February 1810

Little Hamlet

Friday, 09 February 1810

I’ve recalled Gilbert spoiling me hyacinths and roses days after we met in his brother’s gardens. He described me “handsome as a rose” as he gave me hyacinths—reminds me of Apollo mourning his dear Hyacinthus. 

Gilbert brought a white kitten—he named it Hamlet. He found Hamlet in an alley in Bath. ‘Twas fortunate he seems gentle for Hamlet as it nearly starved to death.

I haven’t touched a puss since I returned to Penworth. I have several cats in Penworth: Lucille—unfortunately passed, Bowie, Austen, and others—taken care by servants. These pusses were trained for catching mice, yet used for comfort. I ne’er received scratches—unless I was in my nightwear; they’d scratched my breeches in some occasions.

Returned to Penworth (for a Portrait)

Monday, 12 February 1810

Mother ordered me to return to Penworth—as she commissioned Sir L— Campbell for a portrait. I’ve met him again since Gilbert’s commission for a portrait as Ganymede.

I’d left Hamlet for Gilbert upon arriving to Penworth, yet I have Austen—a puss with black spots, named after a respected family in Bath; and Bowie—a cool grey sweet heart.

The portrait seems contrasting upon the subject and the walls in the great hall. Upon looking the letter in the portrait, it was labelled as “My Love”. Not quite unpredictable for a man like Sir L— Campbell, as Gilbert gossiped about such beauty, as I seem similar to his deceased wife.

Portrait of Viscount Mousehole, by Sir Lawrence Campbell, 1810

Sir Edward O'Vile, Bt. 

Tuesday, 20 February 1810

I returned to Penworth, yet both Mother and Uncle Charles stayed in London and Bath. I reunited with younger brother Alexander, yet I encountered such strange and familiar soul. 

Patrick seems horrid—warned me about Sir Edward after a sight of a familiar ring. ‘Twas made after Grace's death, for keeping her few locks, yet I opposed it. I explained Sir Edward was lying, just to use for poisoning his father-in-law—the Marquess.

He explained Sir Edward wanted Grace, for the Marquess’ wealth. Instead, the Marquess chose Patrick over Sir Edward, for mutual trust and affection.

Sir Edward married to Grace's younger sister, Lady Amelia Hopkins. The marriage fell upon Amelia’s discovery of her husband’s confession for killing of her father.

March 1810

Frail Health

Tuesday, 06 March 1810

After returning to Barkham, Gilbert was caught with a cold, again, after lying under a tree. ‘Tis twice since he caught a horrible cold during our stay in Bath. I’d told Mrs Andrews to care upon Gilbert's concerned health. She dothn’t seem concerned as his sickness occurred twice on annual winter season.

I merely fret—concerned for his unfortunate illness. His illness worsens—once a shadowed silhouette beckoned me to suspicion, yet I hath seen such strange soul similar to his.

I’ve sent prayers for health, and letters for Mother.

Lovers' Eye

Friday, 16 March 1810

As I commissioned for the Marchioness de Guerre for lovers’ eye, I’ve seen Lady Dominique de Guerre—holding a book of admiring someone’s mother. She seems seeking Michelle, an elderly tortoiseshell puss. Michelle stopped clinging towards me as the young lass called her. 

I remained hither ‘till the Marchioness allows me staying in the library with her dear daughter. It disappoints Gilbert if I hadn’t read Shakespeare and Homer. He remained on the Marchioness’ sight. Gilbert seems frown upon Gothic literature for such extreme values.

Michelle interrupted the young lass as the young lad grabbed a book: History of King Arthur, a King of Britain. She’d noticed Michelle as she responds, in sarcastic tone, “You must be Lord Mousehole.”

“Yea, you’re familiar…erm, you must be—”

“I know you were in Papa’s ball.” she recalled as I began to embarrassed. How would a daughter of the Marquess witness such embarrassment—I wouldn’t mind!

“I’ve seen such embarrassment. It seems you’d consumed syllabubs and passed thither—I’d told Elinor to bring the poor lad from such fretful sight.” she continued.

“I thou—I mean—Gilbert told me they saw me passed.”

“You must thank me! Not him,” she replied. “I ne’er like that rake!”

A footman approached hither till I followed to the drawing room. I was pleased as the Marchioness finished the commissioned miniatures. Gilbert's eye was in a form of a locket, yet mine was in a form of a ring. 

Miscellaneous Artwork:

An Engraved Illustration of Mary Hamilton, c. late-18th to early-19th century