:/itiiV-'iii*-t/-^in»t'; 'in':. .;i-. .": , A3'B3S BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Henrg W. Sage X891 Am^^a^ ^Ji/m Date Due MAS- v^'igi? _e©r:r|=^e-4i# Cornell University Library PR 5631.A3B35 Thackeray's letters to an American famll 3 1924 013 562 727 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924013562727 THACKERAY'S LETTERS TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY THACKERAY'S LETTERS TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY LUCY W. BAXTER AND ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY THACKERAY THE BROWN HOUSE NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1904 3) Copyright, 1903, 1904, by The Century Co. The writings and drawings by IV . M. Thackeray in this volume appear with the permission of Smith, "Elder & Co. the owners of the Copyright Published O£tober, 1904 ,M , ^ ?. LV - o Co D. B. Updike, The Merry mount Press, Boston CONTENTS INTRODUCTION 1 LETTERS TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY I7 LETTERS TO MISS LIBBY STRONG 181 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS SKETCHES OF PAGES OF VARIOUS PERIODS, FOR A FANCY-BALL COSTUME 4, 5 CARICATURES OF LONGFELLOW, GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS AND "UNCLE TOM " 7 FACSIMILE OF A LETTER TO MRS. BAXTER POSTMARKED BOSTON, DECEMBER 30, 1852 17 THE CLARENDON HOTEL, THACKERAY 's HOME IN NEW YORK CITY . 20 FACSIMILE OF A PART OF A LETTER WRITTEN IN DECEMBER, l852 22 SKETCH OF A CUPID WITHIN THE ENVELOP OF A NOTE SENT FROM WASHINGTON, FEBRUARY I9, I853 31 FACSIMILE OF A PART OF LETTER FROM WASHINGTON, FEBRUARY I9, I853 35 FACSIMILE OF A PART OF THE LETTER ON PAGE 44 44 FACSIMILE OF THE VERSES SENT ON APRIL 15, 1853, TO MISS LUCY W. BAXTER 59, 60 SKETCHES OF A MEDIEVAL PAGE, FOR A FANCY-BALL COSTUME 84 Cviill ILLUSTRATIONS SKETCH FOR MISS SARAH BAXTER's BIRTH- DAY, REPRESENTING THE TWENTIETH MILESTONE ON THE ROAD OF LIFE, WITH THE ARTIST IN THE DISTANCE 99 FACSIMILE OF A PART OF LETTER OF DE- CEMBER 1 7, 1 853 io6 A PEN SKETCH AMONG THE BAXTER SOU- VENIRS OF THE NOVELIST 143 FACSIMILE OF A PORTION OF LETTER OF MAY 24, l86l 174 FACSIMILE OF SCROLL-LIKE POSTSCRIPT 184 FACSIMILE OF A NOTE TO MISS STRONG's FATHER, WRITTEN ON A VISITING- CARD 187 OTHELLO AND DESDEMONA, FROM A HITH- ERTO UNPUBLISHED DRAWING I92 THACKERAY'S LETTERS TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY INTRODUCTION IN the early days of November, 1852, my father, to his own great surprise, found him- self shaking hands with the great English nov- eli§l in the parlors of the Clarendon Hotel, New York. The reading public had been much in- terested and excited by the news that Thacke- ray was coming to America to deliver a course of leftures on the English humorists. We had talked of it eagerly at home, having but lately read "Esmond," and having discussed in a lively fashion, as was usual in our family circle, the merits and demerits of Lady CaStlewood, Bea- trix, and the young Harry. We had made plans for securing seats for the leftures, which were to be given under the auspices of the Mercan- tile Library Association, whose president at that time was Mr. Willard Felt. We had no idea of having any familiar intercourse with the famous author of ' ' Vanity Fair. ' ' Indeed , we should hav e been almost alarmed at so ambitious a sugges- tion. But a young Englishman and friend of Thack- eray, Mr. B M , of whom we had seen CO INTRODUCTION much during the preceding year, seeing the an- nouncement of Thackeray's arrival, urged my father to go with him to the Clarendon, and be presented to the famous author. To this my fa- ther strongly objefted, saying, what was very true, that neither as a hterary man nor other- wise had he claims on Mr. Thackeray's atten- tion. Mr. B M , however, was not to be denied, and thus, in this casual and unexpefted manner, was begun a friendship which la^ed, in spite of absence and separation, until the Chri^mas eve of 1863, when the great, kind heart was wholly stilled. Mr. Thackeray gave us, too, a claim to the warm interest of his mother and daughters. We had kind letters from Mrs. Carmichael Smythe, thanking us for receiving her son into our home circle; and with the daughters the bond was closer still. The younge^, Mrs. Leslie Stephen, and her husband, came to us, very naturally, when they were in America in 1868, making us feel that they counted us as old friends, al- though we were meeting for the firft time. Mrs. Ritchie is indeed a friend; and when, in 1892, INTRODUCTION I was in London, she gave me the true^l wel- come to her house at Wimbledon, and made me very happy by showing me that the recolledlion of her father's old afFe6tion for us was strong with her still. The entire simplicity and frankness of my fa- ther's accoSl, added to the warm expressions of intere§l from our English friend, seemed to at- tra6l Mr. Thackeray, and from the fir§l visit to the "Brown House," as he later always called it, he evidently felt at home among us. No doubt he was very homesick when he fir^l reached America, everything was so new and strange, and he had left, almo§l for the fir^l time, the mo- ther and daughters, so fondly loved, as his let- ters testify. He came to us whenever he could, with perfe6l freedom and informality. He begged to dine with us before the le6lures, which even at fir^t bored him greatly, and in the end be- came a real burden. The monotony of saying the same things over and over again, and the con- straint of being obliged to be ready at a given time, whether he felt in a talking mood or not, were very trying to him. He became greatly INTRODUCTION attached to my mother, whose quiet sympathy soothed him, and his place at her right hand, with the claret- pitcher ready for him, was an established arrangement before a le6lure. He would sometimes stop in the midi§l of the desul- tory conversation then in progress, and roll out in a deep voice, with an exaggerated accent, the opening sentences of the le6lure next to be de- livered, making us all laugh at his comic dis- ta§le for the performance. He did not like the lecture platform, and had it not been for the abundant shower of " American dollars," assur- ing the future of the much-loved daughters, he would doubtless have refused many of the in- vitations which came to him from all parts of the country. Indeed, his letters will show that he was often sorely tempted to throw up his engagements and run off to England by the next steamer. He entered with great interest into all our plans and amusements, and on one occasion, when my elde§l brother's co^ume for a juvenile fancy ball was under discussion, he took pen and paper as he sat chatting among us, and drew little [4] _-^^ % '^ ^ "^'"'^"^^ m\ ^"^ •J r y{ = -.i^rirrz-ir y - — — ^==:z: — — :—- - ? w S D h O U i-l < I u 2 < o a o 3 w en O 3 > o en W O o en M K U M >■ w u INTRODUCTION sketches of the proper dress for a page of va- rious periods, being well versed in all the de- tails belonging to each coSlume. He said that the quaint little figure with the big cufFs and broad brim to his hat was hke little melancholy Harry Esmond when the kind Lady Ca;§l;lewood firft saw him and smiled so sweetly in his grave face. When my brother, on the night of the ball, came down to display himself to the fam- ily circle, Mr. Thackeray was present. After the boy went away Mr. Thackeray said to my mo- ther: " Well,thatwas mo§l chara61:eri§licof Wylly." "In what way.?" asked my mother. "Why, did you not notice.? Wylly never once looked at himself in the mirror, but only at the dress, to see that it was quite corre6l." This showed his quick appreciation of charac- ter and observation, for my brother was always entirely without vanity or self-consciousness. After dinner Mr. Thackeray often sat chat- ting while my sifter was dressing for a ball to which he himself might be going. It was on one of these occasions that, turning over the leaves CO INTRODUCTION of "Pendennis" as it lay on the table beside him, he said, smiling, from time to time: " Yes, it is very like — it is certainly very like." "Like whom, Mr. Thackeray.?" said my mo- ther. "Oh, like me, to be sure ; Pendennis is very like me. "Surely not," objefted my mother, "for Pen- dennis was so weak ! " " Ah, well, Mrs. Baxter," he said, with a shrug of his great shoulders, and a comical look, "your humble servant is not very strong." An American ball-room amused him greatly. The bright, gay talk, the lively girls full of en- joyment, which they did not fear to show, made a contrail to the more conventional entertain- ments of London. My si§ler was at that time go- ing much into society — she was not yet twenty and had both wit and beauty. In his pifture of Ethel Newcome, as she holds a little court about her at one of the great London balls, Thackeray reproduces some impressions made by the New York girl. Some of Ethel's impatience for the disallusions of society, its spiteful comment and CO 25 Cents, filtered ocoortUcg lo Acl ot Congress In Llie year IS53, by 0. P. Putvau it Co., In Uie Clerk's Offii:o t UU'rlct Court for tlit SouUierg Dbtrict of Ncw-York, ^0' CARICATURES BY THACKERAY OF LONGFELLOW, GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS AND " UNCLE TOM" INTRODUCTION harsh criticism, might well be refleftions from discussions with my siSler in the Brown House library, where Mr. Thackeray passed many an hour talking of matters grave and gay. With December came the course of le61:ures in Boft on , and his fi r^ letters told us of the people he met there. One, no doubt, was Longfellow, whose tall figure, whittling charming notes to a fascinated little bird, he sketched on the cover of "Putnam's Magazine." This magazine was sent by my mother to Mr. Longfellow a short time before his death, and after the end came Miss Longfellow returned it. She wrote that it had much amused and gratified her father, and that the book had been lying on his table up to the la§t moment. Naturally it now has an added value. Another pen-and-ink drawing on the cover refers to Mr. George William Curtis, whom Mr. Thackeray, after reading his "Nile Notes," al- ways called the Howadje. He is drawn lying among cushions, with an Oriental dress and pipe. Above is a little vignette which refers to an article in the magazine, " Uncle Tomitudes." In one of INTRODUCTION his letters Mr. Thackeray speaks of meeting Mrs. Stowe and being pleasantly impressed by her looks and manner. When the return from Boston was at hand, my mother suggeSled to the younger members of the family that, should Mr. Thackeray appear during the day at Brown House, it were be§l not to ask him to dine. " I have not ju§t such a dinner as I like to give him," she said. Whatever was the deficiency, my mother had to overlook it, as the sequel proved. As she stood in the dining-room ju§t before the dinner-hour, giving some orders to the maid, a summons came from the front door. After it was opened, steps were heard coming steadily through the hall to the dining-room. As my mother turned in sur- prise to see who could be coming at so late an hour, there in the doorway stood the tall figure with kind eyes and silvery hair which had be- come so familiar to us. " Oh, Mrs. Baxter," he said, "let me show you what capital copies Crowe has made of the Bos- ton pi6lures." C8] INTRODUCTION In each hand he held an unframed oil sketch of Gilbert Stuart's portraits of General and Mrs. Washington, then, as now, in the BoSlon Mu- seum of Art. Mr. Eyre Crowe was Mr.Thacke- ray's private secretary, and had a good deal of ar- ti^ic ability. The pi61:ures were placed on chairs, examined and admired. Mr. Thackeray was greatly pleased, especially with the portrait of Washington. "Look at him," he said. "Does he not look as if he had juft said a good, stupid thing?" Then, turning to my mother, he said: "Now you will give me some dinner, won't you? The younger people were greatly delighted by my mother's discomfiture. I doubt if Mr. Thackeray discovered anything amiss in the dinner. He always laughed at our American idea of making a " feaSl " for a gue§l, saying that we did not underhand at all "ju§l to fetch a friend home to a leg of mutton." No one muft think, from the remark jui§l quoted, that Mr. Thackeray undervalued Wash- ington, or wished to hold him up to ridicule. On n9j INTRODUCTION the contrary, in later years letters show how grieved and hurt he was by the misconception in America as to a passage in "The Virginians" which roused the indignation of our thin-skinned people. He fully appreciated Washington's great qualities, often spoke warmly of him, but he did not consider him brilliant in conversation. An impartial examination of the portrait in question would possibly prove the remark to be not an unju^ one. With the New Year Mr. Thackeray started to fulfil his Southern engagements, and his let- ters brought us little sketches of the negroes, whose ways and sayings amused him greatly. From Washington he wrote to beg my father, mother, and siller to join him for a few days ; but an unfortunate accident at the gymnasium , which made me an invalid for a number of weeks, pre- vented the accomplishment of such a plan. One of his mo^ charming letters was sent to me after the accident. Before going to Charleston, he ran back to New York to give a le6lure for the benefit of the Sewing Society of the Unita- rian church, in which the mother of Mr. Felt C103 INTRODUCTION was much intere^ed. He wrote an introdu6lion, in the course of which he repeated Hood's poem, "The Bridge of Sighs." No one who heard him would easily forget the pathos of his voice in the verse: '"''Take her up tenderly. Lift her with care! Fashioned so slenderly, Toung, and so fair !" No more tender appreciation of distress could be found than that which always responded in the great author ( cynic as he has been called ) to any tale of trouble or want. His purse was constantly at the service of his friends, or often mere acquaintances, much to his own pecuniary detriment, and his glasses were dimmed when he spoke of the sorrows which day after day came to his knowledge. His liberality to those who served him was unfailing. After his return from the South, Mr. Thack- eray found there was to be a little celebration of my seventeenth birthday. There was to be mu- sic, dancing, and flowers, for what was called in those days a "small party." Mr. Thackeray INTRODUCTION made the occasion memorable by the verses he sent with some flowers. With them came also the quaint little rhymed note, striking a lighter key. The verses have always been very precious to me, but the firSl form ( which will be found in facsimile on pages 59 and 60 } I think more at- tra6live than the shorter lines used in the pub- lished poem. The month of May carried Mr. Thackeray back to England, and he was not again in America until 1855. The second course of le6lures, on " The Four Georges," was not, I think, as well received in America as that on "The English Humorists." He speaks of this in one of his later letters, when he mentions that the le6lures were much more popular in England than in "the States." We had hoped that on his second visit to America Mr. Thackeray would bring his daughters to be our gueSls, but it was decided that they mu§l re- main with their grandmother, Mrs. Carmichael Smythe. At his request, we met Mr. Thackeray in Boston on his second arrival, and remained with him a few days before he went to fulfil an engagement in Buffalo. My si§ler was to be mar- INTRODUCTION ried in a short time, and we had an autumn full of busy days for my mother, complicated with much illness in the Brown House. After Buffalo came his second course of le6fures in New York, and later he returned to Boston. We saw him but seldom during this la§l visit, compared with the earlier one. There were changes in the cir- cle of the Brown House. My si§ler had, as he said, " slipped away smiling, on her husband's arm," and the gap thus made could not be filled. In February we met in Charle^lon, where I had gone to be with my siSler and brother-in-law, and he writes mo§t kindly to my mother of us there. One experience of what was another side of Mr. Thackeray's temper came to me in Charleston. Up to this time we had never seen anything of the roughness sometimes attributed to him when he was annoyed. At a certain dinner-party where I went alone with him, my siSler not being well, a lady was present who from their fir^ meeting had antago- nized Mr. Thackeray. She was clever and rather brilliant, but had written some very trashy nov- els, whose reputation had certainly not extended INTRODUCTION beyond her native city. On this and other oc- casions she seemed determined to attra6l Mr. Thackeray's attention, to his great annoyance. At la§l when something was said about the trib- ulations of authors, the lady leaned across the table, saying in a loud voice, "You and I, Mr. Thackeray, being in the same boat, can under- stand, can we not.?" A dead silence fell, a thun- der-cloud descended upon theface of Mr. Thack- eray, and the pleasure of the entertainment was at an end. The hostess was no doubt grateful when the novelist had to excuse himself for the lecture and take his departure. Certainly one of the gue^ls was, for the fir^ time in her experi- ence, relieved to see the door close upon her kind friend. This annoyance on the part of the lady was the culmination of numerous attacks, and struck ju§l the wrong chord. She is referred to as the " Individual " in a letter to my mother. In all our intercourse with Mr. Thackeray we saw only the kind, sympathetic, loving side of his great nature. It was always impossible for us to feel afraid of his cynicism, his sharp criti- cism, of which others speak. He could not help [14] INTRODUCTION seeing the weakness of human nature, but he did the fullest juSlice — as he would say, he "took off his hat" — to whatever was fine or noble in man or woman. He was, too, very patient with weakness of chara6ler,but he hated and despised pretense and humbug. All this has been said be- fore, but I feel I mu§l add my confirmation of such a view of his chara6ler from our personal experience. In May, as will be seen from his letters, Mr. Thackeray took a sudden resolution and went off, without warning, to England. It was a real distress to my mother, as to all of us, that he should go thus, without a word of good-by; but that was juSt what he wanted to avoid. We never saw him again, but letters came from time to time, telling of himself, his daughters, "a little tourkin in Switzerland " for their benefit, the fine house he was building at Kensington, " the red- dest house in the town," as he said we should find it if we came to London. Later he wrote of his stepfather's death. — the original of Colo- nel Newcome — and of his mother's grief. In the laSt years he wrote in full and affeftionate [15 3 INTRODUCTION sympathy with our great anxiety and sorrow. These letters speak also, alas ! of increasing at- tacks of illness, and we felt that the hope that he had long cherished of writing the history of Queen Anne in the new house at Kensington was not likely to be realized. Still the shock caused by his death was very great. It brought sorrow to many hearts, but I think to none more acutely than to those so truly loving him in the Brown House. LUCY W. BAXTER [16] FACSIMILE OF A LETTER TO MRS. BAXTER POSTMARKED BOSTON, DECEMBER 30, 1852 \ ^ --^ ] Mn. Thackeray. The lecture of this gentle- man last evening on Steele and the wits of Queen JAnne's time, was an amusing performance, and SSeemed to give great satisfaction. We think, jTnowevor, that the lecturer hardly did justice to the fine passage from Addison's paper on Westj minster Abbey, "When I look upon the tombs or the gieatj" Sec, so familiar to our scbool-boys. " Mr. Thackeray slurred, it over abominably, in ]iis reading— 80 that, if we had not had the passage well in our memory, we should have set it do'wn as the. veriest commonplace, whereas it ia one of the most exquisite passages of English pioac, which is to ba found- U icc<^ cW^^, I i^a I k^ L. \\^M-- ^^.^ Uruv a*ui ^ Ui PW*' Uk^'U^ fc |iWW few. tcLeuAc QiulwuM^ ^ ctnAH^c^ UkA, in'nJ^<^v^ I 59 1^ THACKERAY'S LETTERS lu. \uMuiHd yuJl c\. luw^t*^ mjt^^m, ,- FACSIMILE OF THE VERSES SENT ON APRIL 15, 1853 TO MISS LUCY W. BAXTER In the letter of May lo, 1853, Thackeray refers to the revi- sion of the verses which appears in his published works. {See Miss Lucy W. Baxter s comments on page 12.) TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XVIII May lo, Kensington, [^1853^ MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter. The letters from the dear old brown house have ju§l come in and find me still in London laid up for a day or two with a face bliSlered & hideous with cre- osote from that unlucky tooth. I wanted to go to a public dinner to-morrow and speak some- thing about America out of a full grateful heart: but this accident makes me too hideous for ap- pearance in public and may delay my visit to Paris for a day or two. I am thankful to find how glad my friends are to see me — their welcome is as cordial as welcome can be. If God Almighty denies me that greatest blessing of all a wife to love me — aren't there many compensations.'' I wish I could walk over to the 2'' Avenue this morning and show you a letter ju§t come in from Anny — such a noble tender letter. There are others here whom I have told you of whose afi^eftion cheers and honours me I think I may say : and if I may speak, speak farther to you who have THACKERAY'S LETTERS likened so kindly & often to my egotiSlical prattle — I hope please God that the love and friendship I have had in your family may even go so far as to do some public benefit — the re- membrance of you all san6lifies your country in my eyes — when people speak here sneer- ingly as Londoners will talk I break out indig- nantly and tell them how much good and worth and love and good-breeding there is in the coun- try of w''. they talk so flippantly. And I pray Heaven it may be my chance as it will be my endeavour to be a Peacemaker between us and you and to speak good will towards you. I wonder shall I come back in the fall or wait till next year.? My publishers outbid each other for books, and I can make as matters stand as much money in the next 12 months here in Europe, as yonder where I have some dear friends. . . . I have n't time to day to send the young ones a letter — What fun it would be if they would come over with Uncle Oliver! I shan't try to get them cards for the grand balls though. To know that society you muft Uve in it long : poor [62] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY pretty Mrs. S was complaining sadly of want of friends and the coldness of English- women, & that after being 4 years in London, at the head of a splendid house too, she had no intimate friend. Poor, poor little Mrs. S what will she do when she comes ? I saw B 's brother t' other day ( B is home by this time ) H talked about America in a manner so pert and odious that I should have liked to wring his little neck. His is the arrogance of a little, al- most deformed man. The grand ladies' is ig- norance not arrogance generally they are quite as good as other folks, nay in some respe6ls better than our's. Lady Stanley was quite pleased at my burbling into her ball ; my elegant appa- rition made quite a sensation. My praises of the American women are going all about the town, & Lady S says are outrageous. Some of the im- mense^ big- wigs have asked me to dinner: but I refuse all to go to the children. My dears (this of course is to the 3 young ladies) I would rather sit in in the brown house than at the big- wiggeSt table. When I come out next wants to come with me. He wears a wig, he is a wid- THACKERAY'S LETTERS ower, he looks lo years younger than I do, he has 5ooo£ a year. One of his daughters a sweet little girl of 1 7 rosebuds whom I left quite pretty and blushing has been stricken with some mal- ady and I found when I came back a pale little shrivelled old woman with a wrinkled hand. He has been absent for 1 2 years from his 3 girls who are our children's playmates. . . . How happy Anny & Minny mu§l be to know their father and have him back ! they said to their aunts. Here comes such a grand carriage to the door. Who amussy is it? Ho Ho! It is The American Minister and Miss Wilcox left the card. Lucky she didn't see me with my pantomime face. Bless you dear Mary ! Mary is her name. I told you I would learn it. I sate with her 2 hours t'other day, such a delightful time — only — only Ingersoll sate there the whole 2 hours and never would budge. I have cut down the 1 7 rosebuds into a shorter measure as thus Seventeen rosebuds in a ring Thick with sister flowers beset In a fragrant coronet Lucfs servants this day bring TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY Be it the birthday wreath she wears Fresh & bright & symbolling The young number of her years The soft blushes of her Spring &c W^. tune do you like be^ — New or old Metre? This seems like talking at home doesn't it? with all of you girls sitting with your work and anker chiefs & the lady of the house on the — here comes another knock Mr. Crowe's brother — I mu§t shut up the letter — no more talking with the brown house to day Thank you for your letters my dear girls, I '11 try & come back, I'll try & do all that every one asks me and I intend to be always your afF'" old friend w. M. T. Here we are together again I need not say who are uppermost in our thoughts H. B. M. Oho ! {^In Thackeray's handwriting ."2 [;65n THACKERAY'S LETTERS XIX 19 Rue d'Angouleme St. Honore, Paris 18, 19 May IT is not a month ago, and New York seems to me years off. Is it possible there were people there quite sad when I came away, and that I was half ready to cry at leaving them ? We don't use any more pocket-handkerchiefs now — we think very quietly about dear friends across the Atlantic. Since I 've been here espe- cially I have been in such a whirl and jangle that solitude is out of the que^ion, and even quiet thought: my room is opposite a braziers who begins at day-break with a thousand clink- ing hammers : I can't hear myself speak to you across the water. An hour before breakfast, ( this is 2 hours before breakfa^ ) the girls be- gin whirring away on the piano. They have made immense progress: they will really play very well and all for love not of music but of their father — they know what tunes I like — solemn old fashioned airs of Haydn and Mo- zart and intend to treat me to these. ... I am [66^ TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY puzzled what to do next though — the excellent governess whom they have had here is much too young & pretty to come to a single man's house, and too proud to bear the subordinate position these ladies mu§l take in London: where people shght them don't invite them &c &c. Here her daily lessons over she goes into the world with her mother and is anybody's equal. It 's a funny little world my old folks live in — quite unlike the great one to which I 'm accus- tomed and I walk round my mother's little circle a stranger and a heavy old Swell annoyed at the airs which I can't help fancying I give myself. My portrait the original of the print as large as life swaggers in the little drawing-room so and looks so pompous from every corner that I can't help looking at it. I 've not been well since I have been here. That has given the kind old step- father an opportunity to admini^ler globules. He is 72 and the brave old soldier who mounted breaches and led storming parties is quite a quiet old man lean & slippered. My mother is as hand- some and as good as ever: and all her little so- ciety worships her. You see I am falling into the [67 3 THACKERAY'S LETTERS regular small-town small talk. I have not been into the world at all : and have been here a week and it seems an age. From a twaddling society what can you have but twaddling.? It's hard that there should be something narrowing about nar- row circumstances. The misdeeds of maids-of- all-work form no small part of the little conver- sations I hear : and yesterday morning I caught Miss Minny in the kitchen with a rueful face taking leave of Louise our ex-maid, who was going away and who had been kind to my girls. I did not like to give her more than i o francs : but am glad I arrived time enough to console her parting hour with that gratuity. Now what am I to do without a governess and ought I to take the girls away from one who teaches them so capitally and shall I begin a novel in 20 num- bers or shall I get ready to come back to New York? Here are a set of questions and I 've no- thing but these egoti^ical queries to write. The advance of this place in material splen- dour is wonderful : they are pulling down and building up as eagerly as in New York ; and the [68 3 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY Rue de Rivoli is going to be the grandest street in the world — all the houses as tall as the St. Nicholas — and the palaces and the gardens look- ing so ancient and noble. The place swarms with Americans I 'm told : and I 'm quite angry to see how like the Broadway beaux are to the Boule- vard dandies . Borrowing their coats from French- men — for shame ! Silly monkies why don't they have tails of their own — I mean coat-tails — and not ape these little creatures.^ I wish I had not forgotten the name of your relative here — her who writes to Sarah about the fashions. — I would like to go & talk to some one who knows you. B. M. bounced in on me ju§l as I was closing my la§t letter ; and it was all for the sake of you that we shook hands so cordially. . . . Yesterday I spent by myself for the mo§l part: refused all invitations went to see the pic- tures, went to dine at the Trois Freres, went to the play by myself — and enjoyed the amusement not a little and the solitude still more. Met 2 fel- low-passengers out of the Europa ; one a Phila- delphia Quaker in an imbroydered waiSlcoat and THACKERAY'S LETTERS yellow gloves walking the streets at 5 o'clock — going to dine with 18 Americans at Very's he said. I think I should like to have been one — that twang sounds very friendly indeed to me: and in fa6l I feel ju§l as much at home on your side as on ours. So Sarah and M. had a many walks and rides, had they.? Lucky dog! And I that used to come for weeks and weeks & could never get a chance — there was the milliner or the French miSlress or something. Poor old fel- low! — Will they never bring the breakfa^l.'^ If the old folks had been but a little earlier, I should not have written that la^ sentence and got through the letter without jibes & scorn. But these grow milder as time passes: and when I think of your kindness and constant welcome I promise you there is no scorn in my mind then. God bless you all. Write to Kensington please: and as many as will to yours ever W. M. T. C703 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XX London, Friday, 3 June 1853 I THANK the kind elders round the oak table for their friendly letters and remembrances — and they will please consider this present as written individually to each though addressed as in duty bound to my dear Mrs. Baxter to whom I give my arm when we go in to dinner you know, before grace is said, and we all fall to. I can not send you much of a letter. If it were full of what I am doing it would be full of eat- ing and drinking. There is feasting here for me at all hours if I like: and my reputation for a great appetite is very different here from what it used to be at New York. Yesterday I trans- afted breakfast luncheon and dinner out of doors; meeting Mrs.Stowe at the second of those meals, with whom I was very agreeably disap- pointed. In place of the woman I had imagined to myself after the hideous daguerroty pe I found a gentle almost pretty person with a very great sweetness in her eyes and smile. I am sure she mu§t be good and truth-telling from her face THACKERAY'S LETTERS and behaviour : and when I get a country place and a leisure hour shall buckle to Uncle Tom and really try to read it. I told Lord Shaftesbury though ( who seems to worship Mrs. Stowe ) that there were other people besides blacks in Amer- ica & that there were 23 millions of whites who interested me still more than the niggers. What fea§ls I had at Barings and Sturgis's ! On Wednesday I asked two Americans to dine here: and as my invaluable plate is still at the banker's, we had to serve the soup with a tea-cup. I rather expeft this fa6l will appear in the American papers some day, as an instance of my avarice or my poverty, and warn you before hand what the real state of the case is. If the young ladies had been staying with me I could have got them a great ball for la§l night. Young Mr. Beaumont of Northumberland gave it : the youthful owner of 1 00000^ a year. Two of the young ladies of the ball were at my din- ner, they wore white filmy dresses all over Van- dykes ; and one of them was covered with a sort of sprouts of roses, very neat. After a week of this though I think I shall break down. I get TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY confused about the people I meet & don't meet, and they figure before me as in a dream. Can you understand why this letter is so stupid? Is it not possible that I have a headache ? — Yes, but the steamer will not wait over to-morrow ; and I know you '11 be disappointed at Brownhouse unless you have a line. I am looking out for a quiet sea-side place where I may settle down and write a book. By this you will understand that my visit to New York won't be till next Autumn probably: and then who knows perhaps I may bring the girls with me. Yes, but then what girls will there be left in the Brown House .^ Cupid may carry off everyone of my three pretty Daguerrotypes be- tween this time & next year : but I feel perfe6lly certain we shall all meet and have good times again, and never for a moment suppose that we are parted. If you please, Uncle Oliver, to give a hearty shake of the hand to Hicks de ma part, and con- gratulate him on his safety. Baring looked glum when I talked to him about eight per cent and railroad shares in America: he would rather I THACKERAY'S LETTERS would take four I think. Well, this may cause me to pay 3 visits to America in place of 2. Be sure I shall be glad of any excuse that brings me. I have found one of the missing sheets, that to Miss Sarah and send the same, and the very kindest regards and remembrances to you all from yours, dear Mrs. Baxter, gratefully ever W. M. THACKERAY XXI June, 1853 I DON'T know whether the morning papers will announce that " Mr. Thackeray has left town for the season " : but if I had staid a week longer I think I should have been buried there, or had another fever ; the dinners are so severe and my powers of self-re§lraint so miserably in- competent before the daily temptation. ... lam tired of the great world pretty well, and am as glad to get quit of it after 3 weeks idleness and lounging and gormandizing as if I had been born a Marquis. I think of the future for my girls and what they are to do in the tramp and bu^lle of C74:] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY that London life, and have a mind to cut the belle societe altogether, and go and live among my equals. Well they have their tramp & bu§lle too, their crowding to parties long dinners squeezy balls, flatterers toadies and what not ju^l as in the grandee world. I went to a concert at the house of a cousiness of mine who has a fine man- sion in Portman Square, and 6000^ a year to be^ow upon any one who marries her; there were as many sneaks about her as in the very politest circles, and people were as eager to get to her party as to a Duchess's — it 's only in the degree — the human nature is the same every- where, and then the good society is inconte^l- ably better than the second-chop — the dinners are so much better and shorter. O ye gods! What fine dinners I have had in the la§t 3 weeks! How sick I grew of them! Did I write the afflifting news that I have been obliged to have out 3 teeth.'' Miss Sally, I shall never fall in love any more. There 's a pretty girl with whom I could do it though: there was a little talk about her coming with my girls as their governess and dame de compagnie. But says I [75:] THACKERAY'S LETTERS "No, my dear, you are a great deal too good looking. "Knowing the susceptibility of this aged heart I 'm determined to put it to no more temp- tation than I can help. She is left behind and my heart is perfe6lly easy. I think of writing a book "The adventures of a Gentleman in search of a Governess." I have had some amusing scenes in que§l of that person ; 2 days ago had all but engaged one — a Swiss, clever, 30, agreeable, lively, well-mannered — I begged her juSl to write down the address of the lady with whom she lived and behold ! she can't write — or writes about as well as a cook maid. I have signed and sealed with Bradbury and Evans for a new book in 24 numbers like Pendennis. Price 3600^ + 500^ from Harper and Tauchnitz. It 's coining money is n't it.? and if I can make another ex- pedition to a certain country as remunerative as the la§t, why, 2 years hence will see my girls snugly provided for. Thank God. I don't (I be- lieve ) take any pride out of this prosperity but receive it with a thankful heart. Curtis's article touched me very much. I hope that is the right view of the charafter. So with all its shortcom- 1:76 J TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY ings may God Almighty find it and deal with it. And I like to think that I have left that sort of good opinion behind me among^ those I love in your country. So poor old James has been assaulting me in a le6lure! Well, my hide is strong enough not to wince under his old kicks. — I think you mu^ have your glasses to read this small writing. I have only my old gold pen at hand which is for drawing not writing gen- erally, and scribble, where do you think Miss Sarah.? At Dessein's Hotel in Sterne's Room! I came to bed inllead of travelling on to Paris through the night. It has been pouring with rain all day, and the wind has got comfortably up so as to blow quite a gale. I'm not very well, and shall go on only to Amiens tonight; and so Mrs. Baxter gets a long letter, because it is raining, and I have nothing to do. That was why you used to get such long visits at New York from sheer selfishness of course — but a selfishness not altogether unkindly. I wish this was 3 pages of the book — that would be 75 dollars: but it's only twopence you see, which I bring to my dear kind friends at the Brown House. C77J THACKERAY'S LETTERS Sterne's pi6lure is looking down on me from the chimney piece at which he warmed his lean old shanks ninety years ago. He seems to say " You are right. I was a humbug : and you, my lad, are you not as great.?" Come, come Mr. Sterne none of these tu quoques. Some of the London papers are abusing me as hard as ever I assaulted you — one fellow says the perjured historian &c &c — meaning me. I only read 3 lines though & think it is the same man who abused me elsewhere — one R. who has a grudge again^ me about his wife. I was called in bien malgre moi to interfere in their family quar- rels, and condu6led my arbitration with such admirable justice that they both detect me. You are all away taking your pleasures from the brown house. Again poor C. P. has had his tooth out no doubt. I saw B. on Tuesday at a rich bankiSls, Mr. Raikes Currie, who has a funny & amusing young son who has been at New York. I go about praising you Americans to all that will hear. Hush ! between ourselves I know some of what I say is unju^: and that I speak too favorably : but if you could hear the vulgar- [78;] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY ity and ignorance and outrecuidance on our side ! It sets me in a rage when I liSlen to it. Monday at Paris. I travelled from Calais with a very honest expe6loratory countryman of yours, who gave utterance to all his inward emo- tions quite freely. He shook me warmly by the hand ( his was not kept as Miss Smith of Wash- ington likes them) and said "I have heard of what you have been saying about os sir," and I 'm glad what I said did give pleasure and has been heard elsewhere. It is pleasant to be again in quiet with the dear old and young folks. XXII 4.th of July, Hip, Hip Hurra, 1853 FOR the la§l 10 days the undersigned has been so undecided ("undersigned" "un- decided" — not good language, and then that blot oughtn't I to begin a new shee') — Well I think I have at la^ determined that we set off on Wednesday to Hambourg w"? will be our fir§t halt and where I shall try and do some of my new book. It won't be a good one — not a step for- i79 2 THACKERAY'S LETTERS wards as some ambitious young American folks would have it; but a retreat rather — however if I can get 3000^ for my darters, I mean 3000 to put away besides living, I will go backwards or forwards or any way. It torments me inces- santly, and I wander about with it in my inte- rior, lonely & gloomy as if a secret remorse was haunting me. I saw a pretty American girl in a carriage in the Rue Vivienne today. She was like you, she had your colour &c — a great gush of feelings came tumbling out of this bussam at the sight. I wanted to run after the carriage to stop it and speak to her and say " Do you know any- thing of one S. B. of New York ? " The carriage whisked away leaving me alone with my feel- ings — O ye old gho§ts! I declare I saw nothing of the crowded city for a minute or two so com- pletely did the revenans hem me in — Nothing is forgotten. We bury 'em but they pop out of their graves now and again and say Here we are Mas- ter. Do you think we are dead? No, No, only asleep. We wake up sometimes we come to you we shall come to you when you are ever so old ; we shall always be as fresh and mischievous as C803 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY we are now. We shall say Do you remember S. S. B. do you remember her eyes? Do you think she had 2 dimples in her cheeks and don't you recolle6l this was the note of her laugh, that used to be quite affe6led at times but you know the music of it, you poor old rogue? Yes the laugh and the looks flash out of the paft every now and then, and whisk by me ju^l like that carriage in the Rue Vivienne. A novel thought! Suppose I make the hero of the new book in love with some one? and then suppose I make him jilted? He won't break his heart. I dont think he '11 have much of a heart, and besides break- ing it in the very firSl numbers would be pre- po^erous. (Another blot on the next page this ink is very liquid. ) I wrote your mother about sleeping in Sterne's room at Calais ; was n't it queer? I wonder whether all literary men are humbugs and have no hearts. I know one who has none. Why you may marry anybody you please & I don't care: I dare say there is some young fellow at Newport or Saratoga at this very minute — and I 'm amused I give you my honour I 'm amused. L'autre and her lord & THACKERAY'S LETTERS mai§ter are reconciled and I m not in the lea§l annoyed : and one of my loves being here the other day with two babies I nursed the young- est with a graceful afFe6lion that the father him- self could n't have equalled. ... Is n't the dinner coming ? What a pocket full of news I am giving you! July 5 Charles Pearman, my new servant, arrived from London laSl night, and broughtme no letter from you. Do you know Mademoiselle that this is moSl igUordinary and unpleasant.? How can you tell that he did n't come from London solely in order that I might have that letter.? and now — rien — nothing — nix ! We all march tomorrow morning. Shall I have time to fill this sheet ere we go — Ingrate! I should have had time but I have nothing to reply to. A friend of many peo- ple here, an Irish Doctor, has ju^ been to be knighted in England ; and so they are going to give him a dinner ; and so I am to be in the chair and make the speeches ; that is my la§t appear- ance at Paris, & tomorrow O for fun & freedom & fresh air ! C80 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY What letters have n't I been answering all day ! — No more small hand-writing Miss Sarah, no more cramped hand, no time for that. But I will send this away from Paris, and before I get farther from you ; although I know there 's no- thing in it but that I m yours &c &c &c. One of the letters was from Mrs. Gore — Tell Mrs. Bering this, please; Miss C. yester- day was married to the Lord ... a sad scapegrace I 'm afraid ruined long ago. How can such a couple get on ^ How could I write a con- gratulatory letter to Mamma? I tried & it was as glum as a funeral. All I could say by way of consolation was Marriages that seem to augur very well often turn out very unhappy — there- fore this that looks so bad may turn out quite the reverse. It was pleasant to get a heap of fine invitations from London and think one was free of them — Did I tell you in page i or 2 that I think of passing a good bit of the winter here ^ My dear kind old stepfather gets very old. His goodness to the children has been admirable. They are a httle too much for him & even for my mother I think but they will be very un- [83 11 THACKERAY'S LETTERS happy without them so instead of going to Rome as I thought, why we will sit down here in a lit- tle tranquillity, and I '11 try & do my duty filially as well as paternally. O how I wish you would all come here for the winter! What would n't I give to hear somebody laugh, and see somebody smile ! I don't like to think of your dear kind mo- ther's illness; and the non-receipt of these letters somehow fills me with a queer disquiet about you. I have been reading Nile Notes. Do you know it 's uncommonly clever ? Or is it because of that Criticism in Putnam that my grateful eyes are opened to Curtis's merits. The book is capital . . . too luscious to read much of at a time ; but I send the author my regards and am glad to Hke what he has done so. Now I will shut up this. Now I will send my love to you all: now I take Sarah's two hands, the laSl you know, and look in her face (don't smile in that saucy way Miss) and say Good bye, dear Sarah, always remember I'm your afFe6lionate old friend W. M. T. [84;] rif ^. '•r^' 'jj i ^^:: THACKERAY S SKETCHES OF A MEDIEVAL PAGE FOR A FANCY-BALL COSTUME TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XXIII Vevey, July 9,6, 1853 THE fourth of July landed a little letter which has been 3 weeks on its way since, before it found the person to whom it was ad- dressed — I got it at Lausanne the day before yesterday — a glum little letter. . . . What for do you reproach me ? . . . Haven't I written you 3 letters for one ? . . . I think I should have liked to hear of that gal- lant young P. being made happy — I like him because he 's handsome and hone§l. And as for you I think you have got so much chara6ler, resolution and good temper that you would make yourself happy in making other folks so — and would accommodate yourself to deficiencies in savoir vivre like a young philosopheress. Be- sides that young fellow, as far as I could see, is a thorough gentleman and why should not his belongings be so? . . . B^is spoiled by the heart- lessness of London — which is awful to think of — the mo§l godless respeftable thing — thing's not the word but I can't get it — I mean that [85 3 THACKERAY S LETTERS world is base and prosperous and content, not unkind — very well bred — very unaffe6led in manner, not dissolute — clean in person and rai- ment and going to church every Sunday — but in the eyes of the Great Judge of right & wrong what rank will those people have with all their fine manners and spotless chara6lers and linen ? They never feel love, but dire6lly it 's born, they throttle it and fling it under the sewer as poor girls do their unlawful children — they make up money-marriages and are content — then the father goes to the House of Commons or the Counting House, the mother to her balls and visits — the children lurk up stairs with their gov- erness, and when their turn comes are bought and sold, and respeftable and heartless as their parents before them. Hullo! — I say — Stop! — where is this tirade a-going to and apropos of what? — Well — I was fancying my brave young Sarah (who has tried a little of the pomps & vanities of her world ) transplanted to ours and a London woman of society — with a husband that she had taken as she threatens to take one sometimes ju§l because he is a good parti. No [86;] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY — go and live in a clearing — marry a husband masticatory, expe6loratory, dubious of linen, but with a heart below that rumpled garment — let the children eat with their precious knives — help the help, and give a hand to the dinner yourself — yea, it is better than to be a woman of fashion in London, and sit down to a French dinner where no love is. Immense Moralist! I think I '11 call in Anny now, and give her a turn at the new novel. I see a chapterout of the above sermon and you know I muSt have an i to the main chance — ( The same evening ) I CALLED in Miss Anny at the above moment of writing, and we had a good time till dinner- time the story advancing very pleasantly. I am not to be the author of it. Mr. Pendennis is to be the writer of his friend's memoirs and by the help of this little mask ( w*? I borrowed from PisiSlratus Bulwer I suppose ) I shall be able to talk more at ease than in my own person. I only thought of the plan la^ night and am immensely relieved by adopting it. Alexander Smith is a [87] THACKERAY'S LETTERS grand young fellow and has shot one or two bow shots immensely high, but he is not up to the great Keats or the great Alfred yet and doubt whether he ever can be — As for my small beer; why talk about ptj in the same breath? — Well Small beer is good of its sort — some day you '11 have my little barrel, and I hope you '11 relish a glass or two. There 's such a magnificent landscape or lake- scape at my windows as I write. The sun jui§l now has been departing westwards, jyowrwards so splendidly ! There 's such a crowd of Ameri- cans at this hotel — Almost all the women pretty, some of the men so awfully vulgar. I read in the Strangers' book: NAME COUNTRY PROFESSION WHENCE COME WHITHER GOING Smithy. U.S.A. Clergyman Genevre Over the whole lot. Smith T. Fancy Genevre and "over the whole lot"\ There it is in the Strangers' book. August 7 Bon Dieu! It is 12 days since this little note was begun : It has been stopped because I had TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY not calculated the steamers well, because I was busy writing, because we have been travelling — to Geneva to Lausanne to Vevey again and thence to Butte, Freyburg, Berne — It has co§l 80^ for one month for 3 people and a servant, travelling gently and living soberly, 400 dollars — so you see what you may do: but if you travel hard you mu§l add other 100 dollars to this reckoning. At Vevey among the 100,000 Amer- icans I saw the name of B. Can it be Lucy's young man? — and there was a lady, I think her name was P., who I am sure mu§t be Mrs. C. S's si^er like her in person and in voice especially — and I was going to speak to her but she had a nice little son whom she bullied so that I could not open my mouth. I pass whole days some- times and scarce open it, if the people are not to my liking I cant speak, and seem igh and aughty — I 'm in low spirits about the Newcomes. It 's not good. It 's stupid. It haunts me like a great stupid ghoSt. I think it says why do you go on writing this rubbish.? You are old, you have no more invention &c. Write sober books, books of hi^ory leave novels to younger folks. [89^ THACKERAY'S LETTERS You see half of my life is grumbling ; and leftur- ing or novel-writing or sentimentalizing I am never content. . . . Are there any more letters come from America for me ? Yesterday we were walking up a hill from Freyburg, I come to a carriage, and a voice from within calls out How is Miss Baxter? Fancy a voice calling out How is Miss Baxter on the top of a Swiss hill ! It was a friend of Mrs. Sturgis's — and the lonely cavi- ties of my heart echoed how is Miss Baxter — Anny and I had been talking about you ju§t be- fore and she had been telling me how my step- father, when I was away and the girls had been out on a walk, would say to them on their re- turn "O I have had a visit from Miss Sally Baxter ! " This is Sunday. We go to Church when we are abroad but ye§lerday we met the clergyman at the table d'hote and he was so awfully pom- pous, grandiloquent and stupid that I could n't go to hear him sermonize. We may go to wards Eng- land tomorrow, or to Munich — I never know. I have no will of my own and don't care to have one when there is no call for it. I think about [90] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY you constantly and very very very kindly — and of all of you. Why does everybody else bore me, the great world & all, and why do I feel so at home always in that Brown House ? God bless all there: and never for a moment go for to doubt that I am your afFeftionate old friend. W. M. T. Berne, August 7 XXIV September 27, 1853 I CANT hope to answer all three kind letters to-day, my dear Mrs. Baxter, but Mamma ought to have a word of thanks & acknowledge- ment, and here it is written at the la^ hour as usual from the haunt of myself and other old fogies who are beginning to people the place again with their old white heads and pink faces. We get rosy about the gills in this country with old age, whereas in your country old gentlefolks take — another colour. Poor Sarah writes me a long nice kind dismal letter confirming your melancholy accounts of her — She says she looks old and withered and all her beauty is gone — THACKERAY'S LETTERS My dear I should like very much to see. I met M. yesterday who asked have I heard from N. Y. and is Sarah going to be married? and he laughed. But he came very eagerly across the street after me and I am not so silly as to sup- pose it was to know about my health he passed the crossing. H. inherits a great property by his father's death. I forget how much Sturgis said, but something like 15,000^ a year, and B. no doubt comes in for a handsome portion. But I have said my say that I would rather see your young woman located in a wigwam than mis- tress of a house in May Fair where no love was — and dont think I should ever forgive her if she married B. How sorry I am I did n't see young B. — and Libbie, has not Libby a young man.? I feel like a sort of great-grand-uncle to all those girls. We I and mine have ju§l been into the city buying things for our trip to France and Italy — plated forks and spoons — not liking to take our valuable and ancient plate. Next year at this time or when the equinoxious gales are over (they C90 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY have been blowing hurricanes these 3 days) shall we be thinking of crossing to America? Who knows what Fate has in store for us be- tween this and then? I am awaiting the end of this day with a queer sort of feeling — this day week I dreamed I met an uncle of mine whom I had not seen for a long time, and after talking about America together I agreed to dine with him today. Now my uncle has been dead these 1 2 years and if I dine with him ? It would be a funny dream if it came true and what a para- graph it w^ make in the paper! I have ju§l sent the girls home in a Hansom Cab to their huge delight, and stop on the way to scribble this two- penny gossip to New York. . . . What would life be without grumbling? I truft my dear friend that if you know me for a hundred years to come you will never find me otherwise than good-na- tured & discontented. I have been twice to look for the friend who is to advise me about your husband's law suit but he is not forthcoming — all the lawyers are away ju^ now. The girls and I are ju^ come from my law-chambers, in Lamb THACKERAY'S LETTERS Court opposite Messrs. Warrington & Penden- nis who are as real barriHers as I am. Events in Europe look so very glumly that I doubt if we shall get to Italy. There is going to be a great quarrel with Tuscany apropos of their put- ting this young tra6l and Bible distributor into prison — We have a grudge against the Pope, a grudge againSl the AuSlrians, a war perhaps with Russia at this moment — the Lord deliver us well out of these possible and probable evils — but if that laSl inevitable tremendous war w"? muft come some day should begin tomorrow afternoon at 2:30 or any other time or day I should n't be surprised ; and my daughters mui§l come out and live on the S. Michigan Railway. This twaddle and slipslop might find its way into the fire instead of the bag of the Hermann tomorrow ( I see the great white bags flumped down on the deck ) but if it tells nothing else it tellsof affe6lionand kind memoryof dear friends which please God I shall always keep as long as my name is so and so. One walks straight away from this busy world back into yours and I see the old room and sit in the yellow arm [94] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY chair and taSle the old welcome dinner and wine, and look at the girls and Wylly quite quiet by his father and hear a wonderful remark from George. God bless them all says yours, dear Mrs. Baxter, moSl sincerely W. M. T. And Mrs. Snelling, juSl let us run across the avenue and say How do you do Mrs. Snelling.? How do you do all & good bye. XXV Maison Valin, Champs Ely sees 3 November, 1853 MY DEAR Mrs . Baxter : I have been a long time without sending de nos nouvelles to the Brown House. What with pleasure business many relatives I am scarce mailer of my own time here. Now I mu§t walk with the children, now I mu^ go and see my old parents, now the sun shines so provokingly that its impossible to remain at home — so the day passes, and old friends do not get their proper share of it. It has been a busy month since we arrived here — on I 95 3 THACKERAY'S LETTERS 4 06lober I see by Sarah's little pocket-book — w'? gives me many a recolle6lion dismal and pleasant — There is Jan 1 8, Philadelphia, Lecture III. I remember the people were all kept wait- ing whilst I finished certain rhymes to "bom." There 's Ne,w York, April 15 and on that day the only entry is Lu. What can that mean.? and 5 days after comes " Left New York by Europa" and then England & then Paris & then Germany 6 Switzerland, and England and Paris again — Soon it will be Rome mo^ probably. What a number of places and agitation of life ! I begin to feel mo^ tranquillity of mind in a railway car- riage now; and retirement in an inn. Certainly here the place does n't favor indu^ry — Anny & I have been only able to compose one num- ber of the Newcomes all this month — I 'm leav- ing off writing now altogether — and have sat many a day for hours with the paper before me and not been able to invent 6 lines. Is n't this paper abominable ? I have no other. Miss Anny in her great handwriting has used up all the good paper for the Newcomes. I wish there were reams of it so covered. . . . And now I am at TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY an end of this blotting paper: and my dear Mrs. Baxter's afFeftionate friend always w. M. T. Off to Paris tomorrow then to Rome. XXVI 18 November, 1853 MY DEAR Baxter. My friend Mr. S. Law- rence is the bearer of this, and I know you will all be kind to him for the sake of the lovely youth whose pi6lure he painted and who is Yours W. M. T. How well Lawrence would draw you ! My dear Mrs. Baxter, you mu^ insist upon having your husband's head takenofF — and you young ladies do your utmo^ to make the good little painter happy. He has an immense family, is one of the be§l of creatures, and O how I wish I was going to see the faces and hear the voices which he will see. C97: THACKERAY'S LETTERS Paris, Nov., 185 3 AS Miss Sarah is only to have one side of pa- jl\. per, we muSt have recourse to the tight upright hand, and you will see Miss, by counting the letters that you have quite as much as you send me. I have been writing to your mother and the girls until I feel quite New York sick. There 's no merit in liking you — no more than in liking peaches or pickled walnuts — its be- cause I cant help myself you see, I daresay I 've told you so a thousand times over. Every honei§l man repeats himself continually. If a man does not, be on your guard against him, as he is on himself. Three days ago dining with my Aunt I thought this day 12 months I was coasting Wales on my way out to America, and I filled a glass. Miss, & drank to some people's health silently swallowing the wine & sentiment. I think when I come back to New York I shan't come and see you any more. It would be the be§l way, depend on it. We have had such a good time Wir haben uns alle so Lieb that we shall never be able to beat it. You won't like [98] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY me with my hair dyed I know and I have grown so fat it is quite awful — then you write that you are so old and changed ! At thine age, friendess, that conceives itself well. At twenty years one is no longer young in your climates, and when one has had so much of griefs ! SKETCH BY THACKERAY FOR MISS SARAH BAXTER S BIRTH- DAY, REPRESENTING THE TWENTIETH MILESTONE ON THE ROAD OF LIFE, WITH THE ARTIST IN THE DISTANCE What is it that makes you miserable ? I wish I could hear. On a certain subje6l you told me I was not to write to you. It 's that one I sup- pose. Now that I am thousands of miles away from them, I opine that the tears of twenty years dry up very quickly. ... A girl I was very fond of asked me once for advice about a matrimo- nial matter, and whether she should take an old gentleman whom she only esteemed, and I gave her what do you think for advice ? — None : that 's [.99:1 THACKERAY'S LETTERS a case in w!" no do6lor can prescribe & the patient only can determine. She ended by marrying an- other man whom she esteemed and they have children of course and I believe they are very happy as times go — But what idle talking ! each case is different from every other. I think I have nothing to tell you, and this is a very stupid letter. La§l week I went to a ball given by the young men of our Embassy to all sorts of wonderful people of the Theatres, Operas &c — the &c is awful — Such toilettes, such danc- ing ! such wicked, happy , careless, beautiful folks ! It was curious to see them ; & I am glad I went — It was for the fir§l time in my life that I saw the thing, which was as corre6l as one of your balls or ours for all I could see — & the women, the beautiful dresses and daring gaiety ! Cor- bin had a dinner the same day of heavy Amer- ican and British company, from w*? I went to the young men's party. And I have given some res- taurateur-fea^s myself w'? have been tolerably pleasant having a notion to make Punch pay for them by a series of GaSlronomic articles — and 1 have been racketting about as usual: getting TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY now and then a day to myself away from fash- ionable gossip from family gossip qui n'est guere moins supportable : and I have had some capital days and walks with my girls the sight of whose happiness makes me happy. Shall I write you a pleasanter letter soon ? next week ? tomorrow ? This is not one — only to see that I am Yours sincerely always W. M. T. This is a postscript written in a hurry — to pray your good father not to mind the awful price of this letter w*? it is too late to pay it w*? it is written in the office of a newspaper correspond- ent with 6 people talking round about. I have ju§t come out of the height of good society, Lady Cowley, Lady Sandwich, Lady Walde- grave, Lord Bath and here 's quite another set, and a pleasanter perhaps — C. C. Clifford is re- lated to the Duke of Devonshire — with the bar sinister, a very worthy good young man. I dont know Lefevre — the Speaker's son I suppose — I did n't see Hatty. I only care for Hatty " on fire " and a few, very few more. ... I wish I was CioO THACKERAY'S LETTERS where this letter is a going. It was n't worth while to keep the letter open for these fadaises, was it? What compliments you have got to pay- ing me of late! — I went and got your laSl let- ter and read it over before I came out. Hence all these little remarks. I had quite forgotten the compliments: but not you Mademoiselle whose gift pocket-book is very near full now, & the year run over & a deal of care and pleasure with it. Farewell and God bless you all. Write me soon ; if direftly I shall have the letter before I go to Rome — where and elsewhere I shall always re- member S. S. B. . . . Ajew. Ajew. . . . XXVII 1853 OUR next move is a mystery though — whether it shall be Switzerland or Dev- onshire or where. Then it is probable I shall pass October & November in Paris, and the winter — why, suppose we say Rome for the winter.'' It sounds a pleasant life, don't it Madam ? But I 'm so doubtful as never to count upon the month before me; and have seen too much of [ 102^ TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY the weary old world to look for any especial degree of pleasure in any particular corner of it. I was saying to the girls yesterday, Suppose we go & write the book at Saratoga Springs? but you see that would make us too common and do away with the novelty agin the lefture season in 1 854 ; when Lucy will be married and Libby engaged and Sarah — ah where will Sarah be ? I saw one of my ex-loves ye^erday with 2 pretty babies, very happy handsome & friendly. — I am twaddling — it is before breakfast. It is not good to write before breakfast. Now I dare- say there is an American letter for me at my house at London — go and get thy breakfast. Thursday June 30 Since this your letter has come to my mother and I m very sorry indeed to hear of your ill- ness ; and I m in a hurry to save the po§t hav- ing been out with the children unexpeftedly till now & on Wednesday we go for the Rhine & Switzerland, I believe, & wherever I am I am always the B. H.'s AfFe6lionately, w. m. t. C 103 ] THACKERAY'S LETTERS XXVIII Direct care of Macbeau. Banquier Via del Corso. a Rome Via della Croce 81 Rome Saturday 17 Dec' 1853 JUST as we were leaving Paris, ever so long ago, on the 28 of November I think, I got a letter from my dear Mrs. Baxter, with a line of po§lscript from poor S. S. B. who could write no more having been ill in her bed for many long days — And ever since then I have been so huSlled and hurried that I have not had time for a letter to my friends in the sunset — though the very fir§l day I saw him setting behind St. Peter's you may be sure I thought of you, and sent a many kind wishes across the intervening space ( here I try to fancy it to myself in a map ) which I hope fluttered into a Second Avenue window and found all well there. That la§t letter of Mrs. Baxter's was very disheartening though. I fancy care worn faces at the brown house. It seems to me awfully distant. I fear that con- founded hne about " Mr. Washington " has done [ 104] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY me a world of mischief in the States, for though English and French laugh when they read it, — there 's no use explaining & apologizing to an angry half-educated man — and, ah me! the other 10,000 dollars I counted upon are I fear knocked into nothing by that unlucky blunder. What shall I tell you about Rome? We are here a fortnight — and the man who travels with- out a governess and with 2 daughters finds him- self pretty much the tall confidential old family servant of the young ladies. Not one word of writing have I done as yet, and to be sure have been ill for the la§l 4 days ; with an attack of — well of leeches, blisters, calomel. I have been ill once a month for the laft 5 months. I who never was ill in our country. Miss Sarah, I have had bredn water for four days, and am pretty better thank you ; and am so glad I brought my servant with me contrary to the diftates of com- mon sense & economy. Beside him we have an Eyetalian old woman, with whom we blunder on amusingly, and for lodgings some of the very handsomest & comfortableSl; rooms in all Rome. We came by Lyons & the Rhone to Avignon [ 105:1 THACKERAY^S LETTERS and Marseilles, a dreary journey through froSt and snow, in steamers O how unlike our steam- ers ! had a jolly passage by Genoa & Leghorn to Civita Vecchia, kilt a po^ilhon on the road to Rome, and missed being robbed only by a day; the next day people were stopped and my girls were quite disappointed at our not enjoying the adventure. I had a hundred louis with me which would have made it much more piquante. Do you see that I have a new ruby pen w^ does not write well ? It is capital for this hand when I sit up, but not for this when I lie down, the po§lure I am forced to keep by the Do6lor. Such a dirty, peevish Irish Do6lor ! as he felt my pulse la§t night I felt Miss Smith ( of Washing- ton D. C. ) was not right and that all English- men do not "keep their nails well." He lives in the house though, has few other patients, and is very eager about this one. How I should like to smoke a cigar ! I would if I could get one of Uncle Oliver's little ones — but here they are so coarse and so big. — Thisis mo^ awful. The girls are sitting before me, and I was trying to draw them but the pen and the perspe6live & the o < Pi a M u < a h O h < O (J < TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY clumsiness & position of the artiSl don't admit of doing it. I have seen none of the Roman Americans but Mr. Van Buren — the poor Storys are here in great grief having ju§l lo§l their child, and I hear from your side that my poor friend Mrs. Lowell is no more. How, after one knows the world and has been in a6lion for a few years, they do drop round about one ! I read the death of some one I know in every paper almoSl — to-day it was a little (only ) child I saw at Paris a month since, the darling of its mother's eyes — Here breaks in a controversy about " Zanoni," Anny all en- thusiasm, Minny as usual taking matters coolly — Well, though I have written nothing, I have had a capital time with the girls. They are capi- tal. It makes me happy to see them so. I was thinking the other day that this was or ought to be the happiest of all my life — and these ill- nesses dont make it worse — rather better. The girls are so good, they wont be alarmed, they show me their bonny faces once or twice a day — that is they did; now I 'm well again. I beg pardon for prattling to you so much about — THACKERAY'S LETTERS about what a man knows and talks of be^ I 've heard Miss S. S. B. say. Cant we find any plan of healing that absurd " Mr. Washington " feud.? I feel myself shocked and pained by it as if some dear friend had turned round to abuse me; I who for once in my life kept my own council ; who have got to consider yours as my country almost ; who have praised the States so outrageously since I came home, & made myself such a violent partizan — How dare people think I could be guilty of such stupid abuse as that they attribute to me? I who love and honor Washington as I love and honour no other man.? — "It serves you right" a man said to me in London, You see what good you have got by praising the States — O it puts me in a rage ! I muSt send this from some po§lal mystery without an envelope, and shorten this rambling scrawl so far — I know you 11 be as kind to Law- rence as you can, his is a real talent, and had it been ever so little less honest mu§t have met a great success. I am sure his chalk drawings of men are of the very highest order. Please Uncle Oliver introduce him to the Centurions — though C 108 ^ TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY he is not a jolly bird, like some of those legion- aries — I wish I was going to see 'em again — What makes me so fond of you all in that city ? I know I write this over and over again ; as one says how do you do and God bless you over again to friends one loves as &c &c to whom I send a kind greeting and a happy Xmas & many & many a happy N. Y. Where was the la§t Xmas spent? I have written down in the commence- ment of the little pocket book all places I have lived in since — such a catalogue! — I never like to shut up when I 'm writing to any of you but come back for a la§l good bye & God bless you. W. M. T. XXIX Naples. Sometime in March — ^Sth the last day, 1854 MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter: I am paying off debts of friendship as time serves, and now I think comes the turn of my dear friends in New York , to whom my thoughts often go if my letters don't. I have such hard work now that letter-writing becomes difficult to me ; and such C 109 n THACKERAY'S LETTERS a number of cares and troubles encompassing me that the letters when I do write are perforce the mo§l gloomy comfortless scraps of paper. What did Sarah's la§t sad letter mean, and what ails my bright S. S. B. ? She wrote as if she had quite a serious malady — full of affection for the kindest parents in the world, but of dismal fore- bodings for herself ill or well. As for me I have been ill ever since I have been in Italy — twice at Rome : as often since we have been here : and travelling without a female servant for my girls I have had them both ill with the scarlatina — Anny fir§l,then Minny a week after: then I took ill on my own account : and we were all three, lo days since, stretched on our backs looking out at the Mediterranean yonder — so provok- ingly bright and blue. As soon as ever I'm well, I fall to work again: to keep up my 4 num- bers ahead. The care and anxiety are coni^lant you see. God grant that you have gone through your share for poor Sarah, and that she and the Spring are come out together. I 've scarcely been out of doors for weeks paSl : and have had little heart to enjoy things when I went out. TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY Am I not fulfilling my promise of a dismal let- ter ? Thank God my girls are both up now and well — Anny who has been the longed convales- cent, taking sweet kind care of her younger sis- ter. Minny during Anny's fever was a fine little nurse: and when we were all on our beds we by the be§t of good luck got an excellent Irish nurse, who took care of poor little No. 2 when her turn came. This Italy has been a failure. I start off from one glum topic to another. I don't like the accounts of your constant headaches : nor the report that the la§l year has n't been a good one for your husband. He mu§l n't mind my not writing to him. I don't to any man except on business ( and negleft that dreadfully too ) . I wish you and he and Sarah and Lucy would come over to us at Kensington. I wish we were there. I muSl get back and to read for the new leftures ; though I despond about them rather; and feel about 20 years older than when I saw you. I was right, was n't I, to shut up my portfolio two days ago, and take my hat and go out. The blue devils were growing too blue — bluer than the sea out of window and that 's glorious to look THACKERAY'S LETTERS upon. Do you know what this is? This is the island of Capri right opposite my window. It is as purple — as purple as the pelisse Miss Bax- ter used to wear this time lall year — and there are 1,2,3 little ships dotting the sea line, and the blue ocean seems swelling over, gently dancing landward as if it would hop into my windows. Night and morning come musicians with song and roundelay. O my stars how sick I am of their noise ! They have bawled it under my windows and spoiled my work : they have bawled it and spoiled my girls' sleep. There comes one of them now, the villain ! ( I am trying to restore my good humour by drawing those little waves between the lines. ) If it had not been for a non- sensical Xmas book I have been writing I dont know what I should have done in these la^ dreary weeks. How much men make of a little confinement! (not your husband that pearl of papas and husbands ) but selfish people like your humble servant — And how kindly and simply women bear it ! What ! Shall I go on writing this ejaculatory sort of sentiment. I have nothing else to say, see no one, remark nothing, take Anny TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY out, read the newspaper for relaxation, work all the morning at No. XI when health permits — might as well be at Brompton as here — I think I'll wait for another day, and stop again. When was the above written.'' Ever so many days ago. Now No. 2 goes out as well as No. 1 , and soon I hope we shall be able to leave this ill-starred country, and get to Paris and London. Times are going a little more pleasantly. The children have their dinner, with huge appetites thank Heaven, at 1. Then we go out. Then I go and dine with my friends. It is a comfort to get out of the wearisome sickroom for a while, and have a holy day. March 28 Now I begin for the fourth time — And this shall go on to the end of the page or sure it will never be done. Well then, this is to go by a quick boat to Marseilles and thence swiftly to London and thence to Liverpool, and it will reach you about the 15 April won't it — which I remember very well though it seems a hundred years ago — and Crowe bringing me the sham flowers ; and the party in the Brown House yon- THACKERAY'S LETTERS der — dear old friendly Brown House — and Miss Clark's marriage-day that fatal day and Miss Lucy crying, and Miss Sarah tripping away to her coach, and the tea afterwards and ever so many thoughts pleasant and dismal. Write to me, to Young Street, Kensington, by the very fir^ ship please. Tell me good news of every one. Shall I come and see you in the fall.^ Can't you coax Felt on the part of his Societies to make me an offer.? You and Mrs. Snelling might take him in hand showing how popu- lar the series of le6lures which I intend would surely be. Men of the world ! Chesterfield, Whar- ton, Walpole, Brummell, what fun and satire! what an opportunity for young men to learn about Euroapian manners! Depend on it the ladies would be the be§l negociators in this mat- ter: and I would sooner have your help than the smartest man in Wall Street. — I do feel 20 years older than when I was in America: and 3 months of ill health and gloom in this charm- ing climate have made me about 70. 1 used to have some reminiscences and feelings of youth left when I was 42, now I am near 43 and no grand- C 114] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY father can be more glum. I sleep like a monk with a death's head in my room ! "Come," says the cheerful monitor, "rouse yourself. Finish Newcomes — Get a few thousand pounds more, my man, for those daughters of yours — For your time is short, and the sexton wants you. You have been in this world long enough. You have had enough cham pagne andfeaSting — travelling, novel-reading, novel- writing, yawning, grum- bling, falling in love and the like. You are too old for these amusements and what other occupa- tion are you fit for.'' Get 9.oo£ a year apiece for your girls and their poor mother, and then come to me ! " So be it. Is n't it a cheerful letter ^ The other day at dinner, my neighbour ( with a cer- tain twang in her pretty nose by w*? I recognized my beloved Republic ) says to her neighbour — " Do you know Howadji ? He 's going to be mar- ried to Miss (I forget) of Boston." Is this true.? Give the swain my compliments — I wish I could take them to him to the Century tomorrow night. Yesterday I was the only Englishman at the table d'hote. 5 French, 4 Germans, 24 Americans — and amongSl them, ah such loafers ! Our nations THACKERAY'S LETTERS did not mingle in the leaft in Rome, nor do they here. I made friends with the Storys, poor peo- ple, they had ju§l lo^ their son, and the laiSl I hear of them is that they have had to stop be- tween this and Rome in a town close on the Pon- tine marshes with their remaining child struck down by a fever which she has had for 4 months paSl. It has been an awful season for illness here — Here I am, growing lively again! The paper will not hold much more grumbling and mop- ing, but there 's space enough left to tell you my dear friend how afFe6lionately I remember you all, and how sincerely I am yours. W. M. T. What a comfort to think the next letter will be straight to Kensington about 1 May ! XXX 36 Onslow Square, Brompton May 18, 1854 NOW it is Miss Lucy's turn to have a little note. Miss Lucy's turn indeed? It is a mile and three days off her birthday when she Cue] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY ought to have had one, and do you call this fag end Miss Lucy's turn? B. wouldn't go on in this way, or would go off very quickly if he did — Well — but the truth is my dear (Dont you frown, and clench your hands and stamp so ) the truth is this very day I have written 14 notes on business — No not 14 — 13 — (One was to Misses A. & M. Thackeray telling them to come to Boulogne from Paris on Sunday W: their Papa would be in waiting there to fetch them ) but the re^ were all about other people's business al- most because you see this is the fir^ day I have got into the new house, and there is ever so much to write about, and anything more dismally un- comfortable than the new house, of w*? only 2 rooms are ready as yet, mortal man cant cone — I wont go on with this sentence w"? isn't true: the fa6l is there are 50000 houses about London a great deal more uncomfortable. I wonder whether the pickles and peaches directed to Young St. ( where I 've left no ser- vant ) and about w"? your dear mother writes me word in her letter ju^ received, will find their way from Kensington to Brompton .? I feel some- THACKERAY'S LETTERS how as if they were going to escape me and that the rogues to whom they are entrusted will take advantage of the change of residence and confiscate my edibles. They dont know how I value 'em and that there are no peaches in all the world so good as those in my eyes. And so Sarah has increased 20 lb in weight and looks ever so handsome again ! Here comes a ring of the bell on which perhaps my future life depends. Who do you think it was.^" — It was a Gov- erness & Companion — and there came in such a simpering ogling sighing sentimental spinier that at the end of 1-2 an hour's silly conversa- tion I was glad to get rid of her. To console her I told her I was afraid she was too handsome: that did n't seem to strike her so I tried her in French in which she made such an awful igs- posure of herself, that the poor thing saw it was all over and curtsied out of the room. Ah poor thing ! there she has come 5 miles in her new gown, new bonnet, heSt shawl to find a glum middle aged gentleman smoking a cigar and to get her conge — I mu§l take the German lady, thats the end of it. Did I write you about the Ger- TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY man lady ? In the governess hunt t' other day I lighted upon a school called a German college for ladies, so nice, neat, pretty, well ordained, with such a nice mistress over it that had I known of it 2 years since my girls should have gone there during my trip to a certain country and by this time would have spoken German, known hi§lory, and every kind of ology, and been perfe6lly accomplished instead of being utterly ignorant as they are now of everything except one thing, the art and science of lov- ing their old father. I know 2 young ladies in New York who have that accomplishment too — who love their father I mean, and my girls' father too for the matter of that — dont they a little? What rambling rubbish this is ! Do you know why I go on writing it though it is 7:30 o'clock ; though I know its stupid ; though I am as ungry as an unter on the ills — why, because tomorrow morning early I start for Boulogne: tonight I mu^ go for the fir^ time this season into the bo mondy Lady Ashburton & Lady Granville and if I dont write now that debt I owe my dear kind Lucy Baxter will be left over for 1 o THACKERAY'S LETTERS days certain & perhaps 20 days uncertain. I wish all my other debts were paid. But O the uphol- sterers, the carpeters, the Tenderers the look- ing glass people, on coming into a new house! — O their bills their bills! So I will shut up my letter — and I give my hearty good love to all of you to the old folks and to S., L., W., G., L. , O and to Mrs. Sn-ll-ng and her family, and my beSt remembrances to any one who recollefts Your afft old friend W. M. THACKERAY XXXI August 3, 1855 MY DEAR KIND Mrs. Baxter: I havc only one minute to write and thank you for your offer; but we have debated, the girls and I, and agreed with very heavy hearts that it is be^ they stay behind and take care of Granny and Colonel Newcome. My passage is taken for the 1 3th — How glad I shall be if that little arrangement I proposed when I wrote from Paris of a meet at Bo§lon C 120;] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY and a visit to Niagara could come off! But what comes of my letters ? I am sure more than two or three mu^ have been lo§l. I bring out a good natured, good looking sim- ple lad, son of my neighbour Baron Marochetti — I saw him 2 days ago standing on his door step and said out of window " Maurice, will you come to America with me?" and it was agreed in§tanter. He is very good looking, and will dance at the balls. It is hard to part, but O it will be very happy to see you all! W. M. T. XXXII 36 Onslow Sq., Brompton Friday, October 5, i855 MY DEAR Friends: What a ninny I was to order you to BoSlon. Do you know I thought BoSlon was much nearer Buffalo than your village is ; and that is why I asked you to meet me. How kind it was of you to say you 'd come ! But for the satisfa6lion of seeing you a day or two sooner, I mu§l n't bring you hun- r 121 3 THACKERAY'S LETTERS dreds of miles out of your way. I shall see your faces or your letter at the Tremont House at BoHon, shan't I? I have done George I, II, III and can afford a day or two at Niagara. I shake you all by the hand. I give the girls fair warn- ing of what I intend to do when I see them. I wish I was taking my own dear women along with me but we have debated the matter many a time, and they agree it is be§t to remain with their Granny. God bless all sick persons, young children, all travellers by land or by water. Tell Putnam to keep a nice room and one for my secretary — Wylly will be a good friend for him — and so farewell, till D V we meet. W. M. T. XXXIII November, 1855 HOW are you all.? I have been at work all day till this minute — and should so like to come to dinner. But had n't I better after dinner here now — come up stairs and reread George I.? Yes indeed — & so God bless you all is all I send by way of good morrow. C 122] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XXXIV Tremo7it, ii Dec", 1855 MY DEAR Friend. I feel as if I was doing wrong though I am doing right. I lay awake for hours that night when Baxter said he wished me to come to N. Y. for tomorrow, & thought of your kindness & regard and that I ought & would do anything to please you. But an engagement was made for me here for Wednes- day evening, another on Thursday. Ought a man with a chill and fever on him to break a contra6l, travel 9 hours and 9 hours next day to see a pretty lass made happy } You would be more angry if I were ill than I should be my- self; and I think the chances were againSl my well-ness if I had done those 2 journies — After four hours I am feverish, anxious, and obliged to lie down. No. My duty was to stay away. I heartily pray God bless Sarah and make her happy. I heard such a fine chara6ler of her hus- band from Mrs. P. ye§lerday. She Mrs. P. was so changed, improved, happy fied by her marriage that it did one good to see her. May your girl C 123 n THACKERAY'S LETTERS be so too. I know your heart and time are full and send only a shake of the hand and the kind- est, kindest wishes for you all from W- M. T. My dear Sarah. I mu^ not come; but say with all my heart God bless you and your husband. I hope he will be my friend and that I always may be AfFeftionately yours W. M. THACKERAY XXXV Tremont, Saturday 15 De(f, 1855 MY DEAR Mr. Baxter: I think you will be pleased to hear that on the Wednes- day I got a fine attack of spasms, ( part of which I was obliged to bear grinning through the com- pliments of a Quaker family. ) — that they came on much worse in the night, & that I was in bed all yesterday in considerable pain having to put off my le6lure at Providence. Now suppose I had got this attack on Wednes- day at New York.? I should have loSl that night's le6lure — Thursday's, Friday's & Satur- C 124:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY day's (for I 'm so weak now that I can scarce see the paper, & you see its a very different thing being carried 5 minutes in a coach to a ledlure room, & having to travel 9 hours before getting to it) — and then how annoyed Baxter would have been that I should have lo§l 4 days and the proceeds thereof for the sake of a cere- mony which I would as soon see as see one of my children have a tooth out ! It was a com- fort to me when I was hit, to think of this and to sigh out " Well, now Baxter will see I was right." Is that fatal day well over? are the tears dried, and has the pretty bride left you ? I dont know that I want to know about it. What a blow it mu^ have been to you two ! — to the fa- ther especially — I am certain I shall never quite forgive my daughters for marrying — a very reprehensible sentiment — did not you fall in love.? did not you marry ? — is it not written that a woman shall leave all and follow 8cc? yes — this is very well, but we retain our opinions, at leaSl I do. And so now it is done and done, I don't intend quite to forgive Sarah — It is the highest compliment that I can pay her. . . . THACKERAY'S LETTERS At la§l I have letters from the girls, with 2 more from that po§lma§ter at Paris who can send his letters, confound him, unpaid though not the children's. They are happy— pretty well— busy going out quite enough— Old GC and Granny doing their be§l to make their old house pleasant to those young ones — I wonder whether I shall suddenly rush back upon them as on a former occasion? T' other day I got an anonymous let- ter containing a newspaper article having the au- thor's own ribaldry — Good God, thinks I, why put myself in a position to suffer this kind of thing? What amount of dollars can compensate a man for this insult? To be sure I have had anonymous letters at home. It is as well that I stopped this maundering letter here yesterday — continued to be unwell all day and all night — certainly could not have le6lured laSt night or tonight had my illness befallen at New York — so we mu§l console ourselves once more for an absence which renders no one inconsolable. This is nonsense — my head is so weak that I can hardly write sense — I can read though and enjoy the egotism of quiet — have been reading TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY the Life of Goethe, the old rogue who at 75 had a deep passion for a girl and was severely wounded — the girl "was sent back to school." If you could see me now you would see me feeling a deep passion because I can't get a pen to write nor paper to suit me, not smooth paper, nor rough, nor gold pen, nor quill. When we are ill what selfish drivellers some of us men are ! This was to be all about you, about Sarah, about the marriage, about poor Lucy's grief — and its all about me and my little twopenny aches and pains. Never mind, your heart on your side is so unreasonably soft that you (there! it wont work though its mended ! ) that if I tell you I am unwell you will straightway begin to forget your own woes and so I do a little good by writ- ing. But write me about matters please. O my! what twinges I had ye^erday as I was le6tur- ing ! No one would have thought from the sweet serenity of my countenance what hagonies were going on within ! C 127] THACKERAY'S LETTERS XXXVI Gilmore House, Baltimore Friday, Jan ii, 1856 MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter: The welcome handwriting found me at Philadelphia; and now it is Baltimore and 6 days later. We assemble very meagre audiences at Baltimore. The Opera Company has chosen my nights ; and, small blame to them, the pretty girls of B. prefer the greater attra6lion — I am pleased with the anger of my Felt here, Mr. Bradenbaugh, that our room should be 1-2 full, and our audience away to the other entertainment. They are 1 00 in their company ; wanting bread many of them, and shall I be angry, because they take a little of the butter ofF my enormous loaf .? The bitter weather too fights against us. So it did at Phila- delphia; nevertheless we did very well there, and the laSl audience was proh-digious. I have not been very well, and in these fits become ex- ceedingly glum and the thoughts of rushing home at such times overpoweringly strong. But one goes home and lo the blue devils salute you [128] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY on the other side of the water ! I found excellent company, kindness, and hospitality at Philadel- phia — the same to a minor extent here — That going out to suppers after le6lure, when one is tired, sick, hating society and longing to go to bed, is awful. Twice I spoke \a§t night to the very pretty lady of the house — once about ter- rapins, that they were good ; once about the old china — that was all. Why did she ask me? what will she not think about the conversation of these literary men ? Yet her husband would have been sadly disappointed if I had not gone. I wish I could do kind a6ls with a good grace — These are my news. I have read Macaulay Vol. III. — it did not amuse me so much as Prescott, or near so much as the fir^ 2 volumes. He has been sick too ; his hand is more languid than in the firSl part of the work. I thought I saw death in that poor boy's face the day I dined with the good S's — A melan- choly appealing look in his eyes scared me — and now they are closed and the end come for him. Their loving hearts will be awfully wounded. Before these griefs one can't say anything — Z 129] THACKERAY'S LET^FERS Take ofFyour hat and let the funeral pass — God help the mourners. It is the knowing a few good folks like these, that makes me love this country of yours. Why should you not go to Bo§lon for a while, and break down those fevers of your dear children .? About Young's country of River- dale they are unknown ; but there good do6lors of course are not at hand. Some time — a good bit hence — I shall write to that lady you speak of — but now I can't, there 's a something be- tween us — I might sit with her for hours alone, and should not be able to open my mouth — any more than to the lady of the terrapins la§t night. When my girls do that inevitable, natural, right- eous thing — I know it will take me years to be reconciled to it — ... we muSt take each other and ourselves with our peculiarities — about w"? there is no reasoning, and w'? there 's no chan- ging. ... I have been chewing the cud since I wrote this; and turned the pages, and labori- ously put in stops, crossed the t's, and dotted the i's — I began to take a liking to a very nice wo- man at Philadelphia, widow of poor Henry Reed lo^ in the Arftic — sad, plaintive, gentle, sensi- C 130 J TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY ble, sensitive — and there 's another there Mrs. Neilson, as bright as sunshine — with a brave old father ( Lewis ) immensely sympathetic to me. Here is Bradenbaugh a clever man — rough dia- mond — Mr. Wallace a very elegant scholar and gentleman, Mr. J. P. Kennedy, exceedingly pleasant, natural and good-natured ; and he has introduced me to a club — O Gods such a dreary club ! such a desperate dinner ! such a stupid man that zvouldtalk ! What rubbish is this to fill sheets with ? — I send you all a hearty greeting and to the S's my very be§t regards — I don't know what I am going to do next. Have made no plans — Am I going South or no.^ Good bye my dear friend, and hail all at the B. H. and its mas- ter. I am always yours w. M. T. XXXVII Savatinah, 17 Feb, 1856 MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter : A little note from Lucy at Charleston reached me la^ night, and told me what I was very sorry but not sur- prised to hear that in the mid^ of all your watch- er 131 '2 THACKERAY'S LETTERS ings and cares and nursings you had fallen ill too — surely there mu§l be some malaria hang- ing round that Second Avenue corner, and you should all move away for a season at lea§t and get into a wholesomer air. How^ well your girls ( our girls they almost seem to me ) looked at Charleston! Sally in her blue dress and lace — the 10,000^ worth w^ I gave her and the 10,- 000,000 w*? her father gave her — looked as handsome as a fairy Princess going to the ball. I liked her husband more thoroughly every day I saw him. I thought her Papa-in-law a fine courteous old gentleman — and his daughter-in- law happy, improved, bearing her new name and station with a great deal of good sense and cheerful graciousness ; and as for Lucy, I muSl tell you that there was a very strong Lucy party in Charleston, and that all of us young fel- lows agreed in admiring her looks ( w*? I fear is the firSt thing we young rogues think of) and her sweet natural manners which win every- body. F. H. & I got on by feeling and express- ing a fellow-loathing for a certain person whose name I daresay you can guess. And yet vulgar C 132 ] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY as that Individual is I rather Hke h — bless me I was going to mention the individual's sex! — and am glad that Sarah should be kind to the party in queiSlion. I write only petty rubbish — I have nothing to say. The wearisome le6luring business goes on, the little heaps of dollars roll in gently, and every week makes the girls about 500? richer ; and almost every week brings me in a delightful letter from them. At Baltimore I did not know whether I was going to strike for the Well or not and had very nearly done so because Jno Crerar was so pressing. At Rich- mond I had a pleasant little time a very pleasant little time — Went to the Virginia University in the snow then to Charle^on then to, let me see, to Augu§la then on here to my friend Low's house delightful for its comfort and quiet and decorated with a pretty little wife and baby since la§l I was here. And I have a passport for Ha- vannah in my desk and should have gone thither on Tuesday had not money-grabbing chances offered at Macon Columbus probably Montgom- ery; then Mobile and New Orleans. Then the Mississippi and St. Louis and Cincinnati and who C 133 J THACKERAY'S LETTERS knows what other places on my way to New York? — You will have the snow removed by April, won't you? whereabouts please God I shall see Second Avenue again. I see and observe no more and like the hfe no better than I did ; but hold out my hat for the dollars perseveringly, and am determined to go on resolutely singing my dreary old song. Suppose I am stupid and bored, what then? A few months boredom may well be borne for the sake of 2 such good girls as mine. At every place I find kind and plea- sant people and am a little melancholy when the time comes to leave them. So let us trudge on till the Summer comes, and the bag is pretty full. You will give very kind remembrances to the Snellings for me. You will and mu§l go out of the Brown House, and set up poor dear little George on his legs again. What a year of trials you have had! It was a comfort to see Lucy smiling and being happy & getting well. Let the house; that is my solemn injun6lion ; and get well all of you. A letter at New Orleans I think would find me — or send one to J. G. King's, who will forward to me that is when I and they know who C 134 ] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY is to be my correspondent in that city. Hark! There come Low and his pretty wife from even- ing church. I went in the morning, and have so much of lay sermons in the week, that one (oc- casionally ) on the Sabbath suffices. O how I have relished the quiet here though! the snug room, the clean bed, the absence of noise, the hours to one's self — no not quite. Did n't I send 7 let- ters to England ye§lerday ^ Good bye ; my very be§t regards to all. You know that I am affec- tionately yours w. M. T. XXXVIII Wednesday, May 7, 1856 ( On board the Baltic with the pilot on board. ) I TRY to write on the la^ day of a horribly uncomfortable voyage, ( I was going into a catalogue of its sicknesses &c but what 's the good ? ) and to wish you all a farewell and God bless you for which I had n't time or heart as I was leaving New York. The process of saying Good bye you know is horrible to m e — as I shook kind hands and walked out of hospitable doors 1:135:] THACKERAY'S LETTERS at Philadelphia for the la§t time I felt quite sad and guilty as it were. Where was the need of prolonging these adieux? So Friday 25th as I walked down Broadway seeming very bright, warm and cheery I went with my usual sudden impetus straight to Collins's office and was off the next day before I knew I was gone. So good- bye Brown House ( though I 've seen but little of it this time and, Bon Dieu, how dismal it looked when I called one day and no one was at home ! ) Goodbye Mrs. Snelling, goodbye kind friends at Bo§lon — well, if I had stopped, and taken my place for a month before hand and gone the round of farewells, what a hang dog time I should have had ! We had a dinner at Houston St. the la§t evening — what forced jokes, what dreary songs, what deadly lively jollification ! But that hoSt of mine, W. D. Robinson, what a good fellow it is ! how hospitable how kind and soft hearted! — 1 know I shall feel America sick ere many years are over, and be for paying you all a visit. Luckily 2 days before I went off I happened to go into Tiffany's, and there saw that pretty little sulky teapot &c — which I thought I could not better [ 136] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY in England and ordered to be sent as a i ath of December token to S. S. H. God bless her and all her belongings. . . . Next thing I hope to hear is of you making little wee caps &c &c. I am sure you had a fine time in the South — and only 3 nights ago dreamed that Lucy was engaged to an elderly physician there. Is she.'' I was to go to Mrs. Snelling one Sunday the \sL§t Sunday in N. Y. but was so unwell that I couldn'tleavethe house — please acceptmy apol- ogies Mrs. Snelling, — and the week rolled away and on Saturday I had run. There is a letter for my mother in the poSt now, it only reached Liv- erpool la§l night in the Cambria which sailed from Boston 3 days before us and does n't con- tain a word about my home-coming of course — how should it.'' as I did n't know myself. I am unwell, have had one of my be§l at- tacks on board, haven't been well a single day after the fir^t and am going to lay myself up either in London or Paris, and see if this crazy old hull of mine can be patched up & made sea- worthy again. The be§l thing I can do for the next 3 months is to devote myself to being ill — THACKERAY'S LETTERS and then we will see what fresh work is to be done — and then we will go on working and being ill and so forth & so forth until — There are 3 yellow-gilled Popish prie^lings in the cabin now — They know all about kingdom come & have the keys of heaven in their portmanteaus — yet why did one of 'em faint almoSl the other night because it blew a little hurrykin ? What numbers of gates to heaven have we built? and suppose after all there are no walls? But this is a mys- tery. The Rev'd Osgood, the Rev'd Hawkes, the Rev'd Hughes have the keeping of it — I am come, twaddling in the dark almo^ — to the end of my page. Good bye and God bless you my dear friend. May your children prosper and the fonde^ of all mothers on your side of the water long be happy with them. I am theirs and yours and Baxter's ever W. M. T. C1383 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XXXIX 36 Onslow Sqr., Brompton June 19, 1856 MY DEAR Friend: It is a comfort to see your kind hand again, and I like you for not liking me to go away as I did in that sud- den natural manner — about ten years ago it seems to me now. But to come away was be§l. I have done what I threatened, given up all busi- ness & pleasure, and am do6loring myself and bettering myself every week I hope. It was quite time, & my Do6lor here says that he trembled for me and the risk I ran in going to America. I have had plenty of chill and fever since I re- turned ( don't you see how my hand trembles in writing.'' ) but have had no attack for 3 weeks now, and believe they will diminish as I get cured of my other affli6lions. What a bore for my poor Nanny ! I have been able to take her to very few parties, and come away at one o'clock from the one or two balls we have been at ju§t when the fun is at its beSl. She comes off or does n't go at all, quite good-naturedly & says " You know I C 139] THACKERAY'S LETTERS should n't like the balls near so much if I went oftener." She is very much liked and so is little Miss Min thank God — that is among§l my old fogeyfied set — the men ( & women too as she is no beauty ) praising her good humour and good manners. Not one word of work has W. M. T. done since he came home, nor will hefora month or so more until his health is better. And I have been able to have no entertainments at home, which annoys me, for there have been some Americans here to whom I should have liked to hold out a hand of fellowship — but what can a fellow do perpetually menaced with chill &c &c.? So the quarrel between us is stayed for the pre- sent, by the humble pie we have eaten. I would not have eaten it ; for that kind of humility never will appease your Anti-English over the water or be underwood by them. O me! its dreadful to read of these unchristian squabbles. I fear I 'm not near so good an American as I was after the firSl visit — no doubt all that abuse rankles in my heart, which is very generous I believe but dreadful unforgiving. Ashburton told a friend of mine that"! was as tender as a woman but [ 140 J TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY as cruel as Robespierre." I wonder whether it's true? I wonder why I prattle this rubbish to you? I hope you'll see my new friend W. D. Robin- son sometimes — sucha good jolly soul ! Him and you ( but very few ) of those I know I value true. You don't tell me what I should like to have heard about S. S. H. I broke my vow and went and dined at Sturgis's yeSlerday, sitting next Chevalier WykofF's Miss Gamble. I found her a very well behaved, clean looking, nice little oldish body — But I had n't the heart to go to Mr. Peabody's great fete at the Crystal Palace — which everybody says was the handsomest feaSt ever seen. You don't mind my writing stupid letters ? I pass my days skulking about at clubs away from my family ; and growing more silent every day. Charles I fear is spoiled by America. He is discontented with his position and I suspe6l aspires to be a flunkey in a family of superior rank. The la§t, the very la§t, of my loves, Jane Ingilby by name, was married la^ week, she be- ing 25, to a great lawyer of 6 — with 10,000^ a year — and now my emptied heart has only its paternal chambers occupied. What more dull- [ 141 n THACKERAY'S LETTERS ness can I put in this comer? Only kindest re- membrances to 286, and your siSter, and sin- cere^ regards from yours ever w. M. T. XL 36 Onslow Sq., Brompton, London 12 — 13 July, 1856 DO you remember this handwriting? Since circum^ances have occurred, you have not seen it much. I write to nobody now, that's the fa6l, except a dozen or two of brief busi- ness letters during the week. . . . Don't you think more of the little personage whose . . . advent has been announced to me than of scores of old friends pleasures & what not? We take up with the business of our lives when the time comes — May your nursery be thronged & merry! I am writing on my back, rather ill in bed. Have been ill ever since I came home, forced to give up the pomps & vanities of this wicked world and all the sinful lu§ls of the season — am greatly better though, and fancy that I am going to be better still. All that melancholy you n 142 ] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY remember, that glum carelessness of life, &c came from bodily ailment and not mental, as we used romantically to fancy. lam greatly improved A PEN SKETCH BY THACKERAY AMONG THE BAXTER SOUVENIRS OF THE NOVELIST of my ailment and with the illness the melan- choly goes — next year I shall be as jolly as 20 — perfeftly reconciled to life — interested even in trivialities let us hope — trumps, politics, what there is for dinner, or what our neighbour has — I have been 21^ months in London now with- out doing the littlest bit of work except do6lor- ing myself. Poor Anny has lo^ her season and C 143 J THACKERAY'S LETTERS we have been able to go but to 2 fine parties — I had an ague attack after both so that she is reconciled to staying away. . . . And that I se- riously think is all my news. I am dead: go no- where, do, think, write, nothing. Shall I not be§l burn this letter instead of sending it all the way to the Second Avenue? Shall I ever come back to you again ? Not as a public performer. I won't go through the degrad- ing ordeal of press abuse again . Those scoundrels managed laSl time to offend and insult the mo§t friendly stranger that ever entered your country or quitted it — I like my dear old friends ju^ as well as ever, mind you — but the public non pas. At this jun6lure yesterday the Dr made his appearance; and now it is Sunday morning 13 July, and though it's only 10 o'clock I have had my breakfaSl these 3 hours, and read 3 papers, and 3 pamphlets about the Prince of Wales (my favorite George IV ) and what on earth have I got to say to fill up these 2 pages ? The George lec- tures are much better liked here than they were with you that is if I may judge from a petit co- mite to whom I have read 3 of them — The ter- TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY rible Venables came to the fir^l and Minny of whose criticism I am more afraid than of any one's — V spoke very highly of No. i . Old Lady Morley cried at No. 3 — U Morley who be- longed to the Court was not in the lea§l scanda- lized — it was evident in a word that the people were amused. I read the leftures straight out from the American M.S. w'' your people said I should not dare to read in England, & should have given them in public but that I was not sure of my health, and thought the be^ thing I could do was to go into hospital. I am now all but set up again: and when we're well Laud! wont we be happy & have a lark ! Those girls are the comfort of my life that's a fa6l — that affair I once talked to you about was all non- sense. The young man was in London the other day, I asked him to dinner, — & first told Minny who laughed & then told Anny who laughed too — their romantic old Granny was the founder of the story — Do you laugh & think I am hum- bugged.? No — if there had been anything in it, I am sure my girl W? have told me. Little Amy Crowe lives with us still and is so good and n 145 n THACKERAY'S LETTERS gentle that a6lually nobody in my family is jea- lous of her. . . . Mr. Charles Pearman has not resumed his livery on his return to his native country but dresses in black and is much greater man. The Ticknors are here, its very hard that I cannot make a feaSt for them — but the D^ wont let me, & I save in dinners what I pay in fees. Indeed our little house is very pretty. I dont see a gayer one anywhere and if a man is to be ill why there cant be a pleasanter room than this in w'? I 'm writing, quiet, bright, with a beautiful garden and green avenue before it, such as W. B. ASlor could n't have in New York, with all his money. And these are my news. Madam. I hope you liked the teapottykin &c. they were so nice to my mind that I thought there was no use in going farther for them than Broadway. I send my very beSl regards to your husband, and my love to my dear kind friends yonder — Whilst I am writing, the girls come in, and I say "whom do you think I am writing to?" Miss Min tosses up her head & says "to Sally Bax — " Good bye my dear S. S. H. says Yours afFt'ly always w. m. t. [146:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XLI 36 Onslow Sq., Brompton 2 November, 1856 MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter: I mu§t try and write you a little letter from my bed on my back where I am lying with one of my old attacks of spasms. (O — O — Oho! he shuts his eyes and groans during an interval) I mu§t be well tomorrow. Have n't I to go 400 miles to lefture at Edinburgh.'' — and with a grim face I congratulate you my dear Grand papa and Grand- mamma upon the happy event w^ you announce to me. . . . May the little man prosper! may his little successors be happy and many ! may he never inflidl nor suffer murder in a Georgian Railway Car : may the fashion of applauding the bludgeoners of unoffending Senators not be con- tinued in his time ! ( Aha ! quite a little twinge ! ) I dont know what to tell you about my where and whatabouts for 3 months pa§f . They have been very unsatisfa6fory. At fir§t we went to Spa in Belgium which was very satisfaft ory and if I did not write any of my book I thought a C147:] THACKERAY'S LETTERS great deal of it. Then in evil hour I went to Aix- la-Chapelle and fell ill as at the present, then to Dusseldorf on the Rhine where hearing of the death of my mother's sister-in-law at Paris ( an- other Mrs. Carmichael Smyth ) and concluding that my dear old mother would naturally come to comfort the widower & affli6led we hastened to Paris. But no mother. Her presence was not wanted, the old Major liked the place where he was and stayed 3 weeks longer — So we had to stay those 3 weeks, and 2 weeks more with the old folks when they did come back. Then we came to London to prepare for our Scotch tour — we were to go to delightful country-houses — httle Miss Min was to come out for the nonce — and made her fir§t appearance at Russell Stur- gis's in a nice white frock and a nice little two- penny diamond cross that a certain Papa bought — when lo! comes Charles Pearman from Lon- don withatelegraphic message from Paris" Your mother is ill. Come." Away we go, 4 of us, next morning — We find her — not very ill but the old man in a prodigious alarm & her too — we have one homoeopathic do6lor after another,one 1:148] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY servant after another to sleep by her — at la^ in a fright she sends the homceopathi^ls to the rightabout, gets rapidly well under the Regu- lars, but the girls pleasant party to Scotland is broken up & they mu§l stay at Paris and nurse their invalid. I come away & fall ill here too — And I think this is an account of a blundering, unsatisfaftory, uncomfortable campaign. Stop it 's not over yet — In my absence all my proof sheets and all your brother Oliver's circulars are whisked away & burned. I cant help it. Theres no use scolding. He muit send me some more which I shall get on my return from Scotland please God — and then I mu§t go back to the old folks in Paris for he wont come here and they are not fit to be left to themselves. In all these botherations the girls are behaving like trumps — take their disappointment with the sweetest good humour — and we try to do our be§t for keeping the commandment w"? promises us that our days shall be long in the land. Is n't this a cross grained dismal odious letter.? Not a word of that book is written though I have spent hours & weeks of pains on it — never mind. C 149 ] THACKERAY'S LETTERS There is time enough & to spare. As Mahomet wont move, the mountain muSl go to him. I muSl shut my house up — and stay for some months at Paris at any rate and, to this end, have refused a score of engagements to le6lure. Well, I hope I shall never write you a spasmodic letter again ! and O Massy ! I hope I shall be well for Tuesday 4th ! Salute your little grandchild for me, and his aunt and uncles and his papa & mamma & his grand aunts & uncles and everything that is yours among which please to count always Madam, your faithful but uncomfortable at present w. M. T. XLII Bradford, Manchester, Dec" 10-12, 1856 I REMEMBER how near a certain anniver- sary is and must wish you many happy anni- versaries. The letter which you wrote to me ju§l before the birth of your boy was such a damp one that I did n't care to reply to it. . . . That was before the birth of the boy. Let us hope life has other interests and quite a new charm for you. C 150] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY What have I been doing since 06lober? (when I returned home and found your letter & your mother's) — have scarcely been at home since that time, kept in perpetual motion by the ill- ness of my dear old mother and the botherations attendant on it — and since Novemberneverquiet with the le6lures — w"? are a much greater suc- cess here than in America — as great even pecu- niarily . People knowing the subje6l better, more familiar with the allusions, &c, like the stuff — I am glad for my part that this should be the opinion — for I know in America it was thought I had brought them an inferior article — glass beads as it were for the natives. But no news- paper in this country will say like Bennett that any young man would sit down in their office and write such lectures in an evening — I 'm obliged to skip over because I 've no blotting pa- per — and I such numbers of letters dailyto write — 90 a week at the very lea^l — that 's why I have returned to the old slanting hand in place of the familiar upright — slanting is much quicker. My mother has been very unwell and even more frightened than hurt. Hence my dear girls THACKERAY^S LETTERS who were ju^ ready to start to the North with me, were obliged to forego their pleasure, & stay with her & nurse her their bei§l — ( we were telegraphed over out of a pleasant party at Rus- sell Sturgis's who has a palace of a house near London. ) and we were to have gone to a half dozen fine houses and Miss Min rather prema- turely to have made her entree into this wicked world, but things have been otherwise ruled. There is my hiSlory for months pa§l. My spirits are very much better — though I get those fierce attacks of illness still — am juH out of bed from one of them w*? prevented my le6luring la§l night & to-night. Think that at the end of next year if I work I shall be worth 20,000^! — Its as much as I want — 10,000 apiece for the girls is enough for any author's daughters — and then when I am independent what shall we do ? Hush — perhaps have a try at politics for which I dont care now — but one mu§l do something and when you begin to play you get interested in the game — I have taken share in the Transatlantic Telegraph — I felt glad somehow to contribute to a thread that shall tie our two countries to- c 153:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY gether — for though I don't love America I love Americans with all my heart — and I dare say you know what family taught me to love them. What a hideous place this is I am staying at — what kind people everywhere! What a beau- tiful woman came to see me to-day with her husband! The faithful evidently multiply — and — I find as usual that I dont care one single phigg. Praise does not produce the lea§t elation, censure a little captiousness but that 's all. At Edinburgh I was hissed about Mary Queen of Scots — and rather amused — I was not familiar with the Scotch, as I could not be except in cer- tain families with you — as soon as I got back to England began to sympathize with my com- pany again, and passed all la§l week at Hull among§l traders in a very hearty, homely, com- fortable society. A Jew there on Sunday gave me such a quantity of Port wine that though I did not like it and knew the end of it I drank and am ill in consequence. Wonderful conse- quence of Port wine! I could not help telling the son of the house that one of the guests, a Jew too, was an infernal Snob, in which the lad C 153] THACKERAY'S LETTERS agreed, and w*? was utterly true but why say it? . . . And here there came in strangers and then more strangers and then a friend to dinner and then bed time and then early morning to Lpool, and dinner, le6ture, supper there and now it is 12 December — She is receiving com- pany in the brown house in diamonds & lace and what a fine supper there is in the dining- room and what flowers on the stairs and what a smart new dress mamma has got on, and how pale poor Lucy looks as she peeps out of her room and ju§t goes back to chill & fever! Well, well, all this was a year ago — but did n't I think of it this morning as I lay awake and heard the wind roaring in the same house from which I embarked for America both times! Good bye my dear — God bless you — I 've only time and spirits to say that Haven't I written lo letters already — and aint I unwell still and is n't there the le6lure to do to-night — and O it will be pleasant to see the girls next week! Mamma may read this fir^ & send it on Think of the Cunarder having to put back ! I 've took i ,000^ share in the telegraph line ; we '11 hold each C 154 J TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY other by the hand then. Good bye again my dear Sarah & God speed you & your husband & child. XLIII 36 Onslow Square November 1, 1857 But begun yesterday at the Athenseum where I found your letter. THESE are pretty reproaches indeed Ladies ! I should like to know who wrote la§t to both of you.'' I flatter myself its I who am the injured party — though that it may be months ago since I wrote I confess. And I have been thinking of you all the time of this panic and actually was too frightened to write. La§l Mon- day I came home to the girls and announced that the carriage and one mu§l be sold ( we keep a carriage and one, a very pretty open carriage and a brougham if you please ) that Jeames mu^ certainly go, if not Chawls too ( Mr. Chawls is such a great man now that he cant do without a young man in livery to help him ) that all the American savings were gone to smash, includ- C 155 J THACKERAY'S LETTERS ing the 500^ from Harper Brothers for the Virginians. It is astonishing how well we took our ruin. Next day however things began to brighten again ; and it appears we are not done for, as yet at lea§l. What shall I tell? I have ju§l come back from Oxford after that little eleftion- eering freak. I should have won but for the Sab- bath question, and on that point wont truckle or change to get any possible promotion or glory — and am quite as well out of Parliament as in. Tell Sally my fits of blue devils continue — that I have fallen in love with nobody else and intend to dont — that nobody is come after my girl who is the delight of her father when he sees her. I have had the parents with me for the laSl 3 months: or with the girls, rather, my visits be- ing only occasional. I dont think the Virginians is good yet, though it has taken me immense deal of trouble, but I know it will be good at the end. I tremble for the poor publishers who gave me 30o£ a number — I dont think they can afford it and shall have the melancholy duty of disgorg- ing. Sure I think this is all my news. But I think about America a many and many times and in so [156;] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY friendly a manner that I am perfe6lly certain I shall be walking Broadway again ere long. Do write and tell me that you are not severely hurt in the panic. I took a share in the Transatlantic Telegraph, deeming it a sort of duty, but that Oxford election co^ me so much that I was obliged to sell the Transatlantic share, so that that money was so much saved. Only 2 people of all those I canvassed had ever heard of my name. It wouldn't be so in America, would it.-^ It was a good lesson to my vanity. My summer trip was confined to a house at Brighton and a little excursion to Homburg & Paris. The girls rode hack horses and bathed and were happy. My mother who has been ail- ing for more than a year has improved very much during her 3 months visit to us. I am rather better in health, I think, but becoming more si- lent and selfish every day. Women know how to dissemble when they are bored, and appear cheerful though they are yawning in spirit. I wish I could be a little more of a hypocrite some- times. . . . Ha ! There is a large tear which my pen has shed. It is one of a box of pens which THACKERAY'S LETTERS I bought in Washington, D. C. What about the boys? Is Wyllie working hard and as good as ever? Has George begun to grow a mouSache? Is that tiresome fever and ague out of the house ? I have not had a touch since the 4 of July when I was sitting quite happy and unprepared, after a good dinner, likening to Lord Brougham and Lord Lyndhur§l telling wicked old stories, and lo! I felt the enemy creeping down my back. Mysterious chill and fever! — Prattling which nonsense my paper has come to an end. Was it a grand marriage of Miss Libbie ? Mind, I con- sider it is my privilege to send each of those young ladies a tea-pot. The girls and I will go into town to-day to look for one: and when Madam J uses it she will please remember her and your 1857 Here is the 28 November and the letter begun on the 1^ still lying in my box. Do you know why it was not sent? — FirSl we went out to look for a T pot — then we could n't find a pretty little one such as befits a young bride who wishes to console herself with Bohea in the absence of her C 158 1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY heart's darling. Then when in about a week I had got scent of a pretty httle old teapot it is a fa61; I had no money — that is to spare — That is times are so bad and every man so hard pressed that 1, 2, 3, 4 up to 14 people have been to me for gold and silver in the course of the month, and I could n't refuse them in their distress and did n't dare to buy even a twopenny halfpenny present whil^ all these unfortunates were call- ing on for help. As I came in juft now Charles says " Mr. C's servant ju§l called with a note which he was to leave incaseyou were at home." Do you suppose I don't know what that means .f' Mr. C. will call himself to-morrow morning be- fore 1 1 ( the wretch ! ) and say My dear fellow the times are so bad that if you can lend me &c and how on airth with all this can I go and get that teapot.? Never mind. Wait a while, Libbie, it mu^ and shall be bought. Meanwhile take the benedi6lion of your afFe6lionate uncle — which is I think my relationship to you. What has hap- pened since the ii§l.? Nothing particular. My good old parents are gone away after a good long visit — The old Major grows to be more C 159:1 THACKERAY'S LETTERS and more like Colonel Newcome every day. My mother's health has greatly improved. She en- joyed her visit here. We are very smart. You should see our new Brougham if you please, &c &c &c. God bless you all — a very merry Xmas to you, to brides, to bridegrooms, to spinSlers, piccaninnies, grandmothers, grandfathers,grand and common uncles, and to S S H from yours ever. XLIV April lo, 23, 1858 S6 Onslow Square MY DEAR Mrs. Baxter : Is n't it a horrible thing that Libbie's teapot is still in the cupboard yonder under Washington's bu§l.'' Is it a year since she was married? A set of weeks become a month and a set of months a year be- fore I know where I am now, and every day of the year has its turmoil, trouble, illness, parties, letters, printer 's-devils, duns, botherations, and so we go on and on until the end of troubles and pleasures — Do you know here 's the 1 oth of the month and only 3 pages of my number done? c;i6o] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY I have had 2 attacks within the la^ fortnight of my enemy; each attack throwing me back a week or so. I have been with the girls to a deal of parties and dinners. . . . But to return to Li b- bie's teapot,CaptainCom^ock wrote to me some time ago that he was coming to London and would take it with him, I not liking to tru^ the precious article to the common carriage or pos- sible miscarriage of a steamer. Hence the delay in the transmission of this domeSlic little article. Have I ever written to you before on this hor- ribly ugly paper .f' I find it pleasanter far to the pen than your beautiful cream-laids and gilt edges. 23. And here the letter again stopped 12 days ago; and, on Friday night after awful trouble, I only got my number done, juSl in time to send it by po§l to Liverpool and America. The book 's clever but stupid, thats the fa61:. I hate story- making incidents, surprises, love-making, &c more and more every day ; and here is a third of a great story done equal to two thirds of an ordinary novel — and nothing a6lually has hap- pened, except that a young gentleman has come THACKERAY'S LETTERS from America to England. I wish an elderly one could do t' other thing, and have the stronger wish to come and see you all. Are there any more Hamptonkins come orcoming? What have we been about these i o days ? tramping the round of parties, giving dinners, and eating brandy peaches from New York — quite plain dinners, not ostentatious, but O dear me how much plea- santerthe men'spartiesare than those with ladies, that's the fa6l. — Tomorrow Miss Anny gives her fir§l drum . I have set my face hitherto againSl these entertainments from the peculiar nature of our society — we know great people and small, polite and otherwise ; the otherwise are not a bit comfortable in company of the others but yet angry if they are not asked. I know this horrible teafight will bring down all sorts of odium upon the givers ; but they will have it, and though I 'm not quite such a soft Papa as G.B. of 2nd Avenue, if my young women set their hearts on anything they are pretty sure to get it. I am afraid the 2 Lambert girls in the Virginians are very like them, but of course deny it if anybody accuses me. TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY We have been in the mid§t of immense politi- cal flu^er. I have seen my name as a candidate for no less than 4 places in event of a dissolu- tion of parliament, but don't want one now for a while. Let us have some more le6lures and some more money firSl. My expenses ( have I ever grumbled to you about them ? ) are awful. I have a one horse chay and spend 9,6oo£ a year at least. Two families each with a carriage could live for that money — but then they don't give away 5oo£ as Somebody somehow does. Also at the end of the month when the number is done, I go and buy pooty things — 6 such byootiful spoons as I brought home yesterday ! And what do you think } I have had a new coat the fir^t in four years. I have a famous little horse to ride and get on him once a fortnight. I have good daughters, good wine in the cellar, easy work, plenty of money in my pocket, a fair reputation — I ought to be happy oughtn't I.? Eh bien! I don't think I am above 4 days in the month. A man without a woman is a lonely wretch. Hark at the bells dingdonging for church ! Shall I go ? No I forgot — Mr. & Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. and THACKERAY'S LETTERS Mrs. Pollen (O Sally Hampton such a pretty woman!) 4 selves, Lord John Hay, Sir Charles Taylor, Mr. Bidwell, Mr. Motley (of U. S. A. ) Mr. Creyke, and Mr. Edwards are coming to dinner at 7. A Frenchman is my butler and valet, in the place of the sedu6live Charles. . . . Here have I been chattering till it is time for dinner! My dear kind old friend — once and again it is a pleasure to come and sit down and talk to you. Give my beSl regards to all, and God bless you — Perhaps you 11 let S. S. H. have this and my dooty to her. You see I don't like to stop but keep chattering on till I 'm in the hall, down the steps and aftually out of doors — Good bye w. M. T. XLV 36 Onslow Sq. August 25, 1858 I WONDER whether I shall have the energy to get through this sheet — this sheet.? this page. But try we wool, though I owe ever so many people letters before you Madam, and this is safe to be dreadfully stupid. Dont you see that I cant even spell.? I am constantly unwell now [164] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY — a fit of spasms — then get well in about 5 days; then 5 days grumbling and thinking of my work; then 14 days work and spasms da capo — and what a horribly stupid story I am writ- ing ! Dont tell me. I know better than any of you. No incident, no chara6ler, no go left in this dreary old expiring carcass. There Miss Sally — you howl on your sea-shore and I will roar from mine. Come let us placidly take leave of our friends (not telling them anything I mean) go each to the top of a rock, and jump over and end our troubleoubleoubles in the mid§t of the sad sea waves' bubbleubblubbles — I am serious — you fancy I am joking. I tell you I am done, and I don't care. My dear it is all liver. We have been away on a ( for the girls ) jolly little Swiss tourken of 5 weeks and I find the kind letters among the heap on my return home. As for my dear Mrs. Baxter, it steps silently into the room, and soothes me like a sweet refreshing calming anodyne. Fa6l is I 'm quite beat and unwell and can scarce see the paper on w*? I write. Is Libbie's teapot ever going? Yes Andrew Arcedubus Esq. . . . will take it over in a few [165 J THACKERAY'S LETTERS days. It has got black and is so small and shabby that I am ashamed to send it. But O my dear Libbie — times are dark and will be dark, so dark that no man shall be able to work. Make haSle and get married Lucy my dear, if you want a siliwyer tea pot or you will have none from your unfortunate W. M. T. My dear kind mother heart, I am so glad it is elated at Wylly's getting such honours. When he comes to Eng- land he will talk to 2 orphans in a shabby gen- teel house about their maniac father. Nobody in the lea^l is coming to marry them — and no- body I am sure is wanted, by their selfish par- ent. . . . I have nothing to tell you as usual. I went away having got into trouble with a young fel- low who told lies of me in a newspaper, which I was obliged to notice as we are acquaintances, and meet together at a little club. You have read something about it in the papers, I daresay. The little papers are still going on abusing me about it I hear — and dont care as I never read one. The public does not care about the story nor about the Virginians, nor labout either — nor do 1166:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY I know what there is in these 3 pages , nor whether I shall send them. Yes I think I shall send them because I can pay the po^ you know, and be- cause once and away I like to growl out that I love you, ever so many of you, very sincerely. I think taraxacum might do something for Sally who is still (comparatively) young. If I wanted to see the children I would say so ; but I dont. I suppose for form's sake I mu§l send my love to them though. There, Bless you bless you my little dears. Take em away Nurse. Wowwow- wow Rawwawwaw. Chickaly chickaly chickaly. O zoo pooty little darlings — O you unfeeling Broo-oo-oot ! says Aunt Lucy walking out of the room quite haughty. Well — he is really unwell, that is the fa6l Grandmamma says. I think I'm ever so little better now I am got to the end of this absurd paper. God bless you all. Papa and the boys and the girls and Uncle Oliver, says Your aff' W. M. T. n 167:1 THACKERAY'S LETTERS XLVI 36 Onslow Square, Brompton Christmas, i860 THE autumn has passed away in which you were to have come to England and here is a bitter cold ChriSlmas day and no news of you. I am unwell. I am hard at work trying to get the new story on a head. I have been quill- driving all the morning, but I mu§l say a word of God bless you to my dear kind friends at Brown House Street and wish you a Christmas as merry as may be. Are n't you in a fright at the separation .? Is Sally going to be a country- woman of yours no longer, and will her chil- dren in arms fight Libby's.'' It's a horrible thing to me to read of. Have you ever seen a coloured print called the Belle of the Wei§t I have it hang- ing up because it is like a young woman whom I used to admire very much. ( perhaps other little partialities are hung up too and are now only so many painted memorials on a wall) Is it this horrid Separation that has prevented your all coming to Europe. Or are you waiting till next Cies] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY year when my fine new house will be built — at Palace Green, Kensington — opposite the old palace. If I live, please God, I shall write the hiSlory of Queen Anne there. My dear relations are furious at my arrogance, extravagance & presumption in building a handsome new house, and one of them who never made a joke in his life said yeiSerday to me "You ought to call it Vanity Fair." I wonder whom you have got at dinner to- day.-* Our house is all hollyfied from bottom to top. We have asked a poor widow from India with her Jive children, and two or 3 men friends, and we have got a delicate feaSl consi^ling of Boiled Turkey, Roast Goose Roast Beef. and I am going to make a great bowl of punch in the grand silver bowl you know — the testi- monial bowl. No one has come to marry either of my dear girls. I am surprised they don't. But I hardly know any men under fifty, and cant be on the look out for eligible bachelors as good dear Lon- [169] THACKERAY'S LETTERS don mammas can. I have not made their for- tunes as yet, but am getting towards it and have saved a little since I wrote laft ; but I am free- handed, have to keep my wife, to help my par- ents, & to give to poor literary folks — in fine my expenses are very large. I am supposed to make 10,000^ a year. Write 5 and it is about the mark. Health very soso. Repeated attacks of illness. Great thankfulness to God Almighty for good means, for good children. And thats all. Hadn't I better go on with Philip.? Here is the very la§l sentence I wrote: " When I was a girl I used always to be read- ing novels, she said but la ! they 're mostly non- sense! There's Mr. Pendennis, I wonder how a married man can go on writing about love and all that stuff! " And indeed it is rather absurd for elderly fingers to be still twanging Don Cu- pid's toy bow & arrows. YeSlerday is gone, yes — but very well remembered. And we think of it the more now we know that To-morrow is not going to bring us much. Goodbye my dear Yesterdays. And beheve me affedlionately yours C 170 J TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY XLVII 24 May. s6 Onslow Sq. 1861 I THINK you hardly know me in this hand- writing I return to it by fits and starts and when I write with quill pens. Your little package of photographs came and touched us all. How I should like to see the originals, and the one who is n't represented, Madam. Why is there not one of you .? I suppose Papa did not care to have his wife shown with a wrinkle in her face, and al- ways thinks of her as that young lady in white muslin and a frill, who to my mind is not half so good looking as the Mrs. Baxter I knew. How the boys have grown ! Wylly's moustache is quite elegant. I daresay George has one by this time on his solemn face. Do you know, but this I should not like to tell her, I think Sarah has grown handsomer ; and we are divided here about which of the children we like be§l — the dark little maiden with the round eyes or the little man with the Saxon face. There's a very fine, kind, melancholy letter from Sarah Hamp- ton which I have been reading. It is stretching THACKERAY'S LETTERS a hand out into the pa§t and shaking hands with a gho^l there. I suppose you wont have the cour- age to leave home now that it is made so com- fortable to you by war. If Wylly does n't come till December or so we shall moft likely be able to house him in Vanity Fair House. If he comes sooner we mui§l get him a lodging round the corner. At the pa^ry cook's you know, there are very decent rooms ; and it 's not farther off than the brown house from the Clarendon. That wretch W. H. Russell! On the night before he left London we dined at the Garrick Club ; and what did I do but cut off a beautiful lock of snowy hair and write in an envelope Be kind to the bearer of this. And he never bore it to you ; though he went to the Clarendon. And I dont at all envy him the errand upon which he is gone to the States. Awful Reprisals. Thackeray invented the money which he received for his le6lures in America, in American railway stocks. If they cease to pay dividends, he threatens to come back to America, and give more le6lures. I wonder shall I go and call upon your Min- C 172:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY i^er? I have well nigh broken with the world, the grand world, and only go to the people who make my daughters welcome. The fine ladies won't; or is it that the girls are haughty, and very difficult to please? They won't submit to be patronized by the grandees at all, that's the faft ; and I think I rather like them for being rebellious and independent — more so than their Papa, who is older and more worldly. I think I kept back this notekin in order to sketch the new house at Kensington — but fond memory supplies the place of a6lual survey ; and this is what you will see when you come to Lon- don — the reddest house in all the town. I have already had looo^ offered me for my bargain : but I want if I can afford health & time to write the life of Queen Anne in that room with the arched window w^ has a jolly look out on noble Kensington Garden Elms, and is no farther from the centre than what? than 25* Street let us say. But the house is very dear It co^s 6ooo£ and 100^ a year ground rent. Where we are now only co§ls 3000. But its a famous situation & will be a little competency to the girl who inherits C 173 J THACKERAY'S LETTERS it. Anny has been ailing of late, and has gone to the country for change of air. I think Trollope is much more popular with the CornHill Magazine readers than I am : and doubt whether I am not going down hill con- siderably in public favor. It does n't concern me very much Were I to let yonder red house we could live almost without writing but then you know wife and parents are expensive.They want more money here than at Paris; and, thank God, up to the present there 's no lack. But my mo- ther gets very rebellious and wants to go back. There's a little clique of old ladies there who are very fond of her and with whom she is a much more important personage than she is in this great city. If anything happens to the Major she will go to Paris and give us the slip and grum- ble when she is there and presently come back. Well, this is not much to tell is it.? To write twopenny news of domeiSlic gossip to people en- joying a revolution. I have never got to believe in it as serious as yet; and my impression of the U.S.is so incurably friendly that I can'tfancyyou quarrelling and hating each other. I cant think the I 174:1 FACSIMILE OF A PORTION OF THACKERAY S LETTER OF MAY 24, 1861 ^ ^ ^c^ur i^A//"a> ii::' lutr^ "^^ J^*^ '^^ '«' ^i^'tki.Acic/i. TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY fight will be a serious fight. In what will it bene- fit the North to be recoupled to the South ? In the old wars we used to talk of the ruin of England as ensuing on the separation of the colonies — and are n't both better for the separation ? Come let me shut up this little twaddling let- terkin, and pay a shilling for it which is 1 1 ^ more than its worth, and send it with a hand- shake to dear friends from their faithful W. M. T. XLVIII 1862 Palace Green Ketismgto7i, JV. Friday, May 9 MY DEAR FRIENDS. I am glad to have a word of news of all of you, and that you should have wished to hear of me. I did n't write though I have thought of you many a time; and feared for you, le^ the war should have brought its calamity down upon you. Before that grief which I know muSl be in your house ; what to say or to do ? I know what your feehngs are ; THACKERAY'S LETTERS loyal Northerners though you may be, with the daughter and grandchildren in the South who look at me out of our photograph book so in- nocent and pretty and then there 's the bread winner — the warehouse — does the warehouse bring any rent now? I know and feel that try- ing times are come on you all. Some one called me away the other day when I wrote those la§l words and then I have been ill for 2 days and I was called away ju§t as I was going to say something. Now tell me my dear kind good Baxter and wife — there may be trou- bles at home — no dividends — the deuce to pay. I know a fellow who is not rich, for he has spent all his money in building this fine house ; all but a very little — but who knows? Draw on me for 500^ at 3 months after date ; and I am your man. You wont be angry? You may be worth mil- lions ; and laugh at my impudence — I dont know, but I dont mean no harm. Only I remember and shall all my life the kindness and hospitality of the dear old brown house. This one is delightful. I have paid 5000^ on it in 2 years out of income — but there 's ever so TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY much more to pay I dont know how much. When done however it will be a little income to the girl who inherits it and do you know I dont much care when she does. I am constantly ill. A Doc- tor told me at Paris t' other day that I had a fatal complaint and I was n't very sorry.* It turns out not to be true — but, but, but . . . Well upon my word it is one of the niceit houses I have ever seen — as good asMr.Haight's letus say — there is an old green and an old palace and magnifi- cent trees before the window at w"? I write. I have the mo§l delightful study, bedroom, and so forth; can get lo^ for as much writing as there is on these 4 little sides ; have a strong idea that in the next world I shan't be a bit better off. Well — Since her husband's death my poor old mother is wandering about, happy nowhere. I inherit from her this despondency I suppose — but have the pull over her of a strong sense of * '^his recalls an anecdote in the Roundabout Paper " On Lett's Diary" which appeared in the Cornhill Mag- azine for January, 1 862, and subsequently in the edition de luxe and other editions of Thackeray's works, with an illustration by Charles Keene, entitled " 'T'he Sentence." THACKERAY'S LETTERS humour w^ gets plenty of cheerful laughs out of your glum old friend. Nobody comes to marry the daughters. Every body is fond of them. I think they have been the happier for my having gone to America, where a good father and mo- ther I know of used to tell me they liked their children to have "a good time." I saw the Bigelows at Paris la§l week — she as jolly as ever. Good bye God bless you. Never mind if I dont write I may be lazy or moody but always affe61:ionately yours w. M. T. Palace Green Kensington, W. Christmas Day, 1862 MY DEAR FRIENDS. The sad letter has been here for many days. I had the news be- fore from Mr. John Dillon, who has friends in the South. I have not had the courage to write to you about it. I know there is no consolation. I loSl a child myself once, that 's enough to say that I underhand your grief. That journey of Lucy TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY and her father is the saddest thing I have read of for many a long day. I look at Sarah's face in the photograph book and then at a print w"? I have had for many years because it was like her when I fir^l saw her. My friend Miss Perry was telling me how she had ju§l read an old letter of mine to her dear sifter ( who is dead too, and who was one of the deareSt friends I ever had ) and how there was a description of this New York girl. What a bright creature ! What a laugh, a life, a happiness ! And it is all gone ; and you dear people sit bewailing your darling. The letters she sent to me at rare times were awfully sad. In that photograph how sad she looks ! As for those little children, those two we know — we three in this house love them both. Ever since they came to us they have been in the girls' sitting room, and the Belle of the We§l is yonder in mine. How well I remember that fir§l look of her, with the red ribbon in her hair ! and next is that sad matron, and next your letter. What a warm welcome, what a kindly fireside, what kind faces round it — and hers the bright- e§t of all ! Amen. Dear mourning father, mother, C 179] THACKERAY'S LETTERS siSer we can only shake you by the hand, and pray God comfort you. ... I have been think- ing in this pause of that hospitable table in your dining room, and the Spirits moving about; and looking up wistfully in this big lone room, \e§t a form should make itself visible. This morning I was lying awake in the grey looking out at the elms, and thinking of your dear Sarah. God be with us. I dont feel much care about dying. As we love our children, wont our Father love us ? Dear friends I have been so happy in my home, and in yours that I can feel for the grief which now bears you down. God bless you all. Yours afFedtionately always W. M. THACKERAY I DONT talk a word of politics to you. I was touched by Young saying kind words of me in his paper. CiSo^ LETTERS TO Miss LIBBY STRONG Following are three letters addressed by Thack- eray to Miss Libby Strong, niece of Mr. Baxter, who was an inmate of the family at the Brown House during both the visits of the novelist to America, and who is referred to several times in the previous letters of this series as "Miss Libby." These letters were all written in remembrance of the birthday of Miss Strong, which coincided with that of Thackeray. The second was addressed to both Miss Lucy Baxter and Miss Strong, and bears on the last page two L's to indicate this fact. Miss Strong is now Mrs. Alfred Leonard Curtis of New Tork. Basle, 18 July, 1853 MY DEAR Libby. Ju§l to show that I don't forget my promise to write to you on this the 18th [|i7th^ birthday you have known in this wicked world, I tear a leaf out of a book (for I have no desk with me up stairs,) and I write a God bless you and a many happy re- C18O THACKERAY'S LETTERS turns of the day to you and all others who were born on your day. We are set out on a little tour. It 's ever so many weeks since I have heard from the Second Avenue and the la§t news I had of it was that a baker's shop had been burned and some people killed jumping out of window. We have come from Baden to day, where we spent lo very jolly days, and I should have made you some verses: but. Miss, I was better em- ployed spinning prose for my family, and get- ting on at a fine rate. This is ju§l like an American hotel, and I was showing my daughters a regular American table d'hote (there were a score of you all at supper as we dined at a separate table) and juSt as I was saying how comfortable it was to see them all again: how I felt back in the auld country ( your 's you know is the auld country with me — ) I 'm sorry to say no less than 5 people — two of 'em ladies — put their knives down their throats, at w*" those girls laughed. It was all very well of me to say 'My dears, theres no crime in using a knife as we use a fork or a spoon ' but still I wish they had n't a done it, for I know the Eu- TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY ropians laugh at the pra6lice and I don't want you to be laughed at. There were girls with hair ^^^ you know, & little Vandyke collars ^^ Ju§t as I remember them in a certain country : and my ^ warmed towards them from certain recolle6lions I have: but I wish, I wish they had not used their knives in that way. I see more Americans than Enghsh abroad : I see some of 'em turning round to each other, & whispering that's so and so — meaning some one who was born on Miss Libby Strong's birthday. Are you having a good time, & being all happy .'' I wish I could see you all this minute. How is B ? Is his name Tommy B or Billy or what.? Are you gone to Newport or Saratoga.? Is your father well, and Ben? Are your aunt uncle & cousins pretty cheerful.? Will you kiss them with my respe6lful compliments, and ac- cept the same ( w"? I will pay I hope next year ) from your afFe6lionate old friend WMT. See in what pretty ways I can write I shall be C183J THACKERAY'S LETTERS in London in September and I expeft a many American letters there from the Brown House in 2d Avenue. N. Y. FACSIMILE OF THE SCROLL-LIKE POSTSCRIPT LI Somewhere in October & November Paris, 1853 MY DEAR LITTLE BIRDS. There is no use in getting out of temper and scolding and rating me in that way. I know very well that I owe you a letter: and that you are going about saying to everybody Why does n't Mr. Thack- eray answer us .? Were n't we very kind to him ? Didn't we make him some brandy-peaches and pickled-walnuts ( I juSi think how clever it would have been had I said pandy-breaches and wickled-palnuts ho ho ho ! You will kill me with laughing if you go on in that way ! ) Did n't he kiss us both when he went away ( Now you are [184:1 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY caught ! I have put this in ju§l in order that you may n't show the letter. You dare n't now. I defy you). And we write to him the prettie§l little letters, and we always think kindly of him, and he owes us a letter this ever so long! — O you little absurd birds ! ( I wish I could hear you pronounce them 2 wuerds absuerd buerds in your New York tone ! You are sitting on one perch and I will knock you both down with one little stone. I think I have told you all the news in the preceding page and you may rely upon every word I have said as corre6l. I was so glad to hear from Mamma — I mean Mother I mean Aunt Anna, that you were both married and liv- ing in great comfort in Fifty Sixth Street — I don't like Libbie's marrying a paSlry Cook but que voulez vous ? we have our prejudices in Eu- rope: when my younge^l girl was married to the black footman I was for a long time incon- solable but the little tawny graces of my infan- tileGrandson have reconciled me to his Mother's choice and the bandy legs and woolly head of his father. Do you know what all this is about ? Hiss;] THACKERAY'S LETTERS Well I will tell you. My daughters & I are go- ing out to tea with their Granny. We went to dress together. I mean at the same time you know. I am in that elegant coat & waistcoat que vous savez — the very garments — and I thought I would begin a letter to you, and write a little stuff and nonsense until they were ready. Here they are. Away we go to tea. Good night Mes- demoiselles L. L. We have been here for a fortnight. This is written thenext morning youknow — Andl don't know whether we shall make out our visit to Rome this winter. It is always a hard matter to get a family on the march — the botheration of moving — the tears of Grandmother &c. I wish the girls would let me go by myself for a month, & they w? but they would n't forgive me after- wards. I don't know that Paris is very pleasant. I know 2, 3, 4 distinft sets of people, and be- tween them all cant see any one comfortably. The be§l way is to do as at New York, go to no- body, only to one house, say a brown one at the corner of a Street, and negleft all the re§l of the World. Did I tell you that I have bought [186;] TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY a pretty little house at Brompton? looking into a very pretty square (Onslow Sq: ) — The girls are to keep a floor to themselves and a little bath-room . I know where I got the hint of the bath-room ; and we shall give up old Kensing- ton and go and live there. But the house is not so roomy as Kensington. I can only make out at the mo§t 2 spare bed rooms. I got your Mo- ther's letter yesterday ; and I went right away FACSIMILE OF A NOTE TO MISS STRONG's FATHER WRITTEN ON A VISITING-CARD to see[|k] her Mrs. Bayley but she is gone. Two nights ago at the theatre I saw the fat face of an old acquaintance from Providence R. I. C is n't his name? a podgy little dandy. I was glad to set eyes on him. People from your Country whom I knew there cant underhand I daresay, [187:1 THACKERAY'S LETTERS how glad I am to see them. What makes me like it so? — The Brown House, and one or two more — but the B. H. mo§l of all. Ye^lerday ( This is written weeks and weeks after the other part,) me and the gals, went to Fontainebleau; and the wind blows fairfor Rome now I think. I shall be glad to be on the move again, so as to be quiet. Do you know that when we were in that pleasant foreSl yesterday, and walking through those trim old gardens all car- peted with red leaves and admiring that quaint old palace, I often wished for some young ladies ? Corbin gave us a grand dinner la^ Saturday. He had a Lord on each side of him and the whole feaSl was very splendid : and Bancroft Davis has ju§l arrived and I see your compatriots flaunt- ing about every where in grand barouches with splendid livery-menials and cockayds in their hats — & I wish I wish for you girls that's the truth — No one has such good tea — Such good peaches — Such good walnuts — Why is n't Second Ave- nue next door that I might leave my books and papers and step in where I know I should be welcome if it was only to talk nonsense like this TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY Good bye young ladies accept my respect- ful salutations Remember me to Aunt Snell- ing & to George & to Wyllie and so Good Bye WMT. LII Chateau de Brecrecque Boulogne Sur Mer [^1854^ IS not this the 1 8 July and does not Miss Libby Strong expe6l a letter on this anniversary ? Yes and Miss Lucy ought to have had a letter on her's; and will, I hope, be jealous at not getting one — but you see, Miss Lucy, this is my birth- day as well, thats why I write so specially — though what do birthdays mark after 40 ? As in the railroad tunnels ( unknown in your free coun- try ) we get deeper and deeper plunging into the dark and the bright spot we set out from grows fainter and faintertill it winks outinwisible. Libby is only ]\x§t setting off on her life-journey. She isn't tired of the jolting nor the sameness nor the dust nor the hard seats. I wonder whether there are some nice young men in the carriage.'' that [189:1 THACKERAY'S LETTERS makesthe journey pass much pleasanter; at lea^, about five & twenty years ago when I was Miss Libby's age a pretty girl opposite always did my eyes good. Now its different of course. I was a very venerable old bird when I was in America, but I am fifty years older now at lea^ ; think de- cidedly I'm not for this world very long — dont care much to stay, as soon as Anny & Minny are comfortably settled — Theres Minny hoeing in the garden at this present minute. Such a pretty quiet green smiling damp pleasant unwholesome garden ! We have many of us had colds in the house. I have been to Paris for a week after work- ing for a fortnight here like a Trojan : kept by my- self all the time I was there called upon nobody bought clocks and gimcracks for the new house in London w^ I never seem to want to see again went to the play every night and did not even call on Miss Davis of New York though we were ackshly living in the same hotel. Dont you see by this twaddle that I haven't got much news to give you ? The most part of life is such — at forty three — at eighteen, Miss, it's different — and the eyes see things with a sunshine of their own sup- C 190 '2 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY plying. Tell me, is there no plum-cake coming from the Brown House and no young fellow step- ping forward? — The mo§l awful thing about the brown house is — I 'm almost ashamed to own it — that I 've forgotten the number. The way in w^ one forgets ( at 430 w^ is my age ) is awful. A man came and spoke to me yesterday at the pier here — Good Evns says he dont you remem- ber me? No says I quite cheerfully not in the lea§l my good Sir. I forget the number of the house where I lived myself for 5 years before I went to Kensington — No stop — its 286. O thou fool, what will it matter a few score years hence ? I began to make a pome about Sontags death the other day but stopped finding it was not at all about her but about myself. Bon Dieu what an angel I remember thinking her ju§t twenty five years ago and seven years before Miss Libby Strong was born ! Something dismal must be in the air for instead of writing gaily to a young lady on her birthday see the page is full of darkness, death, weariness of soul, failing memory, advan- cing decrepitude, speedy departure. Is it because THACKERAY'S LETTERS I have been hard at work all day, and am writ- ing this for the dear life, so that Mr. Dickens may carry it in his pocket across the water, and so forward it to Liverpool. I dined with him yes- terday. He has 9 children 7 boys — we played at forfeits and the game of ' buzz ' Do you know it.? I think even buzz would tire me after a cer- tain number of enjoyments. Come, it is time to pack up this note, and trot down to the boat. Suppose I was at New York now. I wonder whether it being your birth day, I should be allowed to — vous comprenez — and it being my birth day whether I shouldn't be authorized to do it all round: Well now I guess I'd give a hundred dollar bill to do it — thats thirty three? 33 cents a piece I reckon and one cent over: Miss Libby says I dont know what you mean about cents but I know you are talking a great deal of non cents. So it is. And how much of life is ditto ditto? Wait till you are five and twenty years older like some people, and then see. So I send my love to all of you in the brown house, or wheresumdever the Shade & the Sum- C 192 ^ aT /> 'is'" % (:l#1il OTHELLO AND DESDEMONA FROM A HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED DRAWING BY THACKERAY SEE PAGE 193 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY mer has conveyed you, and am of the 3 young ladies especially the respe6lable old friend W M T. A FRIEND of mine is coming out to N. Y ; to whom I shall give a letter. He is a queer fellow the ori- ginal of the Chevalier Strong in Pendennis Note The circumstances under which this picture of Othello and Desdemo?ia was made are thus related by Mrs. Curtis. Inuring his first visit to America Mr. Thackeray once came to call at the Brown House, and finding that Mrs. Baxter was not at home, he left his cards without entering, it being his invariable custom not to visit the family during her absence. The young ladies from an upper win- dow saw him as he was going away, and Miss Strong was dared by the others to wave her hand- kerchief at him, which she did, eliciting a courteous C 193 n THACKERAY'S LETTERS response from their friend. The next day she re- ceived from Mr. Thackeray a box of handkerchief s , with the preceding sketch and the following in- scription : llvti Vkh t Viux- qoio.^ Ux^ ttu. x^HMS-ttA-cXun^i Li ttu. Ikt -Ziv^ loW- I \■u^ ^ Caliun. lUi^u "J^ ■/f«i/ «(&, THE END II I.il! 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