Eliza Fenwick, State Street, New Haven,
Connecticut, to Mrs. M. Hays, Vanburgh [sic] Castle,
Blackheath, near London, 1 August 1823.1
Newhaven Augst 1st
1823
State Street
I take shame to
myself my dear though long neglected friend for my silence. I have known too
for these three weeks past that the last letter I wrote you never was
forwarded. The communication between America & the West Indies is now so
frequent & our let friends there have found so many opportunities of
writing & sending us little tokens of remembrances, that when I was
forwarding a letter on business to Mr Huoly2 ^in Barbadoes^ I sent a packet for England
^directed^ through the usual channel of Mr Robinson & his friend,3 for him ^Mr H.^ to
forward. I was unlucky in my choice of Capn for he never
delivered either mine of or the letters of any other person from this
place & by his American Apathy I have I fear lost the only chance of
securing a debt of £124.13 – as
Mr Huoly could not proceed, when he saw a favorable [paper torn] for
want of the final instructions from me, & now deems it a lost case. My [reason]
for writing to you by so round about a way, was that, not having any connection
in New York, I am obliged to get some of the West Indians here to forward an
[paper torn] letter to their agents ^there^ as there is some little sixpenny
fee to be given to the [paper torn] at the Post Office for English letters,
& I thought I was addressing you in a securer way through Barbadoes beside
saving you Postage. Much as I had heard against American Captains, the
kind handsome (& even affectionate I may say) conduct of the [one] who
brought us to the United States made me believe it a slander; & the [polite]
act, & honorable conduct of another, belonging to this Port, who brought me
a <–> remittance of dollars, & some presents of sweetmeats for the
Children & would not receive any freight obliterated all traces of the bad
report of their taking letters & embezzling small packages, but further
experience has convinced me that [such] things are. Some Jars of Tamarinds, a
Barrel of Yams & a box, I suppose of Guava [Jelly] ^lately^ sent from
Barbadoes ^to New York^ are all lost, beside the letters of whose destruction I
have already complained. But one letter was not even sufficient in so long an
interval I confess.
I have a powerful
claim to your forgiveness for much of my silence. I [suffered] during several
months from severe head-aches which came in every day precisely at the [same]
hour of noon, & lasted all the latter part of the day. If I wrote worked or
read in the evening, I was sure to have a return in the night. Bleeding,
Blistering, Leeches, Medicines and a regimen were all tried & tried in vain
and my spirits sunk to a lower depth of dismay than I remember to have
experienced, because the disease was so decidedly opposed to the claims of my
situation. Every little exertion was torture & I could scarcely bear the
voices of the Children. The necessity of this endurance & the inevitability
of Nerve it produced helped to encrease & prolong these head-aches [paper
torn] not, which have, at last I trust, yielded more to reasoning myself into
less [of a] despondency, & more patience with little evils, than to the
prescribed remedies. During the last year I have certainly had no cause for
sorrow –actual [Affliction] has not approached our dwelling, but I have repined
in secret severely, bitterly I left in Barbadoes a long list of uncollected
debts – most justly & honorably due to us, as the reward of every sacrifice
that duty demanded, & the hard earned remuneration of ceaseless toil. I
left a legal power in the hands of Mr Huoly as my agent put my
accounts into the hands of an Attorney who I was convinced [wd] not
idly commence suits where I shd have to pay expences, agreeing to
pay him 12 per cent out of what was collected. Mr Huoly acted from
friendship. By the last letters I find I must renounce all expectation of debts
that amount to upwards of £700 – and of several remaining ones they entertain
doubts. An Englishman the Collector
of Tortola Mr Snow – gave me his promissory note ^June 14th
1822^ at six weeks for £185 which I placed in the hands of Mr Coakley a Merchant
at St Thomas, with directions how to remit it to America
feeling as satisfied of the punctuality of Mr Snow as it was
possible to be. Not one shilling has yet been paid by him, nothing but excuses
& solicitations for time I have now written to order him to be sued. These
disappointments & losses have set very heavily on my mind. I am growing old
apace & want to travel the rest of my Journey on a smooth & level road.
We are establishing a new [connection] and required our former earnings to set
us fairly & freely forward. Our first year [of] residence here is
has been unavoidably expensive from having a house to furnish [&] winter
preparations both of clothing & furniture ^to make^. We have also the usual
disadvantage of want of experience & often buy dearly, beside the expences
of removal with so large a family from one world to another; and therefore what
we had collected to bring with us was soon swallowed up. It was a delightful
hope & indeed belief I cherished of settling what we could spare of the
money ^still^ to be collected in, upon the [Children], which though not
amounting to a fortune, would have been a little [reserve toward] fixing them to
(the three boys) to some pursuit when old enough. It was a cherished [consoling]
project & the annihilation of it has raised bitter & angry feelings
towards those [persons] whose Children have benefitted, incalculably
benefitted, at the expence of [our] little beloveds. In the dead of night it
has stood before me as a Sin, that I worked [paper torn] & meat &
clothing & instruction, of the offspring of cold hearted strangers &
left our own to depend on contingencies. The doing so was no sin, but a great
folly on my part, the repentance or rather the manner of repenting ^is^ as
great a folly – That I
[paper torn] trying to be wiser the confession must testify, & I am
inclined to think I should [paper torn] for myself & those allied to me if
I could turn my back in all hope [paper torn] recovering the residue of the
money owing me in Barbadoes, and send [paper torn] of Tortola a receipt in
full. I should then certainly have only the future to be anxious about without
the oppressive burthen of thinking I might by stronger resolution have saved
much of the past losses. I am however more & more convinced that we acted
wisely in removing. Our ostensible situation was improving in appearance but
thorns lurked under the roses & we should have gone [paper torn] with the
established habits of Barbadians trusting those who were [paper torn] ready to
be trusted, & have at last sunk under accumulating disappointments.
We have now tried America one year & have reason to be satisfied. [Our]
school gradually encreases & the pay is secure. We do little among the
Americans for very obvious & natural causes. Our terms are much higher than
the other schools [&] we have refused solicitations to lower them. We feel
that we are much better with twenty at the price fixed, than with 50 at half
its amount – Our fatigue [less] our responsibility & our risque less –
Besides our school is more select & [has] a better face. The Connecticut
people are proverbially economical & they have [fondness] of Male teachers
for their girls. A Mr Garfield here, a young [Person too] keeps a
female school & has near 60 I am told. He is very clever, very zealous,
& I am sure very competent, but I am shocked at his manners. A young Lady
was married last week to whom he
once gave Littles poems & bid her shew him which she liked best. She
happened to be related to the Bishop, who is truly the Gentleman as well as
priest, & by his advice she was taken from Mr Garfields school
directly. But this teacher talks [to] his young Ladies of their sweet-hearts, I am assured, without the
smallest reserve. [His] price is half ours exactly, but he never will have a
West-Indian pupil. We have [twenty, 9] are boarders. A Mrs Apthorpe
a Lady most advantageously connected & singularly circumstanced, ^[like
ourselves] settled here a few months before us, who stands much in [our way.]
Her Husband, a Drunkard a Gamester & a brute, had spent a very handsome
fortune & wearied out all their friends, who however took her case into
consideration & on her separating from him according to some form of
American law, they set her up with her three daughters in Newhaven, &
exerting a wide extended interest [got] her several pupils, 16 I believe she
has, tall girls. She boards them & superintends their conduct; &
engages a Master to come every day to instruct them. She is a very pleasing
woman & fit for her situation. It is certain that some of the young ladies
she has, would have come to us, but then we do for ourselves what she pays for,
& therefore we neither are nor ought to be envious. Our profits [are]
greater & it is still predicted that as we become more known we shall
receive pupils from the Southern states. Our income meets our expenditure but I
am have been obliged still to receive advances from ^2 of^ our friends
& patrons here because funds from Demarary are locked up. Did I ever
mention a Mr
Culpeper who placed his youngest girl with us and gave me £100 ^in
advance^ the day she enter’d. During a year he still kept paying in advance
& dying at the end of the year settled a part of his property [secured] to
her to provide for her board & education till she was eighteen with us
unless [she] married first before that period. Her elder brother &
sister he appointed her Guardians. But the Demarary laws will not allow a
Guardian to act before 25 & her brother was but 21. He came to Barbadoes &
to take leave of the child paid [me] up to the end of May ^1822^ with 100
dollars in advance for the voyage & assured me that if the Court appointed
another Guardian my remittances would not be affected. Something, however, has
affected them, for from that hour to this not one penny has come nor even one
line of enquiry form either Brother or Sister. A Mr Benjamin a rich
Demarary Merchant has settled here with his family & sends us two daughters
& a niece. His corresponding Clerk has delivered several letters of mine to
the family ^& beneficiaries^ & sends word they are well &c. We
suppose some disagreement subsists between the Guardian of the Court, & the
young Man. I have by Mr Benjamins advice addressed that Guardian,
& as he, Mr B—, goes in Ocr to Demarary I shall then
get it settled for it is safe, but as 500 dollars are already due, the absence
of that amount wd have put us to difficulties if a good friend here,
had not stopped the gap. – Are you not tired of this grumbling detail of petty differ
disappointmens, but so much have they occupied the course of my thoughts, I
could not help dwelling on them with my pen.
My ardent longings
for your society dear Mary, as a member of our family the severity of the
winter did certainly abate, & the occasional intense heats of the present
summer make me altogether doubtful of the kindness of wishing you to come to
America. For my own part I do not dislike the winter, but Mrs
Rutherford who was always a chilly Mortal suffered inconceivably &
maintains that to be cold & to be happy are incompatible things. Now when
everyone else have been panting with under a suffocating atmosphere she
declares it to be just pleasant. I thought our English climate was variability
itself, but it never equalled in sudden & extreme changes what I have
already seen in America. We spent one evening in Feby at the
[Bishop] of Connecticuts4 & return[ed home] between 11 & 12 in one of
the loveliest & mildest nights a winter ever afforded. [I said spring] was
begun, yet when I opened my eyes next Morning the snow was above [three] feet
deep and the water freezing near the fire side. I do not love the summer [the]
heat is to me intolerable. What with flannels & blazing fires I can keep
myself comfortable in winter & plaids & furs enable me to enjoy
sleighing exceedingly. We [drove] 18 miles one afternoon in one hour & ¼
without any extraordinary speed of the horses [In] the sleigh with me I had
eight Children & it was difficult for the driver to [keep] the horses from
going much faster. Mrs
Rutherford was in Mr Dummetts single horse sleigh with her two
youngest Children & driven by Mr Dummetts Son, & they with
another single horse sleigh ^of the party^ went in a shorter time. The prospect
was glorious. Every twig & every branch of each tree was encased in ice.
The roads were lakes of polished ice, & every field & hedge transformed
into Crystals. A bring bright sun in a clear sky shed such a lustre over
all that it was too dazzling to rest there as I never beheld or imagined a
prospect of such splendor. It is usual for rain to fall after a snow storm
& then freezing follows & effects this brilliant metamorphosis. Then
sleighing is in perfection. It is fashionable to drive about the streets, the
horses are decorated with bells – The sleighs are prettily shaped &
painted, & crammed as full as they can hold of Ladies & Children who
make a dashing appearance with their fur caps & gold bands [& tassels],
& the Buffalo & deer skins hanging round the sides of the sleighs
bordered with scarlet cloth, which as they go crossing & recrossing each
other at every turning with a rapidity like flying. An overturn is thought little of because the
carriage is so close to the ground ^it goes on steel runners, no wheels, &
a child can drive it^. I always prefer’d going into the Country. If you want a
perfect picture of an ice prospect read the Pioneers:
A Novel of extraordinary talent written by a Mr Cooper, a ^an American^ clergyman I
believe. His Spy is also a work of the first order. I have not seen Precaution, another of his
writings & I hear there is a fourth now in the press.5 Seventy Six is also the production of an American, whose name I
have not heard.6 It is powerfully written & laid very strong hold on my
feelings. I wish I could send you an oration lately delivered on the 4th
July by a student of this College because its eloquence as well as its elegance
wd charm you. Mrs Rutherford attended the College
Exhibition of May & was very highly gratified. [An] indisposition prevented
me, but I hope to hear the Senior Class in Septr. The Scotch works
are popular here. Ringan Gilhaize, the Brownie of Bodsnock [sic], & the
Entail7 have also afforded me much
pleasure, & Quentin Durward ranks, in my opinion, much above its two
immediate predecessors from the same pen.8 The American Lord Byron, a Mr Percival is
in Newhaven but so shy & determinately avoiding is he, that there is no
hope of becoming acquainted with him. He is quite young & has the reality
as well as the oddity of Genius. He writes at present for a Newspaper, having,
as I hear, spent his little property.9 We have removed to a large & very
commodious house much to the encrease of our comforts and have now been visited
by ^almost^ all the leading families of this town. Mrs Rutherford is
a universal favorite. The Bishop says she is the finest woman he ever saw –
this was told me by his wife. Now finest
does not relate to ^any^ personal beauty here, but to the mind manners &
tout-ensemble. I tell her she ought to be grateful to an American winter for it
has renovated her in almost singular degree. I often look at her cleared
complexion, her color & vivacity of her eyes, & the roundness of her
person & think she can scarcely be the daughter I brought sallow, colorless,
and almost a skeleton. Our friends here say she looks as young & better now
than when she first arrived in Barbadoes. Of the better, I have no doubt because all that she has done, aye &
all that she has suffered has enlarged her intellect & speaks very
emphatically from her Countenance. Her children have benefitted even more in
health & equally in looks. Of their persons & dispositions I will speak
more in my [next].
With these terrors of
mighty winter & those oppressions of the Summer skies (which I support
merely because they are not lasting) before me, how can I hope to lure you to
America. Ah, no I will not ask it. It is indeed a task at our period of life to
break up old associations & habits & begin new. I remember how long I
was in assimilating my feelings ^& tastes^ to all that was new when I went
to Barbadoes, & though I removed here surrounded by my family, & have
joined a circle I knew previously I even yet have a latent feeling sense
of being in a strange <–> land. I seem to love Barbadoes better than when
I was in it. I could not be tempted to go back. I think & wish to be here
the rest of my days & yet am not altogether at home. No I will never again urge you to quit the connections you
have lived among from infancy. Stay with them or near them, for even little temporary estrangements
are more endurable than final separation. I wish I could see somebody that has
seen you.
Remember us most kindly to Mr
Robinson when you see him & present our good wishes to those of your family
to whom they would be acceptable. Do not punish me by silence. Eliza
bids me give her affetionate regards to you. Farewell Farewell
Yours
very sincerely
E.
Fenwick
So many interruptions occur in the day & our occupation so
engrosses our time that I have now completed this by setting up at night on the
9th of August It is past one
oClock so good night good night my dearest friend!
I was obliged to
divide my paper by an accident
Address: To | Mrs M. Hays | No 41 Cross Street ^Vanburgh Castle^ | Islington ^Blackheath^ | near | London
Postmark: ? 1823
1 Fenwick Family Papers, Correspondence, 1798-1855, New York Historical Library; Wedd, Fate of the Fenwicks 223-30; not in Brooks, Correspondence. Earlier in 1823, Hays had moved from Pentonville to Vanbrugh Castle on Maze Hill, next to Greenwich Park, where Robert Browne and his wife operated a school. Hays was not teaching but merely boarding there, primarily to be near two of her favorite nieces, Elizabeth Dunkin Francis and Marianna Dunkin Bennett, who also lived in spacious homes on Maze Hill.
2 Fenwick clearly spells the name "Huoly" (Wedd spells it Houry, and it may actually be Houley); he was a teacher in Fenwick's school in Barbados and probably assumed control of the school upon her departure, with her still retaining some hope that he could procure the debts owed her.
3 Crabb Robinson and Thomas Amyot.
4 Thomas Church Brownell (1779-1865) was the founder of Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut (1823). He became Bishop of the Episcopal Church for Connecticut in 1819.
5 Fenwick is referring to the early novels by James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851).
6 Seventy-Six appeared in 1823 and was written by the American writer, John Neal (1793-1876).
7 Works by John Galt (1779-1839), Scottish novelist and political commentator. The Brownie of Blednoch was a poem by William Nicholson (1783-1849), known as the “Bard of Gallaway.”
8 Quentin Durward, by Sir Walter Scott, appeared in 1823, immediately following The Fortunes of Nigel (1822) and Peveril of the Peak (1822).
9 John Gates Percival (1795-1856) was an American poet, as well as a surgeon and geologist. He lived most of his life in New Haven, and had recently published Poems (1821) and Prometheus. A Poem (1821).