Cullenstown, Jan. 14, 1880
I am afraid we are in hot water over the Lufton Papers. My mother, who is now with us, has just discovered that you have them. She is much distressed that we should have let them go out of the house, – so much distressed that I think you had better send them back, if you have got all the information you want about Chalfont. She talks of destroying them.
As I suspected, she did know something. After beating about the bush for a while she told me what it was. It is not much, – only what she had from my father ages ago, and she has a most happy faculty for forgetting anything she doesn’t care to remember.
Lufton was killed in a duel. It was all hushed up. In my mother’s words: ‘The inquest said it was an accident, but your grandfather was there and he said it was sheer murder. Your uncle fired wide, but the other man, who was drunk and very angry, did not, which shocked everybody very much. Your grandfather had to be very careful what he said at the inquest.’
This last sentence is, I imagine, my Mama’s euphemism for perjury! But she doesn’t worry on Grandpapa’s account. Wherever he is now, they can’t get him for it.
It is the man who did it (she swears she never knew who he was) or his children, that she thinks of. Some of them may be living still and might be distressed if this story got out.
Family skeletons!
I think she is making a fuss out of nothing, but perhaps you had better send those papers back.
Yours ever,
JIM
Brailsford, Jan. 18, 1880
I am writing on behalf of poor Harnish, who has had a severe set-back, a bad haemorrhage a couple of days ago, which has completely knocked him up. He does not wish Lady Emily to know, as it might frighten her, and he is sure that it is nothing and that he will soon pick up. I hope he is right; the doctor seems to be fairly optimistic. But I wish some of the family were here. The only relative in England is young Chalfont, at Eton. I have written to let him know, and to the Amershams, in Vienna, of course.
He wants me to tell you that we are returning the Lufton Papers, and have enclosed with this a letter we found, not from Miles Lufton, but from his brother George, which confirms Lady Cullen’s story. We found it before we had finished reading the memoir so we knew what the end would be; and, as the ‘other man’ concerned is clearly identified, there is some reason for caution. We have looked that family up in Burke, and find that he died in 1846, but his grandson still owns the Gloucestershire property. These things are better forgotten.
I will let you know how Harnish goes on.
With kindest regards,
Yours very sincerely,
CHARLES CUNNINGHAM
The Parsonage, Great Bramfield, Glos.
July 12, 1818
I am in receipt of your lordship’s letter of the 10th inst. and will do my best to answer your questions.
As to the circumstances of my brother’s death, I think this question sufficiently answered by the findings of the Coroner’s Jury. He died by misadventure, being accidentally shot by our cousin, Mr. Edward Chadwick, of Great Bramfield Park. Evidence was given by Mr. Charles Pinney, of Stokehampton, and by my brother-in-law, Sir James Cullen, who were both witnesses of the melancholy event. All four were shooting at rabbits in a disused quarry, locally called Ribstone Pit, having gone there very early one morning for the purpose. That they used pistols has occasioned, I believe, some comment, but it is not uncommon for gentlemen to amuse themselves at this kind of sport. Both Sir James and Mr. Pinney stated that my brother stepped unexpectedly into range when Mr. Chadwick happened to be firing. He was hit in the lungs and died within an hour.
As to his state and final moments, I was present at the end and will give as full an account as I can. I was still abed when a message was brought to me that there had been an accident. I hastened with the messenger, a labourer called Howes, to Ribstone Pit. Sir James was, by then, gone off to seek a surgeon; the bleeding was so profuse that they dared not aggravate it by moving my brother until skilled assistance should arrive. I found him supported in his cousin’s arms; Mr. Chadwick, unable to believe that he was dying, repeatedly exhorted him to say that it was nothing, and that he was not really hurt.
Poor Miles, upon perceiving me, gasped out that it was ‘not Ned’s fault’ and that I must ‘tell them so’. After that he said nothing collected. His mind seemed to wander. He murmured something which I could not catch; it sounded like: ‘Missed the venture and hit Ahab.’ I suppose that he was trying to explain the accident. I asked him if he was comfortable or if he would prefer to be moved to the nearest cottage. He replied: No. He should do very well among the chimney sweepers. Perceiving that the awful moment was fast approaching, I began to repeat the prayer for dying persons, constantly interrupted by the sobs of Mr. Chadwick; Mr. Pinney and Howes kneeling beside us. My brother cut me short with a whisper that I should ‘Pray for the helpless – pray for all sorts and conditions’ – I accordingly began that prayer but had got no further than all who profess and call themselves Christians when he broke in again, to ask for Ridding, a farmer upon the Bramfield property. ‘Here are Bob, Ned and I, but there should be four of us, you know. Where is Harry?’ With that he fixed his eyes earnestly upon the labourer Howes. I took no notice and continued the prayer. At the words the bond of peace, he cried out suddenly, in a strong voice: Begone! He fell into a strange, wild fit of laughter, which was strangled by a gush of blood, and all was over.
He is buried beside our mother, in Bramfield churchyard.
It is very kind of your lordship to enquire so particularly after my father. He is so much shaken by these dreadful events that I doubt if he will ever again be equal to his parish duties. While he lives I can remain here, acting as his curate. At his death I am certain that the living will be presented elsewhere, and I do not know where I can expect preferment, unless I may depend upon your lordship’s continued interest in our family.
As regards the property in Wiltshire, it is not in my power to give any precise information, but I believe that it is to be sold to the present tenant. I may say that the whole of my brother’s property goes to my sister Susan, in a Will executed by him this Spring. I will not criticise his action in thus passing over the claims of other relatives. My sister has chosen to remove from Bramfield and has gone to Ireland.
Your lordship’s final question leaves me completely at a loss. I know nothing of my brother’s dreams. If he received some warning of his end, I never heard of it. As to the particular dream which he communicated to your lordship, – I cannot see any connection between this sad fatality and my sister-in-law, formerly Miss Maria Cotman, now Mrs. Poole, and resident in Jamaica.
I have the honour to be
Your lordship’s obliged, humble
and obedient servant,
GEORGE LUFTON