1745-1833
[Sidenote: _Memoir of Mrs. Hannah More._]
“I was much struck by the air of affectionate kindness with which the
old lady welcomed me to Barley Wood--there was something of courtliness
about it, at the same time the courtliness of the _vieille cour_,
which one reads of, but so seldom sees. Her dress was of light green
Venetian silk; a yellow, richly embroidered crape shawl enveloped her
shoulders; and a pretty net cap, tied under her chin with white satin
riband, completed the costume. Her figure is singularly _petite_; but
to have any idea of the expression of her countenance, you must imagine
the small withered face of a woman in her seventy-seventh year; and,
imagine also (shaded, but not obscured, by long and perfectly white
eyelashes) eyes dark, brilliant, flashing, and penetrating, sparkling
from object to object, with all the fire and energy of youth, and
smiling welcome on all around.”--1820.
[Sidenote: S. C. Hall’s _Memories of Great Men_.]
“Her form was small and slight: her features wrinkled with age; but
the burden of eighty years had not impaired her gracious smile, nor
lessened the fire of her eyes, the clearest, the brightest, and the
most searching I have ever seen--they were singularly dark--positively
black they seemed as they looked forth among carefully-trained tresses
of her own white hair; and absolutely sparkled while she spoke of
those of whom she was the venerated link between the present and the
long past. Her manner on entering the room, while conversing, and at
our departure, was positively sprightly; she tripped about from console
to console, from window to window, to show us some gift that bore a
name immortal, some cherished reminder of other days--almost of another
world, certainly of another age; for they were memories of those whose
deaths were registered before the present century had birth.... She
was clad, I well remember, in a dress of rich pea-green silk. It was
an odd whim, and contrasted somewhat oddly with her patriarchal age
and venerable countenance, yet was in harmony with the youth of her
step, and her unceasing vivacity as she laughed and chatted, chatted
and laughed, her voice strong and clear as that of a girl, and her
animation as full of life and vigour as it might have been in her
spring-time.”--1825.
[Sidenote: A. M. Hall’s _Pilgrimages to English Shrines_.]
“Her brow was full and well sustained, rather than what would be called
_fine_: from the manner in which her hair was dressed, its formation
was distinctly visible; and though her eyes were half-closed, her
countenance was more tranquil, more sweet, more holy--for it _had_
a holy expression--than when those deep intense eyes were looking
you through and through. Small, and shrunk, and aged as she was, she
conveyed to us no idea of feebleness. She looked, even then, a woman
whose character, combining sufficient thought and wisdom, as well as
dignity and spirit, could analyse and exhibit, in language suited
to the intellect of the people of England, the evils and dangers of
revolutionary principles. Her voice had a pleasant tone, and her
manner was quite devoid of affectation or dictation; she spoke as one
expecting a reply, and by no means like an oracle. And those bright
immortal eyes of hers--not wearied by looking at the world for more
than eighty years, but clear and far-seeing then--laughing, too, when
she spoke cheerfully, not as authors are believed to speak--
‘In measured pompous tones,’--
but like a dear matronly dame, who had especial care and tenderness
towards young women. It is impossible to remember how it occurred, but
in reference to some observation I had made she turned briskly round
and exclaimed, ‘Controversy hardens the heart, and sours the temper:
never dispute with your husband, young lady; tell him what you think,
and leave it to time to fructify.’”