Frances (Appleton) Longfellow to Emmeline (Austin) Wadsworth, 28 January 1846
Manuscript letter
Cambridge Jan 28th 1846
You can well imagine what a blessed relief to our anxious minds was your last letter, my precious Emmeline. We do most heartily rejoice with you on the happy change it announced. Pray give my warmest congratulations, also, to your sweet sister, who must have been indeed an angel of mercy to you at such a time. I can well believe her all you describe her, - her face is prophetic enough for that. You know I was always much drawn to her, and after the interval of so many years, it was a great delight to me to recognise her by your side as the same lovely & loveable creature, - perhaps more beautiful than formerly. I could not repress a sigh of envy [crossed out: that] for such a sister, but rejoiced from my heart that you had gained such an one. It was a very beautiful tableau – your aged father leaning upon his cane so earnestly, [p. 2] with the look of strong content with which an old man must place a treasure he is leaving within safe keeping, - & the sister on the other side so absorbed in her brother’s joy – but where am I wandering. I have ever before my [crossed out: scenes] eyes that scene, the last they have viewed, except my own family picture. I have not been into town since that day, and only delayed writing from foolishly waiting to hear from you first. If I had supposed Sam would have been so negligent, I should certainly have sent you a weekly bulletin of your father, & now much reproach myself that I did not do so.
I found the excitement of the 1st did me no injury, & I have continued since perfectly well, gradually gaining my usual strength. My little darling has, if possible, wound himself more thoroughly into all the fibres of my heart than Charlie did at his age, - he is a still quieter & happier baby, laughing and cooing deliciously, and I am not oppressed by as much anxiety as one’s first experience in these fragilities produces. Taking care of him at night, also, seems to bind him closer to me. Charlie has recovered his roses again, & is [p. 3] as busy as a bee if not to as much purpose. Never did lover long for a gracious word more ardently than I do for any word from his little tongue, but, although he understand every thing we say, he will not utter any thing but his own peculiar dialect. We think of going into town next week. Henry is impatient for a little change from his walk to the P. Office & back again, & Aunt Martha, has, I think, a secret desire, tho piously concealed, for some species of dissipation besides what our Lyceum furnishes! She is a devout listener to Dr Gray twice a week as it is. I am hoping, dearest, you will soon return to us now -; when once the tide changes the ri[se] is generally rapid, & I greatly long to look upon your face again, rarely hidden from me so long. I fervently trust all your other moons will be the brighter that the lune de miel has been so sadly overcast. A statement of Wadsworth’s illness has been in several of the papers, & all your friends, Harriet tells me, have been greatly troubled. If “a touch of nature makes the whole world kin” – how much more a sorrow like this. It is almost a consolation for enduring them to find out of what warm stuff human hearts are made.
I had a letter from Mary by the steamer containing [p. 4 bottom] no especial news, but many blessings & warm wishes for you. Mac wrote also they were present in spirit even to the procession to the cars. They were in pleasant lodgings in London, daily expecting the event, which we must now, provokingly, wait so long to know safely over. I wish I had time for a better scrawl than this, but my days are so absorbed by the nursery, for the care of two babies is too much for Ann alone, & my evenings are devoted to reading aloud, so [p. 4 top] that I can rarely snatch a moment of leisure. Mr Whipple, the brilliant young essayist, with eyes fearfully developed by the organ of language, has been drinking tea with us, & has now drawn off my audience to hear him lecture, or I should not have been able to accomplish this. Dickens’ laughable & pathetic ‘Cricket on the Hearth’ has been a kind of entre met to Carlyle’s Cromwell which we are wading stur[p. 1 cross] dily through, with some yawns but with more interest in than sympathy, if you comprehend the distinction. With my pacific tendencies civil wars are not the most agreeable of thought, especially when rather exulted in by the historian, who greatly scorns the “universal rose water philanthropy” of the present day. Tom had a beautiful note from Florence Nightingale by the last steamer – all about Henry’s poems, but that did not alone make it beautiful in my eyes. I liked the freshness of her thoughts & the simple expression of them.
Boston is in a great effervescence of gaiety – Assemblies flourishing & an attempt to make the last a Fancy ball which I suppose will fail. Anna Lawrence is married with a hundred presents, &c and every body else is going to be, but I wont impose upon you second hand gossip. Give our kindest regards to your poor invalid & tell Elisabeth with my love that I shall never cease regretting losing her visit here so completely – I had such a heart full to talk out to her about you, for I feel as if nobody knew your worth as I do, & I am magnanimous enough to love that others should, if possible, love you as I do. With much love from Henry & Aunt M –
ever thine Fanny L.
ADDRESSED: MRS WM W. WADSWORTH. / GENESEO. / N.Y.
POSTMARK: CAMBRIDGE / JAN 29 / MS.
Archives Number: 1011/002.001-016#002
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