2 April 1785

There is a far-away look in her eye as Mrs. Piozzi prepares to board a boat headed for Rocca Sorrentina. Her husband will return to Austria and then travel to England, where he will sing and teach.

Stalwart English woman that she is, Hester looks ever forward, never back.

11March 1785

Il Mio Piu Caro Moglie,

Lady Whitby has written me of our great loss. I understand you wish me to stay where I am, singing and teaching as though I had not experienced the same loss that you, my Love, now face. I want to assure you that I am suffering as deeply as you, Mia Moglie. There is no point to suffering alone when we can heal together. Marchesi happens to bein Salzburgand has agreed to come to Vienna. He will step in for me until such time as it is sensible for me to return to my work. I will be on the first coach after his arrival in Vienna and will soon join you at theVilla Anglaise. Know, my Dearest, ti amo l'inverno e la primavera.

I will see you in just a few days.

Your Adoring and Devoted Husband,

Gabriel

5 March 1785

Dear Mr. Piozzi,

I fear there is no way to begin this missive that would not simply delay the horrible sadness it is meant to convey. I fear I must offer my condolences on the loss of your wife's pregnancy. I fear the worst we all feared came to pass less than 24 hours after your departure for Vienna. Hester started that next day well, rising with the sun and breaking her fast with Lord Whitby before this old woman had even risen from her sleep. Lord Geoffrey tells me that there was no sign of discomfort or ill omen when he shared the morning meal that day with Hester. She felt well enough to take the morning sun in my garden, reading as she did so from one of those novels she loves so very well. By midday, when I arose, she was not looking well and complained of indigestion which soon turned to pains wicked enough to fold the lady in two. We sent for the dottore, who arrived with great haste. Still, he was too late. By the time, he arrived, Hester had birthed the child, dead, of course.

I can assure you that Hester is now resting comfortably. The doctor offered her laudunum, which she refused, saying she wanted to keep her wits even through her pain and grief. A wise choice, if you ask me. There was never a moment when it seemed we might lose your dear wife. She was strong throughout this ghastly ordeal. Of course, I remember this is not Hester's first loss of a child. Still, it is very hard on her. Doctor says there should be no more attempts at growing your family. I imagine he will want to speak with you when you arrive.

Hester asked me to tell you not to leave Vienna until your work there is done. She insists you must stay and sing and teach and carry on as if nothing has happened. This is, of course, absurd. Mr. Piozzi. Your wife needs to see you post haste. She simply must face her worst fears about teh affect this loss will have on you and, by extension, your young marriage. Hester has not said she fears your reaction to the loss, but I know from many years experience that every woman fears the loss of her husband's devotion. You must come to our Villa Anglaise as soon as you can be freed of your professional responsibilities so that you can reassure Hester that nothing between you will change. You love her now as you always have. Of that, there can be no doubt.

Please write to your wife to let her know of your plans. You will be in my thoughts, Mr. Piozzi. I'll see to Hester until you can be at her side.

Most Sincerely,

Lady Agnes Whitby

24 April 1783

Haven, France

Dear Jane,

Thank you for sharing your "scribblings" with me. Isn't it sad that a woman's writing, her hard labor, is referred to thus whilst a man's is thought of as the product of his life's calling? Oh, I too refer to my writing as you have yours. You are not alone in denigrating your talent and your industry.

I have completed the pages you sent me and want you to know I am delighted. My comments on what you have written are in the margins of the manuscript itself. It is so good to read such fine work from a young woman I have known most of her life. What I find surprising is that I did not know before now that you write. Is this a new pursuit or have I been completely blind to what you do? Did you intentionally hide your projects, as I once did. Are you aware that I first tried to publish under a male nom de plume? I used to hide my writings in the back of mywardrobe and was thoroughly mortified when anyone came upon me when engrossed in my own "scribbling." It was not until Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale saw fit to comment on my prose, and to share it with others of their literary class, that I came to realize that I what I create, the stories I weave, are worthy of attention.

I hope that this note from me will encourage you as much as Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale encouraged my younger, less experienced, self. Please do not give up your work, dear one. Write as though God himself has told you to do so. It is your calling. Of that, I am sure.

You asked how much longer I will be in France. I have not yet made any plans to leave and expect to stay here in Boudreaux for some time yet to come. My friend, Lorsagne, is a marvelous hostess to many artists, musicians and writers. One never wants for stimulation or conversation here. All I need do is walk out the door of my guest house and wander the gardens here until I come upon some other wandering guest of the Chatelaine. I was lucky today; I met up with the lady herself and was able to enjoy an hour or more of delightful communion with one who knows much about many things.

I do hope this letter finds you in good spirits and better health. My best to your mother and father. Please kiss my own sisters, should you meet them in town. Most importantly, write some more. Feel free to send along for my comments.

Your Supportive Friend,

Miss Frances Burney

Fanny Burney and Lorsagne de Sade, The Haven

19 February 1785

Dear Miss Chase

I write this note in some haste as I prepare to leave Rocca Sorrentina with Gabriel. He has persuaded me that, given the irregular presence of the good doctor on the island that it would be safer for me to continue this pregnancy on the mainland, closer to a qualified doctor. Your help has been a great comfort to me, but even you worried that my health and that of my unborn child might depend upon the availability of a physician. I hope you will accept the small token of my gratitude and esteem enclosed in this parcel.

Gabriel is to perform next Month in Vienna. I will not travel that far with him. He will leave me in Rome. From there, I will travel a short distance to the home of my dear friend, Lady Agnes Whitby, in Tivoli. Lady Agnes has a physician in her fulltime employ. There, I will enjoy the remainder ofthe carefree months before my laying in. You will be pleased, I think, to hear that that Gabriel has cleared his schedule to be with me for the whole of June, and as much of July as seems necessary. My daughter will be joining me in late April and has no plan to leave my side before September. I will be well cared for.

I have spoken with with the kind professor and with Lady Sere. They have agreed to make space for my happy family when we are ready to return to the serenity of island life. I look forward to seeing you then.

Wishing you all the best,

Mrs. Hester Piozzi

17 January 1785

Mrs. Piozzi commiserates with the captive birds in the rotunda of the Villa Vesuvia.

Dear Miss Chase,

The appointed date has come and gone and it was with no remaining doubt whatsoever that I informed my husband, Mr. Piozzi, ofmy great news. Gabriel was present on Rocca Sorrentina for just a few daysand has now departed for work abroad. He will be in France for some weeks which will be followed by a brief trip to England. How I wish I could accompany him on his journey, but that seems to still be inadvisable as the symptoms of early pregnancy are still with me.

Which brings me to the point of this letter -- well one of the points. I was wondering if you might have any recommendation for swelling in my hands and feet which seems to go beyond the normal addition to her girth any expectant mother can, well, expect. This swelling sometimes combines with the usual indigestion to make it quite impossible for me to function as I would like on a daily basis. I fear I am becoming quite the recluse. It is my hope that you know of a remedy.

Secondly, I am wondering of I might meet with you once again in your other capacity. I could use some guidance with regard to a private matter concerning my daughter who remains in England.

I do hope all is well with you and yours.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Hester Piozzi

9 January 1785

The Haven, France

My Dearest Sister Hetty,

It breaks my heart to read the news of the great man's passing. I shall miss him for the rest of my days!As I write these words, I hear him chuckling. "But of course you will miss me," he says. I'm not the sort of man one forgets easily. I promise to haunt you for as long as haunting seems called for." This is said in that lilting and teasing tone of his, the tone that says, " You will move on, Fanny, when you are ready," and at the same time says, " You won't know who to be without me, my girl, so you'd better not move on at all!" For myself, I think the second statement to contains the purer truth. Dr. Johnson is, to great degree, the person who taught me who I am meant to be. He is certainly the one who reminded me most frequently and most succinctly when I have not lived up to my own potential. I do not believe there will ever be a day in my life when he is not in my thoughts and heart.

As to other news, I arrived safely in France some days before Christmas. Having delivered father's manuscript to Monsignor Aguillard, I traveled on to The Haven, home of my friend Lorsagne de Sade. In her lovely home, I passed a peaceful Christmas holiday and am soon to move into one of her guest houses, where I plan to stay for some months at least. As you know, there is writing to be done and, with Mother Dear, father's wife, ensconced at St. Martin's Street, I think I will be more productive here in France. Lorsagne is a good and supportive friend who recognizes the need of artists and writers and composers for congenial company alternated with frequent bits of serene solitude. Here at The Haven, she offers both. Hers is a home frequented by scholars of all ilk, particularly writers and poets, painters and composers. There are entertaining (and often challenging) conversations to overhear and fine meals to be enjoyed in sophisticated company. There is also the privacy of my own rooms to which I retreat when company overwhelms or work beckons.

Today, I am traveling in Provence, shopping for articles I will need during my extended stay on the continent. Oh, Hetty, you would love the shops here! There is champagne to be had at every seamstress', and chocolates in the milliners'! Yesterday, I selected a wonderful chair for my desk at Lorsagne's. It will be delivered before I return there myself and I so look forward to using it. The needlework of the upholstery is detailed and lovely. The colors are sublime.

I believe my carriage has arrived to take me to another shop. Dare I hope for petite fours?

Give my best to all! You are missed my beloved sister. We shall be together soon.

Your Adoring Sister,

Fanny

3 January 1785

Rocca Sorrentina

I find myself deliriously happy in the presence of the maestro of my heart, el divo Gabriel, my husband! Always a generous and gentle man, since learning of my blessed state, Gabriel dotes. Today he brought my tea and biscuits in bed, insisting that my feet not touch the ground until he had seen to the most basic needs of mother and child. We spent the day in grand isolation, reading to one another from Holcroft and Chaucer, venturing out late in the afternoon when most villagers were still at their afternoon naps. Near the harbor, we visited the island's one music store. The instruments there were impressive and we are considering the purchase of a clavichord. Gabriel serenaded me as we shopped. We walked to the end of a pier and arrived in time to observe the sunset, myself folded into my husband's arms. If I had known twenty years ago that love could be as it is with Gabriel, I'd have demanded more than that for which I settled. Better late than not at all, I suppose.