at these over the then slated roofs of more commodious dwellings.  And after all, the incongruous forms I have described give a sort of picturesque wildness to the scenery of this place, not unproductive of pleasant fancies. I am now sitting before a window from whence the ruined ramparts of the castle are beheld frowning in stern contrast above the somewhat lofty mansions, of Wellington Square; and seem in the sullen stillness of decay to assume a prouder aspect as they look down on this recent memorial of the Modern Conqueror. But I recollect that you are not at the window; nor liable it may be to illusive imaginations.  Forgive my romance.  Carey I know will pardon me, because I have made honourable mention of his Ducal Hero, who, indeed, well describes the name of Conqueror.  Enough of this – I am quite sincere in the praises I have bestowed on Hastings; but when I think of this holiday ride we enjoyed together, in the review of your more sober scenery, I can willingly take myself, in thought, to the tranquil Hills and vales, which awakened our grateful admiration as we passed along.  Yes, I do not forget that social morning, nor the quiet evening hours of other days nor the Sabbath privilege of Camberwell Chapel.

   But I must close my letter.  Adieu then, dear Eliza, be assured I have a heart warm with the recent expressions of your kindness – I speak figuratively; and without immediate reference to the velvet Shawl, which, with all its admitted charms, both of comeliness and comfort, could not produce the immaterial glow, except indeed that I receive it with a delightful confidence in the Spirit which prompted the donation.

               Yours, with the true interest of relative affection

                                 Maria Grace Saffery

I should be charged with remembrances to dear Carey and yourself, if my present communcation had been stated. How is your friend & Cousin Mary Mullet?  She is a great favorite in this household  – unite us all in kind expressions of regard. Present for me also, when you can, words that a mother’s love would dictate to the dear Ones in Cateaton Street.  I am a sad delinquent as a correspondent there; but I trust only in that character.

Don’t forget to make ye Schoolfellows welcome to a part of ye cake

Text: Timothy Whelan, gen. ed., Nonconformist Women Writers, 1720-1840 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2011), vol. 6, pp. 434-36 (annotated version); Reeves Collection, Box 14.4.(r.), Bodleian Library, Oxford. No address page or postmark. 

The above letter is addressed to Selina Eliza Pitt (1811-44), wife of William Carey Saffery (1803-43). She would die within three years of the above letter. Some references above may be to her children, or it may be that she was keeping a school of her own at this time. Denmark Place Baptist Chapel, referred to above as Camberwell Chapel, was led by the Rev. Edward Steane (1798-1882), was one of London’s more prominent Baptist churches. The Mary Mullett mentioned above was most likely a member of the same Mullett family that derived from the marriage of Thomas Mullett and Mary Evans at Broadmead in Bristol in the 1760s, a family that would be close friends with the Steeles in Broughton and now, through their relations the Nortons and the Biggses, to the Saffery and Attwater families. A good possibility is that this is the daughter of Frederick Mullett, son of Thomas Mullett and the one who unfortunately led the family firm into bankruptcy in 1815. For more on the Mulletts, see Volume 3, p. 441, n. 271.

The Reform Bill of 1832 made sweeping changes in reapportioning the members of parliament in a more representative fashion, especially in relation to the northern industrial cities; the Bill also eliminated the infamous ‘rotten’, or ‘pocket’ boroughs, in which certain MPs were elected by as little as seven voters.

Wellington Square in Hastings, named in honor of  Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1769-1852), had become home to rows of stately four-story townhomes by the 1830s (see image below).