[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, November 25, 1810]

Princess Anne, Nov. 25^th '10

My dear sister

Your silence is still unbroken, you have no conscience! How can you have resisted my repeated and pathetic remonstrances? Enough to move the heart of a stone. Well be it so. Your negligence shall not rescue you from persecution.

Arthur’s debut in the holy estate is fast approaching, the time appointed is the 15th of next month for the nuptials, I have receiv’d an invitation to the affair, but as they will set off for this place the day after (viz. 16th) it will be impossible for me to go to C- even if I had an inclination, as I must be here to create a sensation on the young folks arrival. Thus you see, we old household-stiff-rump’d-pad-poneys pretty generally are saddled for the amusement of the frolicsome young hunters after pleasure

and without any retribution save the privilege of kicking now and then under the saddles, but at last are obliged to yield to the rein and curb at the will of the rider.

Arthur has just arriv’d from Cam^e on his way to N- and announces the wedding to take place on the 13th instead of the 15th. I can’t tell whether I shall be enabled to accept of your kind invitation to be of the party at your house, for as much as pork time will then be coming on, and my Nancy is unwell, and not likely, from the ague, to be able to attend to any family affairs this winter. This is bad for I, but you know “when needs must &c.” However, we are in the pleasing anticipation of seeing yourself and my good brother here in time for the grand event. I wish this entirely and sincerely.

I jog on in the “statue quo” some times drunk and some times sober, but oftener “roaring mad.” Sooth to say, I have not been in the sweetest

mood, of dulcet temper very [page fold] difficulties and domestic broils are becoming so frequent that I begin to think it high time for me to sweeten my mind by changing the air. I always find myself falling into this morbid state of ennui by too close a confinement to one scene. If I can but get to N-! this winter. Retta had taken it into her head to insist on my taking a trip to Easton with her this fall. Mr. Teackle was anxious for it, as was going to B-e but some how I cou’dn’t get into the right humour for either anticipating or enjoying such a scheme.

Your quondam beau, the old genl’s gutter assistant, the redoubted major will be down tomorrow. It is rather unfortunate at this critical juncture, for the last pidgeons were made into a pye two days ago and the major loves pidgeons. The fact is our larder is

neither here nor there at this present time, but must be after recruiting very soon.

Well what are you all doing? Won’t my face this winter act on you as Lady Montrevor’s¹ Irish friends did on her tenacious optics? Will you not be petrified to behold the rallying post of the ten dozen? The molasses cask eh? Me thinks the flies swarm already!

Have you heard from Matthews lately? I’ll swear now, by my true honesty, I do want to see you hugely and I’m sure brother John must have wish’d for a pinch of the new box now. ah! Tis a true box!

Farewell my dear friend

E.U.T.