File:Frances (Appleton) Longfellow to Emmeline (Austin) Wadsworth, 3 July 1840 (8a306907-9961-4d18-bbcc-e4e9a215dc1c).jpg

Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1011/002.001-010#017

Newport. Friday evening.
My sweetest,
As the rest of our good people have actually seated themselves down to a game of whist by way of getting up a home-feeling this first ev’g in our new domicil. I return as naturally to my favorite occupations – thinking of you my best darling, & how mournful I felt, to go off this morning without a last look into your tender, love-eloquent eyes except thro’ those balcony bars which made you seem too like an imprisoned maiden, & without a parting ‘God bless you,’ to exorcise, as it were, the ill omen of the day, from those lips that never open but to bless me! This is coming it rayther [sic] strong, as Sam Weller would say, in the way of sentiment but I flatter myself you are thinking something to the same effect – and – but, par parenthèse, seriously why should the holy sympathy of true love of one sort be denied the use of language as impassioned as that other which usually monopolizes it? the gushings forth of the heart freeze so fast in any atmosphere of words – that they can only thaw & discourse eloquent music, like Munchausen’s frozen horn, when brought to the echoing warmth of a like-toned instrument. and yours flow into mine too harmoniously to imagine them ever pitched too high. These sublimely Frederic Thalish chromatic comparisons have been put into me by listening to the Eolian Harp which has already begun to [p. 2] sigh to the sighings of Newport airs & has been ringing thro’ the house with its sad, tremulous, shuddering, appealing melody too like tones drawn from a suffering, human spirit to be endurable at all times – then the distant moan of the sea & this refreshing silence elsewhere! Already I begin to feel vastly poetical here, have been tramping on the piazza in Nahant fashion in the damp, velvety air, admiring an “ultra-gorgeous sunset – of richest crimson glowing thro’ the trees of our orchard with a night-cap of snowy soft clouds - & a troop of paternal swallows wheeling timidly to their nests (one in each corner of the piazza) giving forth doubting, fretful cries, inspecting the new intruders to see if they are to be trusted. Father & Tom, - Pic frisking with joyous freedom from carpets & brick walls, have been exploring the coast just below us & give charming accounts of cliffs & caves which I shall make acquaintance with tomorrow. We got down here very nicely – both babies behaving remarkably well – poor Fanny & I had no such sweet charge – Marianne having as a pendant to Tom & Mrs A. (both “babe in arm”) Alonzo’s last bouquet – the ‘last rose’ of her summer - & expressing a volcano of passion to judge by the vividness of the colors. The shores about Providence looked as softly picturesque as English from the resemblance of the weather to-day to that. I remember I have often thought them quite common-place in our usual, glaring sunlight. I wonder how the majority would like here often this picture-glaze, to a few eyes so essential.
Before quite finishing a steamboat meal of soup, heated to Satanic palates & as full of suspicious odds & ends as the kind Witches fancy, assiste by chickens demanding a more dignified name (Pic in the mean time too occupied with taking notes, visiting every berth in succession the whole length of the cabin! to eat!) we reached [p. 3] Newport wharf. The town as well as I could say, emballés as we were, looked the same old sixpence with a few nice additions. We [crossed out: we] have not laid eyes on a mortal yet. (tho’ Father says a few goat-like specimens of human- or N.-York-anity are to be found in the Billiard Room) & I am in no hurry to do so. It is very odd this feeling of being in somebody else’s house, & yet enough home-utensils & faces about to make it seem our own. We are much pleased with the aspect of things on the whole – a fine, roomy & clean house, looking forth on the sea on 3 sides – which is very gray & sullen just now. Roses & honeysuckles enough to enliven the foreground &c. The settling process is highly diverting. All our blankets came down in the carriage & we were beginning to conjecture in what kind of Sir John Moore’s covering we might shroud ourselves for the night when Perkins drove [up] with one of the horses somewhat lame, so, possibly, we shall lead a Selkirk life here for a few days if the weather is foul & we lazy. The previous inn-dwelling of 7 children is made manifest here by divers breakages in the ‘potteries,’ but tho’ the furniture maintains the respectful distances of angel’s visits it does its duty very well. Our books, miniatures &c will speedily give a more habitable look. My room is delightful – large, with the best views of the sea & - my impatient wishes jumped instantly to the happy days when you will be an occupant with me there. Tom enjoys possession of the ‘spare chamber,’ at present, & resigns himself with his usual patience to the probability of being turned out – into a smaller one [crossed out: as to] likewise to my appropriation of his bureau [crossed out: by] after! I have been reading aloud the “Dial” & like much the conciseness of thoughts & lofty tone therein – transcendental au dernier coup but makes one think [p. 4 bottom] to discover if it was worth thinking about which is some gain. Is’nt this a good beginning – ah, sweet, only think of me as often as I shall be sure to think of you & keep locked up in your desk & heart all that thinking shall blot paper with. Keep up a good heart & write me of all its beatings -; boundings, throbbings, sinkings, rejoicings, longings, [p. 4 top] & enjoyings. All, all mine by the right of comprehending & loving them better than my own. No love can compass you about with a more watchful tenderness, a more constant & complete soul-enwrapping devotion than mine & yet, my love, I wish for you all – all – that is worthy of you & the high destiny of so pure, so tender, so true as spirit as that to which I now, with many kisses & visionary embraces say Good night –
Thy F –
[p. 1 cross] Tom & Fanny send their love. He is quite piqued [crossed out: that] because I tell him there is nothing about him in this letter – “Cunning little devil”!
ADDRESSED: MISS AUSTIN. / CARE OF SAML AUSTIN JR. / BOSTON. MASS.
POSTMARK: NEW PORT / R.I. / JUL 6

• Keywords: correspondence; frances elizabeth (appleton) longfellow; frances e. a. longfellow papers (long 20257); long archives; people; document; subject; united states; places; newport; ri; travel; Correspondence (1011/002); (LONG-SeriesName); Letters from Frances Longfellow (1011/002.001); (LONG-SubseriesName); 1840 (1011/002.001-010); (LONG-FileUnitName)