In 2020 Australian author Kate Grenville published A Room Made of Leaves, a fictionalised memoir of Elizabeth Macarthur. I enjoyed that novel and became very interested in Mrs Macarthur, as her life and contributions to early settlement life in Sydney were overshadowed by her husband John. He was a mercurial man, often regarded as the 'father of Australian wool', who put a great strain on his family through his long absences and difficult temperament.
The Elizabeth Macarthur we come to know through her correspondence is a devoted mother and grandmother, keen botanist, and a shrewd business woman. Each letter is prefaced with a commentary from Grenville, often providing the context for writing or giving insight into how the letter related to Grenville's novel.
It must have been so daunting for young newlywed Elizabeth to contemplate moving from England and all she had known, to the far side of the world. In a letter to her mother dated 8 Oct 1789, she writes about how she tries to soften the blow of the great distance, telling her mother "...it is much the same, whether I am two hundred or more than many thousand miles apart from you."
Initially I was perplexed by this collection, preferring the fictional Mrs Macarthur to the one found in these letters. But as I read, I became more and more fascinated by both the woman and the letters themselves. The correspondence back and forth from England was the lifeblood of the community, read by the intended recipient and passed around to family and friends to give news of the colonies or homeland. As such, Grenville argues these letters may be a form of fiction too, wherein Elizabeth didn't share her true self, but a version of herself she chose to present.
Many of Elizabeth's letters detail the ships which carried correspondence back and forth - "I hope you will have received my letter, dated August 1790, which I sent by the Scarborough transport, by way of China" - or the person the letter has been entrusted to see safely delivered. Oftentimes letters are in response to ones received many months previously, or written in haste when a ship announces a sudden departure.
While I enjoyed reading many of these letters, it is her ones to her sons Edward and John which carry the most weight. In these letters she gossips about mutual acquaintances but also tells of their father's increasing mental illness. I knew John Macarthur was ill-tempered, but I didn't realise he suffered from debilitating depression. It would have been such a challenge for Elizabeth, especially as her husband worsens, when mental health was so misunderstood.
In a letter to her son John on 18 Dec 1826 she writes "Your dear father is gone to bed not in good spirits.... He is suffering again from one of those fits of despondency which are sure to succeed extraordinary exertion and over-excitement." The day before she had written to her son Edward, "You will observe from my letter to John that your dear father has had a severe attack of his old tormenting complaint, with all the accustoming attendants of despondency and low spiritless". As Elizabeth copes with her husband's 'gloomy apprehensions', the family suffer a tragedy when their son John dies in April 1831. Elizabeth had not seen him since he was a young child, sent back to England for schooling. The grief at this loss is evident in her letters and is only magnified by her husband's volatility.
I enjoyed reading this collection, especially having read Grenville's novel A Room Made of Leaves. It is wonderful to hear about Elizabeth's life in her own words.