Recent reading
Jul. 15th, 2022 09:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
luzulaLetters and Journals of Mrs Calderwood of Polton, from England, Holland, and the Low Countries, 1756
I've been wanting to read the writings of women involved in the '45 (oh, for Margaret Ogilvy's diary *sigh*), and this is so far the closest I could get. Mrs Margaret Calderwood, née Steuart, is the sister of the James Steuart who wrote manifestos for Charles Edward Stuart, and who also wrote a respected work of economics, An Inquiry into the Principles of Political Economy. He was in exile on the continent after the war, and his sister was travelling to visit him. It has an excellent 19th century introduction detailing their family connections.
More about these: their father, grandfather, and great-grandfather are ALSO named James Steuart/Stewart, and were more or less Whigs. They were all moderate and sometimes vacillating and of one of them it is said that he 'failed to give entire satisfaction to either side'. Of the grandfather, a family story is told that during the threatened Jacobite invasion of 1708, a kinsman urged him to flee to England since he had had a hand in drawing up a manifesto for William of Orange back in 1688. And he allegedly replied, 'Ay, ay, my dear, that is true, and I must draw this man's [James III] too.' Hee. Writing manifestos for invading princes apparently ran in the family. Our diarist was the grandniece of Janet Dalrymple, the 'Bride of Lammermuir'. Her sister Agnes married the Earl of Buchan and also studied mathematics with Professor MacLaurin, of MacLaurin expansion fame. I love that! James Steuart's wife was Frances Wemyss, the sister of Lord Elcho who was out in the '45.
Mrs Calderwood reminds me of my mother: she is opinionated, seems to enjoy talking to strangers, and is the person in the marriage who does all the arranging and managing. In Brussels, she hears that it is impossible to find and rent a well-furnished apartment, and then takes great satisfaction in telling us of the places she looks at before finally finding an apartment that fits her needs, and how she makes sure to find good furniture at reasonable prices. Meanwhile, her husband rests in bed at the hotel with a cold. Later in life, she manages their estate and writes a manual on estate management, while he...I have no idea what he does. The introduction calls him 'indolent' but also notes that he was good at languages.
She assures us that her brother was not actually a Jacobite, oh no, it is dreadfully unjust that he is not allowed to return home. I take this with a grain of salt, because of course she would say that while she was petitioning in his favour. It's unclear what her own opinions are. At one point she meets a committed Jacobite on their travels: 'He is a great Jacobite, and he dares not speak out, and the Pretender is in such distress, that in short he is miserable. I tell him I wish I may never have the toothack till I be troubled about the publick. At the same time, I can speak as much Jacobitism as he pleases, and he is very fond of me, because I tell him fine stories about the Highlanders and the Pretender in the time of the rebellion, and all the ill prats [gossip] of the Duke of Cumberland. I tell him to come to Scotland, and he will get as many Jacobites as he can set his face to; and he laughs and is so merry, and then comes a deep sigh.'
She writes with fascination of the different customs of different countries, and about Catholicism. The 19th century editor apparently removed some passages because they were too vitriolic towards that religion--but OTOH she arranges to have her sons go to a Jesuit school while they live there, as long as they don't have to attend mass etc. She also comments on dress: '...this country, where everybody, from their want of stays, goes two-fold.' Because their boobs hang down?? Also this: 'The Dutch stays contribute greatly to their vulgar look ; they run in like a sand-glass below, and stand out round like the same above ; they set their shoulders up to their ears, and bring them forward as the landward lasses do when they hold up their head.'
At one point they meet young Towneley, the son of Francis Towneley who was executed after the '45 (whose head, btw, was stolen back from the Tower by his relatives and kept in a bank vault until 1945, when it was buried). Here is her opinion on him: 'Mr. Townly is very bashful and grave, and has no liking to anything in particular, and I think seems to be one of little good or ill. His mother told Mr. Nidham that, when he was young, instead of play with his brothers, he used to sit by her and cut paper, or any such thing as that. I have often observed that the mind and body of folks are mismarrowed, and some men should have been women, and he, I think, is one.'
This book also gave me the experience of looking up a word in the OED, and seeing the very phrase in the book as the first OED quote! Here is the phrase: 'Here I saw the largest midden cock I think ever I saw, which I coveted, if I could have known what to do with him.' Very suggestive, but I don't think she meant it that way...
In 1758 James Steuart moved to Venice because of his gout, where he made friends with Mary Wortley Montagu. Here is from the 19th century afterword: 'James Steuart used to say of her that when she was in spirits he experienced more enjoyment from her conversation than he could derive from the most interesting book that ever was written. The climate of Venice was found not quite suitable for the invalid, so they took a house at Padua, and a pathetic leave of Lady Mary. Their astonishment was great when they discovered, on their settling themselves there, that Lady Mary was also installed in a house at Padua in their near neighbourhood, where she continued her kind ministrations.'
There are also some bits about Prussia and Frederick the Great, which I have shared with the Frederick the Great fandom over atcahn's salon.
I've been wanting to read the writings of women involved in the '45 (oh, for Margaret Ogilvy's diary *sigh*), and this is so far the closest I could get. Mrs Margaret Calderwood, née Steuart, is the sister of the James Steuart who wrote manifestos for Charles Edward Stuart, and who also wrote a respected work of economics, An Inquiry into the Principles of Political Economy. He was in exile on the continent after the war, and his sister was travelling to visit him. It has an excellent 19th century introduction detailing their family connections.
More about these: their father, grandfather, and great-grandfather are ALSO named James Steuart/Stewart, and were more or less Whigs. They were all moderate and sometimes vacillating and of one of them it is said that he 'failed to give entire satisfaction to either side'. Of the grandfather, a family story is told that during the threatened Jacobite invasion of 1708, a kinsman urged him to flee to England since he had had a hand in drawing up a manifesto for William of Orange back in 1688. And he allegedly replied, 'Ay, ay, my dear, that is true, and I must draw this man's [James III] too.' Hee. Writing manifestos for invading princes apparently ran in the family. Our diarist was the grandniece of Janet Dalrymple, the 'Bride of Lammermuir'. Her sister Agnes married the Earl of Buchan and also studied mathematics with Professor MacLaurin, of MacLaurin expansion fame. I love that! James Steuart's wife was Frances Wemyss, the sister of Lord Elcho who was out in the '45.
Mrs Calderwood reminds me of my mother: she is opinionated, seems to enjoy talking to strangers, and is the person in the marriage who does all the arranging and managing. In Brussels, she hears that it is impossible to find and rent a well-furnished apartment, and then takes great satisfaction in telling us of the places she looks at before finally finding an apartment that fits her needs, and how she makes sure to find good furniture at reasonable prices. Meanwhile, her husband rests in bed at the hotel with a cold. Later in life, she manages their estate and writes a manual on estate management, while he...I have no idea what he does. The introduction calls him 'indolent' but also notes that he was good at languages.
She assures us that her brother was not actually a Jacobite, oh no, it is dreadfully unjust that he is not allowed to return home. I take this with a grain of salt, because of course she would say that while she was petitioning in his favour. It's unclear what her own opinions are. At one point she meets a committed Jacobite on their travels: 'He is a great Jacobite, and he dares not speak out, and the Pretender is in such distress, that in short he is miserable. I tell him I wish I may never have the toothack till I be troubled about the publick. At the same time, I can speak as much Jacobitism as he pleases, and he is very fond of me, because I tell him fine stories about the Highlanders and the Pretender in the time of the rebellion, and all the ill prats [gossip] of the Duke of Cumberland. I tell him to come to Scotland, and he will get as many Jacobites as he can set his face to; and he laughs and is so merry, and then comes a deep sigh.'
She writes with fascination of the different customs of different countries, and about Catholicism. The 19th century editor apparently removed some passages because they were too vitriolic towards that religion--but OTOH she arranges to have her sons go to a Jesuit school while they live there, as long as they don't have to attend mass etc. She also comments on dress: '...this country, where everybody, from their want of stays, goes two-fold.' Because their boobs hang down?? Also this: 'The Dutch stays contribute greatly to their vulgar look ; they run in like a sand-glass below, and stand out round like the same above ; they set their shoulders up to their ears, and bring them forward as the landward lasses do when they hold up their head.'
At one point they meet young Towneley, the son of Francis Towneley who was executed after the '45 (whose head, btw, was stolen back from the Tower by his relatives and kept in a bank vault until 1945, when it was buried). Here is her opinion on him: 'Mr. Townly is very bashful and grave, and has no liking to anything in particular, and I think seems to be one of little good or ill. His mother told Mr. Nidham that, when he was young, instead of play with his brothers, he used to sit by her and cut paper, or any such thing as that. I have often observed that the mind and body of folks are mismarrowed, and some men should have been women, and he, I think, is one.'
This book also gave me the experience of looking up a word in the OED, and seeing the very phrase in the book as the first OED quote! Here is the phrase: 'Here I saw the largest midden cock I think ever I saw, which I coveted, if I could have known what to do with him.' Very suggestive, but I don't think she meant it that way...
In 1758 James Steuart moved to Venice because of his gout, where he made friends with Mary Wortley Montagu. Here is from the 19th century afterword: 'James Steuart used to say of her that when she was in spirits he experienced more enjoyment from her conversation than he could derive from the most interesting book that ever was written. The climate of Venice was found not quite suitable for the invalid, so they took a house at Padua, and a pathetic leave of Lady Mary. Their astonishment was great when they discovered, on their settling themselves there, that Lady Mary was also installed in a house at Padua in their near neighbourhood, where she continued her kind ministrations.'
There are also some bits about Prussia and Frederick the Great, which I have shared with the Frederick the Great fandom over at
cahn's salon.
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Date: 2022-07-15 08:17 pm (UTC)Well THAT is quite a story!
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Date: 2022-07-15 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-16 12:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-16 02:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-16 09:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-16 02:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-18 09:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-07-18 06:40 pm (UTC)