File:File-Frances (Appleton) Longfellow to -Emmeline (Austin) Wadsworth-, 26 November 1849 (9a9facf2-4580-4a32-b293-2eaefe60fcc0).jpg

Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1011/002.001-019#030

Cambridge Nov. 26th 1849.
Dearest,
I have just been reading a long & charming letter from Miss Costello to Henry, written on the banks of the Loire, also one from her brother in London, also one from Miss Chapman (you remember her?) from the Isle of Wight, & the thought has come to me if such distant, & almost unknown friends are so faithful how much more ought we, ought I to be. Tho’ I will do myself justice by confessing I did intend to write you this very day, before spurred thereto by these foreign letters. I forgot to send you, in my last, the little poem I promised, so here it is – It is almost too solemn to be read as a letter reads, so pray keep it till you feel in a serious & serene mood. It is very simple, but its divinity of thought pleases me, & [p. 2] bears me away into a “purer ether, a diviner air.” I think too the use of the “render unto Caesar” &c in the first verse fresh & striking. There are some very nice poems in the new volume, but you will soon see it, so I shall not tell you any thing more about it, but that there is nothing better perhaps than the Drift-wood. Boston is, at this moment, in sad suspense about the fate of poor Dr Parkman, the lean doctor. he wandered away on Friday, with money in his pocket, & was last seen on Craigie Bridge with an Irishman, who called him away for medical attendance. It is feared he may be murdered. That would be a sad end for the good-natured Don Quixote.
I went to Mrs Deacon’s ball (to change the subject with a wrench) & nothing but the ‘petit Trianon’ ever was more brilliant & charming. Everybody went but the highly moral few, & were beautifully dressed & enjoyed themselves or itself (I am always puzzled [p. 3] with these nouns of quantity having never been taught any grammar but the Latin, in anticipation I suppose of turning out a Lady Mary Wortley Montague at least – she wrote in Latin to Pope did’nt she?) highly!! My parenthesis has swallowed up my sentence, as the whale did Jonah, so I must start with a new one. You can fancy how pretty it was, all that satin & gilding lit up by a thousand candles, whose soft light was most becoming. The room between the Library & boudoir was the hall-room & the mosaic wood floor slid easily under the perpetually polking couples. The older people remained chiefly in the gorgeous drawing room, now & then wandering into the darker Library or Conservator, - & awaiting supper with exemplary patience until 12. We took Scherb, the young Swiss poet, who is lecturing to ladies on Dante & is a most interesting person, of very refined tastes, great scholarship & sentiment, & deep religious feeling. He has passed sev [p. 4] eral nights with us lately, & we have greatly enjoyed his sympathy in literary matters. He was delighted with the party, & only regretted the ladies were not all dressed à la Marie Antoinette to make it still more complete. Mrs Deacon looked really very prettily, with a becoming kind of toque with a drooping feather, a very rich rose-colored silk covered with lace to the knee & a bright color, from the excitement, in her cheeks. She was quiet & dignified for a wonder, & behaved very well, tho’ on Saturday alas when I called her old flightiness had returned. The supper was not opened until twelve, & there was quite a rush to the splendid table, adorned with everything rich & rare. Mrs Paige got entangled by the lace of her [??]the with Sumner & another gentlemen, & it was long before she could be extracted from her ludicrous position. Sumner wished gallantly to be cut off by the button of her coat, which detained her, but no knife was at hand. The New York brides looked charmingly & were beautifully dressed as [p. 5, marked 2] usual, but so were many of our fair damsels. Feathers in the hair seem to be all the rage with matrons, & with dancers numerous flounces on the skirt edged with satin ribbon, several rows put on plain, or small puffs to the knee. Waists all pointed behind, a fashion Mary Greenleaf brought from New Orleans some summers ago. You see I enlighten your rustic ignorance, only edified, as you are, by continually fresh arrivals from Paris! There will probably be a ball now in the gaiety, the Winthrops are on their way to Washington, & Mr & Mrs Webster have just honored us with a farewell call by candle-light. She has, as usual, a young lady with her – from Baltimore. He is grander & gloomier than ever, & looks like a Titan – a modern Prometheus chained to the rock of debt-creditors. forever gnawing at his vitals – I wanted to thank him for his eloquent burst about Hungary, but had not courage. A son of Lord Lars & Seal is here, who had much to say to me, the other day, of Tom & the Bracebridges & Miss À Court & her handsome husband Sidney Herbert, but when I ventured to ask him if he had heard of Ruskin, the author of that sublime book “the Seven Lamps of Architecture” he confessed utter ignorance of the man & his works – “A prophet” &c. We have much wider skirts & know more what new stars appear than any other people I am quite sure. I wish I could draw for you a lovely head of Agnes Sorel Miss Costello has drawn for Henry in her letter – let me try –
[sketch of woman’s head reclining on pillow, wearing crown]
[p. 7] My unskillful & particularly unyielding pen cannot give the soft grace of hers, but you can form some faint idea what the original may be reposing between the wings of two weeping angels in a little cell at Loches. I have made the nose a little too retroussé, but it was in a difficult to position to draw in a hurry.
Fanny Danforth is here with a nice little Fanny & a fine fat baby – a boy. Jewett is perpetually reviving Stockbridge days. He is getting restless, & will soon be winging his way south with the birds. And still our Indian summer hangs on, & today has been its day of days – but this softness enervates me, & I long for a clear, bracing atmosphere. Grace Greenwood has sent me her book She is a kind of dashing Die Vernon among the authoresses, but writes with a right & true & womanly feeling in her more serious words, I cant but like. She flashed her bright eyes on us [p. 8] one day & rather interested me. A letter from Tom today says nothing of returning. He says Mrs Lawrence’s caressing the royal children at the Coal Exchange fête was thought, by Mrs Bates, highly shocking to royal etiquette. I fear her good-nature & want of tact may lead her to be over demonstrative. Sumner was at a fine dinner at Mr Curtis’ for Mrs John L. Gardner. I am glad when he gets an invite, for alas! they are rare. Mr Norton is still very weak, but getting on, & to crown their joy they have just heard of Charley’s safe arrival. We were invited to Mrs Tics to meet Mary Parkmans, Mrs Cleveland &c . I was sorry to lose it but it was the night of Mrs Deacon’s & I did not wish to attempt too much. Tom provokingly left Paris just before my letter arrived about the fans, but I am sure he wrote he had commissioned Charley Perkins to get yours. I shall ask him about it. I have a darling little bronze greyhound given me for New Year in advance – by Henry I believe I have told you this before. Lizzy Prescott looked really handsome the other night in a blue wreath & new dress from Paris – What a gossipy letter! here it ends like all with best love from yr fond & true Fanny E.L.

• Keywords: correspondence; long archives; frances e. a. longfellow papers (long 20257); frances elizabeth (appleton) longfellow; people; document; subject; family life; social life; Correspondence (1011/002); (LONG-SeriesName); Letters from Frances Longfellow (1011/002.001); (LONG-SubseriesName); 1849 (1011/002.001-019); (LONG-FileUnitName)