File:Frances (Appleton) Longfellow to Emmeline (Austin) Wadsworth, 9 July 1840 (a97abaaf-d489-40a0-bf7b-ca31cc75d57e).jpg

Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1011/002.001-010#019

Newport. Thursday. July 1840.
Why has my sweet darling allowed a week to slip away without brightening this foggy island with the sunshine of her kind words – Daguerreotype smiles? A letter here causes as much sensation as Crusoe’s discovery of a print in the sand. only of a different sort - &, immensely as I relish this comparative seclusion from humanity ie stranger humanity, letters from you must be my manna. Not that I am in danger of starving & should make a cannibal appropriation of your written self; thus far our table is supplied admirably - & we have not been driven to any of the meagre rifacciomenti of Stockbridge scantiness. Solid joints of mutton & beef flanked by more vegetables than mouths to devour them – of our own raising too! with fine apples & cherries from the town help to keep under sea-appetites of no ordinary capacities as proved by my thrusting upon you such uninteresting details. Tom has talked largely of supplying us with tautog daily & has this moment returned from the rocks, pole in hand & a huge fellow in his basket – but, I have shrewd suspicions of a silver hook. We are just now bathed in one of those delicious, soft fogs which soothes & refreshes my nerves & senses as your influence does my heart & soul! like the touch of a gentle, loving hand. I cannot tell you how well I feel here already; this elastic air, & constant exercise in it have strengthened me incredibly, have hushed away many mists that were hovering round me in town & the sun & sea air have burned a colour into my cheeks which gives a comfortable feeling of greater health. I shall soon expand, I hope, to my desired proportions. Except [p. 2] an occasional worry about Mary & a conviction that I ought to go to her & many a longing for nice chats with you & I should be as oppressed with content as some days last summer for the beauty of these in-rushing waves, creamy surf, free life altogether demand too many senses to enjoy, too much thanksgiving, too much remorse for past discontent to be at first – calmly-happy sensations. So you see I carry yet a more living heart in my bosom than I can believe in the smothering town life beating there. we do not die so easy & the enjoyment of the beautiful will I am sure outlive most excitements in mine. I have only been once to Newport, looked in on good Mrs Nat & her vine-draped cottage - & Sophy Thorndike & began acquaintance with Mr Hammond who is the driest of dry-goods’ jokers – a character. The way he ordered about the least possible boy of the appropriate circulating-library cognomen of Clifford & anticipated all my wants of bathing-gown material et cetera was worthy of Boz. Mr Schroeder & Frank (who has grown much more manly-handsome) took tea with us last Sunday & the Amories have all been here & yesterday as I was having a romping game of ball (relics of young Lawrences) with Tom on the piazza Sir John Caldwell swayed hitherward & after much unmeaning potter accompanied us in a drive over both beaches. Tom driving Pic et moi in a Newport buggy he has taken for the season as horses are suspiciously in demand at this distance. These are the only people we have seen – oh, I found Elizabeth Grant at Mrs Nat’s where she lives like every-body else I fancy (I hold in great respect a woman who bears that kind of victimizing with such good-natured, even cordial, complacence it being a virtue quite beyond my attaining) & William Middleton & his Esau-resembling brother Henry have been visible at distance but have not yet paid their respects. Mrs Fisher has an infant [p. 3] of a week old so will not be here yet awhile. Miss Harper has arrived I hear & that lovely Mrs Ridgeway is at Potters – likewise all the southern Hamiltons. I shall go to-day to see Mrs Gilleat who is in trouble for the loss of a child. I am never tempted to walk townward these rambles along the cliffs are so agreeable – such short, soft turf under foot & beautiful views of sea & shore. There is a descent to the latter only across our lawn where we intend to bathe it being more retired than other parts of the shore – tho I fear the surf has rather an unsafe vigour hereabouts. Fanny’s swimming capacities may be of much service to her. Last Sunday I read Taylor that Shakspeare of divines as somebody well calls him to Tom & Fanny on the rocks looking with one eye & listening with one ear to the eloquence as divine of the dashing billows at our feet – such a Sunday as I love con tutto il cuore – chosen thoughts in chosen places. In the P.M. we walked along cliffs to the beach [& I] thought of, pitying, you flanéing on hat Mall pebbles. And how did you survive the fourth? Our champagne bumpers & faint distant guns alone whispered of it here; we enjoyed the independance [sic] it commemorates as few other mortals I imagine. Father seems fully content here & is busy writing the genealogical history of all the Appletons from Eve. The bambino is thriving famously in this air & has already learned to stretch out his arms to be taken – a march of mind or heart you were so anxious to witness. The servants looked rather glum at first at the relics of broken crockery &c they had to inherit - & our brick-dust cold cuisinière still mutters a little but they are getting acclimated to their new quarters; if they came as we do they would find every-thing couleur de rose but I have observed that persons of little understanding & education exercise their imaginations on low, material things as we do on spiritual things & exact as widely – with as little discretion or common sense. Last night Fan. Tom & I took a very long walk to one of the southern most [p. 4 bottom] points of the island. I wish you could have seen the valiant, Napoleon-energy with which Pic charged upon every flock of sheep we met routing the silly things completely, driving one out upon a high rock, where, with tied feet, it began to bleat most piteously & the Lilliputian hero gazed triumphantly on his victim from the cliff above with ears streaming, like helmet plume, in the wind. He was a great coward at the waves, however, but is getting used to them; looks very cunning dashing through the long grass or daintily treading the flinty stones. but as familiarity breeds contempt allows Tom to wander off without him & welcomes his return with none of the [p. 4 top] exuberant rapture he did when a prisoner in brick walls. Did you ever read Mephistopheles in England? I find it rather amusing. Our targets are under way & a red-shirted mower has been levelling the white-weed so that we shall speedily ‘draw our arrows to their heads.” We have some very pretty flowers with which I decorate the drawing-rooms. Have you seen Sally Newton, Oaky I mean? It grieves me sair, [sic] my love, to think of you pensively alone in your high chamber with the companionship of few such nice influences as I have here. Yet for me the wish & want of you is none the less. It haunts me perpetually. It has become a part of my daily food. I have [p. 4 cross] no identity without it. Try to satisfy this craving by long letters full of yourself till I have yourself in very deed. God bless you. With all possible love All send their love to you. Yr true Fan.
Give my kind remembrances to your Father & Brothers.
ADDRESSED: MISS AUSTIN. / CARE OF SAML AUSTIN JR. / BOSTON. MASS.
POSTMARK: NEW PORT / R.I / JUL 10[?]

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