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Updated: June 23, 2025
Say everything for me to the Ticknors and Nortons and your own people, the W s. Ever most faithfully and affectionately yours, M.R.M. Swallowfield, February 1, 1853. Ah, my dear friend! ask Dr.
Lady Russell, who had sent the phaeton with the fast-stepping horse to meet us, was walking in the park as we drove up, and instead of taking us back to the house, she first led the way across the grass and by the stream to the old church, standing in its trim sweet garden, where Death itself seems smiling and fearless; where kind Mary Mitford's warm heart rests quiet, and 'her busy hand, as she says herself, 'is lying in peace there, where the sun glances through the great elm trees in the beautiful churchyard of Swallowfield.
At Swallowfield we failed to find a place to stay at; there was no such place; and of the inns, named, I think, the "Crown," "Cricketers," "Bird-in-the-Hand," and "George and Dragon," only one, was said to provide accommodation for travellers as the law orders, but on going to the house we were informed that the landlord or his wife was just dead, or dangerously ill, I forget which, and they could take no one in.
Thoughts soothing and tender came with those touching lines, and gayer images followed.... It is from Swallowfield that she writes: 'I have fell this blessing of being able to respond to new friendships very strongly lately, for I have lost many old and valued connections during this trying spring.
Well that is a picture of the Swallowfield cottage at this moment, and I wish that you and the Bennochs and the W s and Mr. Whipple were here to add to its life and comfort. You must come next year and come in May, that you and dear Mr. Bennoch may hear the nightingales together. Now they are over, and although I expect him next week, it will be too late.
At Swallowfield a name which Mary Russell Mitford has made pleasant to English ears "no less a person than the Speaker of the House of Commons," the representative of an old Huguenot refugee, the Right Honourable John Shaw Lefevre, commanded the troop of yeomanry. The Iron Duke met his honoured guests in the hall and conducted them to the library. Every day the same formula was gone through.
Moreover we have had such rains here that the Lodden has overflowed its banks, and is now covering the water meadows, and almost covering the lower parts of the lanes. Adieu, dearest friend. Ever most faithfully yours, M.R.M. Swallowfield, October 13, 1852. More than one letter of mine, dearest friend, crossed yours, for which I cannot sufficiently thank you.
The other President goes on nobly, does he not? Say everything for me to dear Mr. and Mrs. W and all friends. Ever yours, M.R.M. Swallowfield, December 14, 1852. O my very dear friend, how much too kind you are to me, who have nothing to give you in return but affection and gratitude! Mr.
From Three Mile Cross we walked on to Swallowfield, still by those never-ending roadside red-brick cottages and villas, for we were not yet properly out of the hated biscuit metropolis. It was a big village with the houses scattered far and wide over several square miles of country, but just where the church stands it is shady and pleasant.
'The paper is all odds and ends, he says, 'and not a scrap of it but is covered and crossed. The very flaps of the envelopes and the outsides of them have their message. Mr. Payn went to see her at Swallowfield, and describes the small apartment lined with books from floor to ceiling and fragrant with flowers.
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