Manuscript letter

Archives Number: 1011/002.001-012#008

Brookline. July 5th 1842.
Dearest Tomolino,
I fear this letter may be too late for you; not fear exactly for I shall rejoice to welcome you back, my darling, but I have delayed writing a day or two hoping the steamer would be amiable enough to arrive that I might give you something better than news of myself alone. The heartiest thanks possible for your rhapsodies at Niagara! They were just what I was longing, & had been getting [crossed out: gillum] very impatient for & were the next best thing to being there with you. It seemed strange to think you had actually slain this lion of Nemaean [sic] size so long talked-of, & I not by to see. I can fully understand your half reluctance to devour him at one meal. The long cherished hope of a great thing is such a rich possession that we are hardly willing to give it up even to the reality – for alas! it can never be renewed & few enough realities exceed, even equal it. But this is a cowardly distrust of Nature & a very vainglorious exaltation of one’s imagination, - & I know you look upon it with some scorn, - so I am confident it will be all satisfaction to you that you have eaten up one of the biggest plums in your cake, & instead of [p. 2] crying about it like a spoiled child are ready to exclaim with the fully-contented-rational hero of Mother Goose “what a brave boy am I!”
I am so glad you had the impressive preface of Goat Island for the first impressions. So had we & I was always thankful for it. One should never come too abruptly on such services & to jump from the Hotel to Table Rock, as most do arriving on the English side, is as bad as Sam Patch’s sudden leap from this world to the next. Your hexameters pleased me peculiarly. I remember well the effect of those solemn mists when they changed with the fading light from ‘gay creatures of the element’ to an army of spectres - & “the roar of an infinite motion” &c most happily expresses the vague & mindless spirit of the place & time, & of one’s thoughts & feelings under such an awful influence. In fact, my darling, I wanted your impressions because I knew they would not only satisfy, but delight me. They always do both & if it was less true I, perhaps should tell you so oftener. I love to see every-thing excellent thro’ your eyes & heart & mind in sober earnest & without a grain of flattery. Probably, mainly, because they always halmunase with my own. I am ready to talk volumes with you about Niagara but not now – hoping so soon to greet you here since you have not obeyed Fathers [p. 3] summons to Washington. Uncle Sam was delighted that you earthed the Todd & a good deal of trouble would weigh in the balance without giving him such a complete satisfaction. I have been at this ‘Castle of Indolence’, as we style it, about 10 days - & am happier than I can tell you. We trust you will be soon a witness & perhaps participant in our dainty pursuits. Even the philosophical & business-bound Sam is to be seen, at times, perched, Zaccheus-like, in cherry trees, dropping their rich clusters at the feet of hungry damsels as if he had lived in a Boccaccio garden all his days. Argumentations, die ‘a natural death’ in the luxurious indolence of body & brain felt here. The strongest will is steeped in poppies lulled to sleep, - even the energetic destructiveness of Edward here ‘suffers a country change’ & is subdued into the harmless massacre of moschitoes & spiders. You will lose the prettiest season here, that of roses, for Em’s bountiful bushes are beginning to droop & our morning’s toil of training, aiding them not to blush unseen &c is comparatively gone. I felt as Salla Rookish as possible at first – losing the time in such a dainty fashion, & feeding, daily her pretty deer who always sidles up with such an aristocratic indifference to crop my basket of rose-leaves. We do not give all our time, however, to the ‘skiey influences’ fascinating as they are, but read diligently thro’ the warm hours. Every [p. 4 bottom] summer is like a new revelation to me, but in this pretty country & in such an agreeable position it has really been a new Heaven & a new Earth! I wish you could niche yourself somewhere near us I shall not probably go to Nahant till August, as Mr Austin is kind enough to say he cannot get on without me, that is he offers me the first hospitality - & this quiet, this society is so much more to my liking than that [p. 4 top] glaring, watering-place life. Tom Dwight (who is the most devoue of swains, all day long at his lady’s feet) Iasigi & Gossler live about a mile from us & possibly they can lodge you too or you might find nearer a room in some farm-house. We found it too damp last night to await seeing many Boston fire-works from the summer house but they were shooting up to Heaven all about us, from Mr Cabots grounds especially. Likewise guns from all points [p. 4 cross] of the compass well typifying the burning gratitude of so many hearts throughout this broad country – altho’ alas many of their presumptuous hopes about it seem coming down with a stick only to bruise the hoper.
[p. 1 cross] The President is like a child with a new jacknife [sic] & lives but to destroy! Tis to be hoped he will soon be weary of his toy & forget his privilege of vetoing every thing. Father speaks of the Virtue, the enjoyment of each day is evidently all he cares to think about, knowing it is no use ‘kicking against the pucks’ that he is in the trap & must make the best, & hope the best of it. Harriet goes to Nahant on Thursday – Uncle Wms Mother died a week ago of over-ripe age. Em is anxious you should acquit her of partial prudery in the matter of male correspondents. She answered only one of W.W.W’s epistles because it was civil to do that much; voilà tout! I am surprised you escaped heart-whole from the Armida of the West – nous venons.
Good bye – speedily return to thy loving
Fan
[p. 2 cross] Luckily before sending off the above a famous budget arrived from Mary per Caledonia. It has gladdened my heart indeed she writes so at length & with such zest is enjoying seeing London & every body that she must be much stronger. Before her resolution fails thinks of setting off for Scotland even which I hope she may accomplish for Mrs Erskine’s sake & because the excitement of travelling is good for her. Mac by his premature landing procured nice lodgings, near Hyde Park into which she stepped at once on arrival which was a happy forethought. She writes volumes about Ronny’s doings & sayings all of which you shall read when it comes back from Washington. There is a letter to you from Robert which I do not think it worth while to send to you as there is so little certainty where you are.
Everybody was well of our friends there & she had seen them all. Adelaide Kemble engaged to a Spaniard & Mrs Butler to return in August so the papers lie famously. What do you think of this barbarous revenge of the English on the gooseical youth who shot at the Queen. Hanging is hardly tolerated now a days but to be drawn & quartered sounds very heathenish. Ned Austin is waiting for my letter so I can give you nothing further – Yr aff Fan
ADDRESSED: THE POSTMASTER AT SARATOGA IS REQUESTED TO ALLOW THE ADDRESS OF THE LETTER TO “BOSTON” IF IT IS NOT COLLECTED FOR IN FIVE DAYS – / T. G. APPLETON ESQ. / [CROSSED OUT: SARATOGA SPRINGS.] / N. YORK
POSTMARK: BOSTON / JUL 6 / MASS.
POSTMARK: SARATOGA SPRINGS / JUL 15 / NY
ANNOTATED, BLUE INK: BOSTON / MASS

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