The Complete Autobiographical Writings of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Герман Мелвилл
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have grown the funniest old men in the world. Am I a funny old man?
I am going to cross over to the Isle of Shoals, this forenoon, and intend to spend several days there, until I get saturated with sea-breezes.
I love thee very much-est;—likewise, the children are very pleasant to think of. Kiss Una—Kiss Julian—Kiss Rosebud—for me! Kiss thyself, if thou canst—and I wish thou wouldst kiss me.
A boat passes between Portsmouth and the Isle of Shoals, every forenoon; and a letter, I presume, would reach me in case of necessity.
I long to see thee. It is breakfast time.
Thine ownest
N. Hawthorne.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Concord, Massachusetts.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
New York, Sunday morng., April 17th, 1853
Dearest,
I arrived here in good condition Thursday night at ½ past 12. Every moment of my time has been so taken up with calls and engagements that I really could not put pen to paper until now, when I am writing before going down to breakfast.
It is almost as difficult to see O'Sullivan here as if he were a hundred miles off. I rode three miles to his home on Friday, and found him not at home. However, he came yesterday, and we talked together until other people came between.
I do wish I could be let alone, to follow my own ideas of what is agreeable. To-day, I am to dine with a college-professor of mathematics, to meet Miss Lynch!! Why did I ever leave thee, my own dearest wife? Now, thou seest, I am to be lynched.
We have an ugly storm here to-day. I intend to leave New York for Philadelphia tomorrow, and shall probably reach Washington on Wednesday.
I am homesick for thee. The children, too, seem very good and beautiful. I hope Una will be very kind and sweet. As for Julian, let Ellen make him a pandowdy. Does Rosebud still remember me? It seems an age since I left home.
No words can tell how I love thee. I will write again as soon as possible.
Thine Ownest Husband.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Philadelphia, Tuesday 19th, 1853
Ownest,
We left New York yesterday at 3 o'clock, and arrived safely here, where we have spent the day. We leave for Washington tomorrow morning, and I shall mail this scribble there, so that thou wilt know that I have arrived in good condition. Thou canst not imagine the difficulty of finding time and place to write a word. I enjoy the journey and seeing new places, but need thee beyond all possibility of telling. I feel as if I had just begun to know that there is nothing else for me but thou. The children, too, I know how to love, at last. Kiss them all for me. In greatest haste (and in a public room),
Thine ownest,
N. H.
Baltimore, Wednesday, 5 o'clock.—Thus far in safety. I shall mail the letter immediately on reaching Washington, where we expect to be at ½ past 9.
With love a thousand times more than ever,
Thinest,
N. H.
Washington, Thursday.—Before Breakfast.
—Dearest, I arrived so late and tired, last night, that I quite forgot to mail the letter. I found about a dozen letters awaiting me at the hotel, from other people, but none from thee. My heart is weary with longing for thee. I want thee in my arms.
I shall go to the President at nine o'clock this morning—shall spend three or four days here—and mean to be back early next week.
Thine Ownest.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Washington, April 28th, Thursday. 1853
Dearest,
The President has asked me to remain in the city a few days longer, for particular reasons; but I think I shall be free to leave by Saturday. It is very queer how much I have done for other people and myself since my arrival here. Colonel Miller is to be here to-night. Ticknor stands by me manfully, and will not quit me until we see Boston again.
I went to Mount Vernon yesterday with the ladies of the President's family. Thou never sawst such a beautiful and blossoming Spring as we have here.
Expect me early in next week. How I long to be in thy arms is impossible to tell. Tell the children I love them all.
Thinest.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Liverpool, July 26th, '54
Dearest Wife,
We had the pleasantest passage, yesterday, that can be conceived of. How strange, that the best weather I have ever known should have come to us on these English coasts!
I enclose some letters from the O'Sullivan's, whereby you will see that they have come to a true appreciation of Mr. Cecil's merits. They say nothing of his departure; but I shall live in daily terror of his arrival.
I hardly think it worth while for me to return to the island, this summer;—that is, unless you conclude to stay longer than a week from this time. Do so, by all means, if you think the residence will benefit either yourself or the children. Or it would be easy to return thither, should it seem desirable—or to go somewhere else. Tell me what day you fix upon for leaving; and I will either await you in person at the landing-place, or send Henry. Do not start, unless the weather promises to be favorable, even though you should be all ready to go on board.
I think you should give something to the servants—those of them, at least, who have taken any particular pains with you. Michael asked me for something, but I told him that I should probably be back again;—so you must pay him my debts and your own too.
It is very lonesome at Rock Ferry, and I long to have you all back again. Give my love to the children.
Thine Ownest.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Liverpool, Sept. 12th, 1854
Dearest,
We arrived safe at Rock Ferry at about ten. Emily had gone to bed, but came down in her night-clothes—the queerest figure I ever saw.
I enclose a letter from thy brother N. It contains one piece of intelligence very interesting to the parties concerned.
Mr. O'Sullivan is going to London, this afternoon. I wish thou wast at home, for the house is very cheerless in its solitude. But it will be only a few days before I see thee again; and in the meantime thou must go to all accessible places, and enjoy thyself for both of us. The barometer goes backward to-day, and indicates a proximate change of weather. What wilt thou do in a rain-storm?
I am weighed down and disheartened by the usual immense pile of American newspapers. What a miserable country!
Kiss all the old people for me—Julian, as well as the others.
Thine ownest,
N. H.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Liverpool, July 30th, 1855
Dearest,
I slept at Lancaster, last night, where I arrived at 10 o'clock; and leaving at ½ past nine, this morning, got here at twelve.
Since leaving you, I have been thinking that we have skimmed the cream of the lakes, and perhaps may as well go somewhere else, now. What if you should come to Liverpool (that is, to Rock Ferry Hotel) and spend a day or two, for the sake of variety, and then go to Matlock or Malvern, or wherever we may think best? Should you conclude to do this, I think you had better take a phaeton & pair from Grasmere to Windermere, and there you can get on the rail. If you wish