[Undated but delivered on the night before Her Grace’s nephew’s wedding to Miss Theodora Cavendish in July 1786]
Dear Jack,
I wanted to write you this letter about my thoughts on this the eve of your marriage so that you may keep it always. Know that, even as you embark on this the next chapter in your life as a married man, with all the responsibilities and joys that entails, and in the not too distant future, adding to that of being a father to your own family, you never lose the love and worry of your mother. For that is what I have essentially been to you since your own dear parents were taken from you at such a young age.
I have always strived to do my best for you and to show you the love and protection of a mother, even when still in my teens I had no real idea of what it was to be one. But, do you know, giving birth to my first son, and with every subsequent birth, I am still learning what it is to be a parent. I have always thought of you as mine own and included you in that number.
For you are, in many ways, my first-born, even if I did not give birth to you. I have loved you, protected you, given you shelter and guidance, and worried over you, and you have never disappointed me, or any member of our family. I am so proud of you, of the boy you were, and of the man you have become.
You have a great capacity for compassion and for love. And as a fellow musician, I can hear those feelings conveyed in your compositions. It is not surprising that your pieces often move your audience to tears. Those feelings are not only revealed in your music, but in how you treat others.
You are the greatest friend Harry could ever wish for, and you are as close as brothers could ever be. I know his parents, and his brother, are so thankful that you came into Harry’s life when you did, for I do not doubt they feared he would never make friends, such is his self-absorbed and melancholy disposition. But given his affliction, that is understandable, is it not? Still, you have been a most loyal friend and his champion, and I greatly admire you for it.
And as we are speaking of self-absorption, I must ask your forgiveness for my own distraction. I have the excuse of pregnancy and the birth of eight children in ten years, as well as the responsibilities that are attached to my position as wife and as duchess to your Uncle Roxton. But that does not make me any less aware that upon my marriage I let slip my mothering duties where you were concerned and allowed you to drift along in Harry’s company, the two of you with intermittent supervision, particularly in the transition period between the death of M’sieur le Duc and when your Uncle Roxton became duke.
I hope you know that I was and I am here for you, always.
You have from time to time asked for my advice, and I hope I have always given you sound counsel. I hope too that you will continue to seek me out when you require the opinion of someone who is detached from your household but who will always provide you with honest opinions within a framework of love and guidance. You are your own man and I respect that. But even men are still worried about by their parents, particularly their mothers, who will always see them as their little boys. So do forgive me if upon occasion I wish to receive a hug and a kiss from my eldest boy. I do not think I will ever not want that, therefore you must show your dear Aunt Deb forbearance. I trust you will hug and kiss your children long into their adulthood, too.
I am so proud of you, Jack. And I say without reservation that your parents, particularly your father, who was the most wonderful brother a sister could have, loved you beyond words, as I do. I see a lot of your father in you, and I do not mean just his musical talent. He, too, had a great capacity for understanding and love. It has always been my great privilege to be able to watch over you, to love you, to see you become your own man, and a gentleman my dear brother Otto, your father, would have been so proud to call son.
I know you will make Teddy a wonderful husband, that you will be a loving father, and that you both will live a happy and fulfilling life. If I can offer you one piece of advice about marriage… At the end of the day, when candles are snuffed and you are alone together, it is as if only the two of you exist in the world, and that is as it should be. Be kind and loving with one another; nothing else truly matters.
All a mother’s love,
Aunt Deb