File:Frances (Appleton) Longfellow to Emmeline (Austin) Wadsworth, 17 August 1847 (cca4dd3c-2900-48fe-9cce-b13f0d11273a).jpg

Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1011/002.001-017#020

Oak Grove. August 17. ’47
Poor, darling, little Emmelina, how I wish I had you within arms reach this very moment. How I would kiss you & pet you, “uttering words of endearment where words of comfort availed not” to quote from my husband’s poem. It grieves me to the heart [crossed out: & yet] to have you write so sadly, & yet, so strangely are those hearts constituted, I love to listen to your plaints, since they must come, & feel your head upon my shoulder, & know you will still give me your weakness (as you call it) rather than your strength. You must have much, very much to depress & exhaust you without the physical trial which is so wearing, but my only hope is you will grow acclimated to care (if one ever can to such a Siberia) A melancholy hope is this to be sure, & “oh that I could utter the thoughts that arise in me” when I contemplate the gulf between your destiny & mine, not that one is safer, after all, than another, for what do we know of the secret diseases which may be lurking, like the tiger in the jungle, ready to spring forth at God’s appointed time, & destroy our happiness. If we can keep our souls free from them that is the best we can promise ourselves in this world of mysteries & unfinished destinies, where we are too apt to examine the wrong side of the tapestry, with its harsh [p. 2] colors & ragged ends, forgetting that God & the angels gaze only at the perfect whole that is growing & brightening on the true surface.
We had another noble sermon from Dr Nichols last Sunday which I wish you could have heard, for it is hopeless to glean pearls from the affluence of truth & wisdom with which he curricles every discourse. There is always enough thought for a dozen sermons, & one is in despair that, while dwelling upon one suggestion, you are losing so many more. A few pithy sentences about war were admirable, something to this effect – that – “actions in the aggregate mass & in the individual instance as the deep blue ocean is colorless in the drop, - thus what would be murder, & a crime & an atrocity in the secret forest, committed by one man, becomes transformed to glory when thousands are the victims upon the open plain – if there is only suffering enough!
There were some encouraging words upon trusting in the affections of our fellow-men. He said “be worthy & every man you meet is your friend in his innermost being - &c
The sea mist is driving by like smoke, & Henry is hesitating between bowling & billiards, for one can no more write or read here than at sea, while I rejoice in the dull day to secure a little leisure to chat with you. I cannot remember whether I wrote you or not of our long-desired, & most welcome, news from St Kitts, which reached me here not very long since. [p. 3] In case I did not I will send it now. The Governor & family arrived safely, after a very pleasant, quiet voyage of six weeks, “the Bay of Biscay as smooth as glass,” & the Captain civil & obliging. They were all well & charmed with their tropical island thus far. Noble mountains rose before the drawing-rooms windows, & luscious fruits gleamed from the garden below, - the society was promising & Mary was in anticipation of her first dinner & reception. The negroes were independant [sic] & merry, & called her “your Excellency-“ Robert had two Judgeships to bestow by way of beginning his duties & they were fairly afloat in their new dignities. I long for further details, & she sent some newspapers describing their arrival &c, which have not yet appeared. I trust another letter will soon come. She thought the climate not warmer than ours in summer, tempered by the sea-breeze, but I fear such long continuance of heat will be felt by her before winter. She was desiring some pretty muslins as everything there is dear & scarce. Our visit here closes with this week much to my regret. We leave on Saturday with Mary Greenleaf, but think of passing Sunday at Nahant, & if we can find rooms, may remain there fairly into September, as I dread a return to Cambridge for the children, - & shall be glad to escape commencement myself. Henry can pass every other day & every night with us – so that it is tempting, altho’ I prefer the quiet of this place very much. We have had the Princes from Lowell, very nice, English people - & have now quite a gay party from Boston I believe. A young German who plays deliciously, & a Mrs Buell from Roxbury with a very rich & reedy contralto voice; - a very pretty woman, who in the [p. 4] first circles, would make a sensation by her beauty & tasteful dressing, but has, alas, the ‘peacock voice’ of underbred phrases &c, & was thought, by the gossiping Mrs Dewey, to be no better than she should be. She has the sobering name of Coffin & a husband with her, & I imagine is only a little hoydenish. With a choice company (for the Hotel cannot entertain more than 30) this would be a perfect watering place, but it is too little known as yet to attract the nicest kind of people, but we have had many amusing specimens – Many from Worcester – very well-bred people, very well dressed. A very pretty, modest Mrs Chapin who showed Henry ‘Excelsior’ illustrate in pencil by a friend, like Gay’s Elegy. It was beautifully bound, & the designs well meant & well finished, which is the best I can say of it! We had a disastrous day in Portland last week. We went in to return calls & were arrested in the midst by a cry of fire, which the coachman discovering to come from a ropewalk adjacent to Marianne Longfellow’s house, we drove thither with all speed to her rescue, - but found the whole street in flames, & one side of it vanished with fearful rapidity. She was away from home, & met her terrified children running bareheaded to meet her. The house was entirely destroyed, but she saved all her silver & furniture & many little knicknacks [sic] from the tables, pocketed by gentlemen friends, while all her clothing & childrens has gone – tho’ she believes stolen as much as burnt. She is established at her mother’s, who surrenders two fine drawing-rooms to her, having a large house in the style of ours, & has really made an agreeable change. Stephen was absent, so she is busy enough in hunting up her stray goods. We had a charming excursion to the Cape lately, which I kept for you till I found I must be resigned to give you up. Thro’ very pretty country [p. 5] we drove to the Bowery, so called from people making merry formerly in a scant grove of trees near a public house, thence to the outer lights, where, upon the wildest spur of rocks you can imagine, the fog-bell hangs, sending forth its doleful warning to the mariner. We returned to Cape Cottage to dine, being promised a chowder by our hotel company, who had all gone there to fish, but they deserted us for the most part, & we had the most dilatory of dinners in the drollest little cottage à la Tudor, with no sleeping rooms whatever, & a limping damsel in flounces, with pink & silver bows in her hair, waiting upon us, & afterwards sitting in the drawing room as proof & token that she was guest & not servant – help only for the nonce to oblige strangers. The hotel was burned down & this is only a temporary affair, very pretty what there is of it – but it is very like cottage son the stage – all frontispiece. I had a very quaint letter from Jewett the other day. He has been at Lake Superior - & Macinac – greatly disturbed to find Mrs Schoolcraft “wearing a bustle” as he expresses it, but delighted with every thing else, & in as original a way as ever. Tom has been at Newport – I am hoping he may accompany us to Nahant – I was grieved to hear of poor Anna Rotch’s suffering, partly on her own account & partly on Mrs Blake’s, who was so distressed at Elisabeth Boott’s agonies she shrank from witnessing at another accouchement so prolonged. Mrs Laurence spoke with great anxiety of Anna, & from what she said, I should infer some malformation in the spine, or somewhere, which made her feel peculiarly troubled about her, &, as I think, unwilling to try the [p. 6] Ether, not being wholly convinced in regard to it. I marvel, however, they could see such suffering without resorting to it at last. Have no fears, beloved, such cares are very, very rare – in her long experience Mrs Blake told me no one had ever died in her hands, & she had only once or twice seen such difficulty - & more than 200 children had been rocked upon her knees – I am sure you will have such joy in your child if it lives & is well, that the present weariness & the momentary suffering will be as nothing in remembrance, & you will believe such a treasure cannot be too dearly paid for. Vattemare was here, the other day, all a-glow with his enthusiasm for his great scheme, which drives him like the wandering Jew from country to country, & deprives him, he says of all domestic enjoyment, but he considers himself only the humble machine of a great Will - & obeys unmurmuringly his destiny –
I am weary with writing so much after a famous bout of bowling last night, when I got one double spare & 2 or 3 single ones! – so must hurriedly close. with Henry’s love, & mine to Lizzy & Wm –
Ever truly & devotedly thine

• Keywords: correspondence; long archives; frances e. a. longfellow papers (long 20257); frances elizabeth (appleton) longfellow; people; document; subject; portland; me; united states; places; social life; Correspondence (1011/002); (LONG-SeriesName); Letters from Frances Longfellow (1011/002.001); (LONG-SubseriesName); 1847 (1011/002.001-017); (LONG-FileUnitName)