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Letters from 1804
3rd July, 1804
Dearest Sister,
We have had a most amusing and diverting morning. The innkeeper, upon being advised that we intended on continuing in the same route today, regaled us with an entirely romantic story of the region. It seems that, no more than fifteen years ago, two intrepid young gentlemen by the names of G---- and M-----------, hearing that there was in the area an extensive and unexplored underground cavern, resolved to spend a morning in deciphering it. But, being supplied with only a single candle, they found upon the extinguishment of their flame by an errant breeze that they could proceed neither forward nor backward, having no light nor any other method of finding their way, and could merely huddle in the heavy dark to await their deplorable and premature fate. They were discovered only two days later by a search party of local farmers, lying pitiably in each others' arms, in a hopeless stupor of resignation, and it is said that the younger of the two had lost his capacity for speech.
Finding ourselves in that same country as we rested for luncheon, we discovered a local rustic who admitted to knowing the entrance and pathways of that very cavern, and would for the mere sum of half-a-crown each, bring us to the location of the near-tragedy. I prevailed on Mother to permit us to attempt the adventure, which led us a mile off the mail road on farm passages; but when I stood in the vestibule of the cavern, my miniature candle lighting the pendulously draped folds of rock suspended precariously above me, I felt weight and breath of the earth over my head. (I fear, however, that I shall never get the mud out of my petticoat.)
This expedition delayed our arrival at our Uncle's, but we arrived in good time for dinner which we took tonight with Mr. and Mrs. B---, who had driven in from town for the occasion. We were greeted on arrival by our Uncle's peacock, who has grown quite an impressive display of feathers this season, and struts about the park as if he is the master, and there are two orphaned chickens being kept in the carriage house, whose chirps and childish antics are quite endearing.
I have heard little of the family news as yet, for Mrs. B--- has only recently returned from London herself, and the conversation at table quickly turned to sport – our Uncle has had little luck with pheasants of late, it seems – and I confess I did not attend overmuch to the discussion. The gentlemen excused themselves to walk the grounds, but were soon interrupted by prognostication of a thunderstorm, which indeed were fulfilled shortly upon their departure. The lightning and thunder are quite extravagant, and I find it pleasant to sit by a window and write to you by lamplight, inside this snug house. I do hope the storm does not damage the corn as this is a bad time of year for it!
I hope that you continue well & content in all things & find your days pleasant.
Love & etc,
your affectionate sister,
Sara C-----
Dearest Sister,
We have had a most amusing and diverting morning. The innkeeper, upon being advised that we intended on continuing in the same route today, regaled us with an entirely romantic story of the region. It seems that, no more than fifteen years ago, two intrepid young gentlemen by the names of G---- and M-----------, hearing that there was in the area an extensive and unexplored underground cavern, resolved to spend a morning in deciphering it. But, being supplied with only a single candle, they found upon the extinguishment of their flame by an errant breeze that they could proceed neither forward nor backward, having no light nor any other method of finding their way, and could merely huddle in the heavy dark to await their deplorable and premature fate. They were discovered only two days later by a search party of local farmers, lying pitiably in each others' arms, in a hopeless stupor of resignation, and it is said that the younger of the two had lost his capacity for speech.
Finding ourselves in that same country as we rested for luncheon, we discovered a local rustic who admitted to knowing the entrance and pathways of that very cavern, and would for the mere sum of half-a-crown each, bring us to the location of the near-tragedy. I prevailed on Mother to permit us to attempt the adventure, which led us a mile off the mail road on farm passages; but when I stood in the vestibule of the cavern, my miniature candle lighting the pendulously draped folds of rock suspended precariously above me, I felt weight and breath of the earth over my head. (I fear, however, that I shall never get the mud out of my petticoat.)
This expedition delayed our arrival at our Uncle's, but we arrived in good time for dinner which we took tonight with Mr. and Mrs. B---, who had driven in from town for the occasion. We were greeted on arrival by our Uncle's peacock, who has grown quite an impressive display of feathers this season, and struts about the park as if he is the master, and there are two orphaned chickens being kept in the carriage house, whose chirps and childish antics are quite endearing.
I have heard little of the family news as yet, for Mrs. B--- has only recently returned from London herself, and the conversation at table quickly turned to sport – our Uncle has had little luck with pheasants of late, it seems – and I confess I did not attend overmuch to the discussion. The gentlemen excused themselves to walk the grounds, but were soon interrupted by prognostication of a thunderstorm, which indeed were fulfilled shortly upon their departure. The lightning and thunder are quite extravagant, and I find it pleasant to sit by a window and write to you by lamplight, inside this snug house. I do hope the storm does not damage the corn as this is a bad time of year for it!
I hope that you continue well & content in all things & find your days pleasant.
Love & etc,
your affectionate sister,
Sara C-----