ANNA JAMESON 
 
 LETTERS & FRIENDSHIPS 
 EDITED BY MRS. STEUART ERSKINE 
 
 
 
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ANNA JAMESON : 
 
 LETTERS AND FRIENDSHIPS 
 
I 
 
 ANNA MUKI'HY. 
 After a miniature by D. Brownell Murphy. 
 
ANNA JAMESON 
 
 LETTERS AND FRIENDSHIPS 
 
 (1812-1860) 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 MRS. STEUART ERSKINE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 LONDON 
 
 T. FISHER UNWIN, LTD. 
 
 ADELPHI TERRACE 
 
First published in 1915 
 
 
 {All rights reserved) 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. EARLY YEARS 
 >j II. ITALY . 
 
 1^ III. MARRIAGE AND AFTER 
 M 
 
 IV. GERMANY 
 
 V. OTTILIE VON GOETHE 
 VI. A NEW WORLD 
 
 ^* VII. RAMBLES AMONG THE RED MEN 
 
 ID 
 
 ID 
 
 < VIII. LONDON ONCE MORE . 
 
 IX. A FAIR DANCER 
 
 >■ 
 
 lU X. HARRIET MARTINEAU . 
 
 LJ 
 
 C XI. BUSY YEARS 
 
 lU 
 
 89 
 
 XII. IRELAND AND MARIA EDGEWORTH 
 C 
 
 3 XIII. TRAVELS 
 
 XIV. MILESTONES 
 
 XV. ITALY AGAIN 
 
 XVI. THE END 
 
 PAGE 
 
 9 
 17 
 
 39 
 
 67 
 
 96 
 
 III 
 
 129 
 146 
 161 
 182 
 203 
 225 
 246 
 262 
 278 
 301 
 325 
 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 ANNA MURPHY ..... Frontispiece 
 
 After a miniature by D. Brownell Murphy 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 D. BROWNELL MURPHY . . . . 48 
 
 After a drawing by F. L. Chantrey, R.A. 
 
 ROBERT JAMESON . . . . . 1^ 
 
 After a miniature 
 
 CUT PAPER DESIGN BY ADELE SCHOPENHAUER . . I02 
 
 Genius gathers flowers on earth and throws them heavenwards, where 
 they become stars 
 
 MRS. MURPHY ...... I46 
 
 After a miniature 
 
 FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM SAMUEL ROGERS . . 162 
 
 SIR EDWIN LANDSEER, R.A. ..... 186 
 
 After a sketch by Sir J. Hayter, R.A. 
 
 FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM ROBERT BROWNING . . 232 
 
 ANNA JAMESON ...... 242 
 
 After a bust by J. Gibson, R.A., now in the National Portrait Gallery 
 
 " OTTILIE A LA COUR "..... 266 
 After an engraving 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF LOVELACE, nee AUGUSTA ADA BYRON . 282 
 From a daguerreotype 
 
 FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM ELIZABETH BARRETT 
 
 BROWNING ...... 322 
 
 ANNA JAMESON ...... 334 
 
 From a photograph by David Octavius Hill, R.S.A. 
 
 7 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Anna Jameson, so celebrated in her time as a 
 brilliant Avriter on art, has left behind her books 
 that maintain their popularity to the present day. 
 She was a prolific worker, producing travel sketches, 
 essays and addresses on social questions, as well 
 as those writings on artistic subjects on which her 
 fame rests. 
 
 While acknowledging the excellence of her books, 
 which are unique in their own line, we must admit 
 that she was badly equipped as a critic and cared 
 little for the technique of art. In that, however, 
 she was not singular. There was little writing on 
 art in the England of her day and that little was 
 not good ; modern criticism, as we know it, was 
 yet to be born. Ruskin, who practically started 
 the aesthetic movement in this country, was twenty- 
 five years her junior and did not publish the first 
 volume of " Modern Painters " until seventeen 
 years after she had produced " The Diary of an 
 Ennuyee." 
 
 Anna Jameson began her career at an auspicious 
 moment. There were few rivals in the field, and 
 there was room for an author who knew how to 
 
 9 
 
Introduction 
 
 combine solid research with pleasant writing. 
 Interest in art was now extending to all classes, 
 public and private collections were being greatly 
 augmented ; knowledge concerning the contents of 
 galleries and the subjects of the pictures and the 
 history of the artists themselves was eagerly sought. 
 Her handbooks to public and private galleries sup- 
 plied a want ; her essays and articles received 
 immediate recognition. When she started on the 
 great series of books that began with " Sacred and 
 Legendary Art," that book which has been called 
 " a pictorial history of the Church from the Cata- 
 combs to the Seventeenth Century," and ended with 
 the " History of our Lord," (concluded by Lady 
 Eastlake after her death), she wrote again in an 
 auspicious moment because the Tractarian move- 
 ment had reawakened interest in Church history. 
 Yet another small circumstance may have contri- 
 buted to her early success and that was the com- 
 parative scarcity of women writers at that date, 
 especially women writers who cared to attack solid 
 subjects ; she became at once a marked woman 
 and was received with open arms at home and 
 abroad. Her social success was made by her 
 literary reputation and her popularity as a writer 
 gained by her popularity as a woman. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson was, to a great extent, self-taught. 
 She belonged to no school of criticism, was bound 
 by no rules save those dictated by her inner con- 
 sciousness. In her early writings she confessed 
 
 lo 
 
Introduction 
 
 that she detested the works of Michael Angelo ; 
 and, although she afterwards deplored her " imma- 
 ture " judgment, it is probable that, to the end 
 of her days, she preferred the sugary graces of 
 Carlo Dolce to the titanic conceptions of the great 
 Florentine. She loved all that was sweet and 
 gracious in art, all that was glowing in colour, all 
 that suggested sentiment ; having no pose to adopt 
 and no opinions other than her own to consider, 
 she expresses her enthusiasm without restraint. If 
 we are to consider in what particular direction lies 
 the value of the works that she has left as a legacy 
 to posterity, we must admit that it is not to be 
 found in any very original criticism that has come 
 from her pen. In the course of her long life Mrs. 
 Jameson amassed a large amount of accurate know- 
 ledge concerning pictures ; she was exact, inde- 
 fatigable in research, possessed of that " infinite 
 capacity for taking pains " that has been held up 
 to us as genius. While studying pictures she found 
 herself also bound to study ecclesiastical history, 
 legendary lore and symbolism, all of which sub- 
 jects she made her own to a remarkable degree. 
 It is probably these studies that have contributed 
 largely to the value of her work ; whatever the 
 cause, the fact remains that the books of Anna 
 Jameson hold their own in the modern market and 
 continue to be sold when many more pretentious 
 essays in criticism have had their little day and 
 
 been forgotten. 
 
 II 
 
Introduction 
 
 If she was fortunate in her literary career as far 
 as opportunity and appreciation went— for she does 
 not seem at any time to have made much money 
 by her efforts— Anna Jameson was less happy in her 
 private life, which was embittered and overshadowed 
 by an unfortunate marriage. It is difficult to under- 
 stand, at this distance of time, why she did not have 
 this marriage annulled. Perhaps in the early years 
 she hoped against hope for a change to come ; 
 possibly as the years went on she found her position 
 as a married woman, even one living apart from 
 her husband, better suited to her nomad existence 
 than would have been that of a single woman. 
 Whatever her reasons, she continued to bear the 
 name of Jameson, although it is evident from a 
 letter written to her mother, of too private a nature 
 to include among her correspondence, that her 
 marriage was one in name only. Given her Celtic 
 impetuosity and the warmth of her temperament, 
 as well as the family affection and love of home 
 that were among her most salient characteristics, 
 it is easy to see through what deep waters of despair 
 she must have passed before she gained her freedom 
 and even for long years after she had parted from 
 the man who was her legal husband. 
 
 Disappointed in her marriage, the whole tide of 
 her affections welled with renewed force round the 
 members of her family and her intimate friends. 
 Her father, typically Irish and typically an artist, 
 always nursing vague hopes of success and usually 
 
 12 
 
Introduction 
 
 finding himself in embarrassed circumstances, died 
 in 1842, leaving the mother and two unmarried 
 sisters in her charge. Long before this she had 
 been the prop of the family and had denied herself 
 every little luxury in order to give her hardly earned 
 money to her dear ones. Great as the strain was 
 and constant the anxiety as to how to make ends 
 meet, it is certain that she gave without grudging 
 and that she was bound by ties of the sincerest 
 devotion to the home that she was destined to leave 
 so often. When parted from her family she was 
 always watching the post for letters and filling her 
 large sheets of paper with lines of small writing, 
 crossed and re-crossed after the manner of her 
 times, conscious that every little event in her life 
 was of consequence to those she loved and hunger- 
 ing for every scrap of home news : " I have only 
 one thought, wish, fear, hope . . . Home, 
 Home, Home,''^ she wrote from Toronto in 
 1837 ; and the same sentiment is found over and 
 over again in all her letters. 
 
 The life of Anna Jameson was full of movement. 
 She came across many interesting people in London 
 as well as in Paris, Rome, Vienna, and Weimar ; 
 wherever she went she was well received, and 
 appears to have had a great capacity for making 
 friends. Of these the most intimate were Lady 
 Byron and Ottilie von Goethe. The rupture of her 
 intercourse with the former was one of her deep 
 sorrows ; her affection for the latter, the wayward. 
 
Introduction 
 
 impulsive, irritating and fascinating Ottilie, brought 
 the warmth of a great human interest into the last 
 twenty years of her life. With men she formed 
 fewer friendships, though there are some, like 
 Robert Noel and Henry Reeve, who seem to have 
 been admitted to a certain degree of confidence. 
 It is evident that she preferred her own sex and 
 that a certain bitterness persisted, born of her own 
 unhappy experience, fostered perhaps by her inti- 
 macy with Lady Byron, whose " policy of silence " 
 was certainly not maintained in her case. Many 
 of her friends were women working in the fields 
 of social improvement, pioneers in the cause of 
 Woman's Rights, women with whom she became 
 associated because of her printed utterances or her 
 known opinions ; others were dravni to her through 
 literary interests. A glance at her correspondence 
 shows that she was in touch with most of the promi- 
 nent men and women of the day, although many 
 of the letters are not worth reproducing. Amongst 
 her friends she numbered the BroMmings, Procters, 
 Grotes, Joanna Baillie, Harriet Martineau, Sarah 
 Austin, Harriet St. Leger, Maria Edgeworth, Mary 
 Mitford, Elizabeth Gaskell, " L. E. L.", and 
 Geraldine Jewsbury, to mention only a few of 
 the better known ; she was a welcome guest at 
 Rogers' breakfast-table and received more invita- 
 tions than she could possibly accept. In the brilliant 
 Hterary society of Weimar she immediately found a 
 place and was welcomed no less eagerly in the 
 
 14 
 
Introduction 
 
 salon of Madame Mohl in Paris, or in the literary 
 and artistic circles in Rome. 
 
 Anna Jameson was a worker all her life, whether 
 she was occupied with literary research or with 
 those movements for social reform with which her 
 name became associated. She died, as she had 
 lived, in harness, her last public appearance being 
 on the platform of a Social Science meeting at 
 Bradford and her last illness beginning with a chill 
 contracted whilst working up material in the British 
 Museum for the " History of our Lord." 
 
 BEATRICE ERSKINE. 
 
 NOTE 
 
 When Mr. Fisher Unwin placed the Corre- 
 spondence of Anna Jameson in my hands with a 
 view to publication the nations of Europe were at 
 peace with one another. I received, at that time, 
 much useful help from Dr. Mutchmann, then Pro- 
 fessor of German at Nottingham, and, through him, 
 permission from the Keepers of the Goethe and 
 Schiller Archives at Weimar to use certain letters 
 and documents preserved there. After the out- 
 break of war the publication of the letters was 
 necessarily postponed, and now that they are about 
 to be issued a word seems called for with regard 
 to those dealing with the writers' experiences in 
 Germany. They have been left in, not because 
 we have forgotten or forgiven the atrocities com- 
 
 15 
 
Introduction 
 
 mitted during the war, but because they represent 
 the intellectual life in the small States of Germany 
 before Prussia, the " robber State of Europe," 
 swept over its length and breadth with a wave of 
 brutality and militarism that has set the world 
 aflame . 
 
 i6 
 
ANNA JAMESON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EARLY YEARS 
 
 Anna Brownell Murphy, the eldest daughter of 
 Denis Brownell Murphy, a miniature painter of 
 some talent, was born in Dublin in the year 1794 ; 
 in 1798 her parents migrated to a small seaport 
 in Cumberland, where they remained for some years, 
 afterwards settling at Newcastle-on-Tyne. In 
 1803 they went south and lived for some years at 
 Hanwell, finally coming to London about the year 
 1806. 
 
 Mr. Murphy must have prospered in his pro- 
 fession to be able to take rooms in Pall Mall for 
 himself, his wife, his five little daughters ' and their 
 governess, but he does not seem to have had any 
 settled income or to have been ever free from 
 anxiety as to his future. 
 
 As a child Anna was precocious, imaginative, 
 clever and extremely nervous. She would lie 
 
 ^ Anna, Eliza, Louisa, Camilla and Charlotte. 
 
 17 B 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 awake for hours at night, a prey to unimaginable 
 terrors ; in the daytime her vivid fancy occupied 
 itself in attempting to write verse and in compos- 
 ing fairy stories for the benefit of the family. She 
 was so powerfully affected by certain harmonies 
 that she would have to leave the room on hearing 
 them; certain discords made her feel quite ill. 
 With all this sensitiveness she was extremely clear- 
 headed when her thoughts were turned to practical 
 things and she became, at an early age, the right 
 hand of her parents and the acknowledged head of 
 the band of sisters. 
 
 The governess into whose hands the education of 
 the children was entrusted was a Miss Yokeley, 
 who afterwards married Mr. Murphy's brother ; she 
 was a strict, unsympathetic woman, who did not 
 know how to gain the affection of her pupils, 
 although she evidently understood her work as a 
 teacher. Anna acknowledged, in after-days, that 
 she owed much to this lady, who was " one of the 
 cleverest women " she had ever met in her life ; 
 but during her youth she was more occupied with 
 her failings than with her good qualities. She re- 
 joiced in the fact that the governess knew nothing 
 of her inner nature, that she had no key to the 
 realm of imagination in which, as a child, she loved 
 to roam. The friction on one occasion became so 
 acute that the little band of sisters, headed by Anna, 
 ran away from the governess, intending to join their 
 parents then on a visit in Scotland ; they were 
 
Early Years" 
 
 brought f>ack without any more serious loss tliafJ 
 that of one of the baby's red shoes and Mr. 
 Murphy celebrated the event with his pencil. 
 
 The bond that united Anna to her father was a 
 very close one, for it was born of a community of 
 tastes as well as of natural affection ; she learnt 
 much from him and appears to have consulted him 
 in all her small difficulties of composition. The 
 earliest of her letters to her father is without date ; 
 it must be confessed that it is a somewhat priggish 
 effusion, but the earnest endeavour to find the right 
 word already marks her as a writer born. Some 
 verses " To the Violet " were written on the back 
 of the letter. 
 
 Anna Murphy to D. Brownell Murphy. 
 
 My dear Papa,— 
 
 Mama has given me leave to write upon the 
 half of her letter and I take the opportunity of Sending 
 you a httle Effusion which has been ready written since 
 the last Parcel went off I I am not quite satisfied with 
 it myself. I hope you will resolve me a few questions 
 in the first verse and third line, whether I should say 
 " thy form I spied " or " thy bloom I spied " ; in the 
 same verse I use the pronoun you and directly after 
 thou and thy which though Pope and even Milton 
 have been guilty of I am sensible is a great inelegancy ; 
 how shall I correct it? I also use the word flower a 
 great deal to often. I beg leave to dedicate to you 
 my last thing which you said you liked. I went the 
 
 19 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 other morning to Mrs. Wyatts at about one o'clock and 
 found her gambling at that hour ; there were cards 
 mony and Counters on the Table. She has lost my 
 good opinion of her tho' I suppose that is nothing to 
 her nor me niether ; indeed I have been too hasty in 
 lines addressed to her. We were all much concerned 
 to hear of your illness. I am going on very quick 
 with my Italian and am writing Exercises from french 
 into Italian, what makes me apply myself to it is 
 the hope of going down to you. Little Charlotte is as 
 usual and bids me tell you she wants lady Wafer and 
 says you're to " mind that." On account of your late 
 illness we can hardly expect our Debts paid in the 
 next parcel but shall be put off a little while longer. 
 Fare well my dear Papa, if you like to write to me 
 pray tell me a great deal about Miss Thomas who was 
 so good as wish me to come down. 
 
 Your ever affectionate daughter, 
 
 Anna Murphy. 
 
 In another early letter the child encloses a little 
 poem called " The Bat," asking for criticism, and 
 on the back of a paper on which a note is written 
 and signed by Georgina, Duchess of Devonshire, 
 she wrote, in a large childish hand and with certain 
 peculiarities of spelling, some lines on Collingwood. 
 
 The poem was apparently written in a glow of 
 
 patriotic enthusiasm some time after the battle of 
 
 Trafalgar (October 21, 1805); as is well-known, 
 
 Collingwood never returned to " veiw " his native 
 
 land, but died at sea in 18 10. Anna was probably 
 
 about eleven years old when it was written. 
 
 20 
 
Early Years 
 
 COLLINGWOOD. " [' 
 
 With Fame and Victory following in his train, 
 COLLINGWOOD veiws his native land again ! 
 To songs of praise each joyous harp is strung, 
 And happiness resounds from every tongue. 
 E'en I, unskilled in poesy's magic art, 
 Will sing brave Collingwood's exalted part ; 
 For the first time to him will tune my lyre, 
 While Nelson shall my humble verse inspire. 
 Now raised alike in glory and in name — 
 Britain shall boast another son of Fame, 
 Who, bom each honour from Napoleon's head 
 To snatch, and deck the gallant Nelson dead, 
 As yet another champion bold shall rise 
 And as a hero, claim the exalted skies : 
 While Victory loud proclaims, though Nelson's slain 
 Still Britain reigns o'er Neptune's boisterous main. 
 Though first in honour and though first in place. 
 Though first in favour and though first in grace. 
 Though Fame shall weave fresh laurels for his head. 
 Yet still he mourns victorious Nelson dead. 
 But rise ! nor yield to unavailing greif ; 
 Though yet we mourn the dear departed cheif ; 
 'Tis you must snatch from a usurper's hand 
 Those rights which Freedom gave to every land. 
 Our second hero every danger braves, 
 And conquering Britain dares the bellowing waves. 
 Blesses the place where Collingwood drew breath, 
 But mourns the hour when Nelson sunk in death. 
 
 As Anna grew older her character developed ; 
 always energetic, vivacious and self-reliant, she not 
 
 21 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 only dominated the flock of small sisters, but began 
 to be seriously worried at the financial difficulties 
 which beset the family. At the age of twelve she 
 evolved a plan for adopting lace-making as a pro- 
 fession and arranged that she and the obedient 
 sisters were to go to Brussels to learn the art. She 
 thought it all out quite seriously. The children 
 were to follow the Paddington canal as far as it 
 went and then to ask the way to the coast, where 
 they were to embark in a steamer bound for 
 Belgium. The rest was quite simple. 
 
 As this plan did not meet with the approval it 
 deserved, she threw herself with ardour into her 
 studies, devoting herself especially to foreign 
 languages, which always had an attraction for 
 her. At the age of sixteen she took on her 
 shoulders the burden of life in earnest and went 
 out as a resident governess. 
 
 For some time all went well with the struggling 
 artist and his family ; Mr. Murphy, who had been 
 appointed miniature painter to the Princess Char- 
 lotte, was busily engaged in copying Lely's portraits 
 of the ladies of the Court of Charles II in 
 miniature, with a view to her purchasing them. 
 With characteristic carelessness he set about this 
 huge work without any definite understanding, 
 and he writes about it with equally charac- 
 teristic cheerfulness. The date on the post- 
 mark is 1 8 1 2, so Anna was then eighteen years 
 of age. 
 
 22 
 
Early Years 
 
 D. Brownell Murphy to Anna Murphy. 
 
 My dear and very dear Anna,— 
 
 We are happy on your account and this is the 
 only motive we have at present for being so. I went 
 to Windsor two or three days ago and saw Miss Egerton 
 who was eager to know how you and Lady W.' went 
 on together. I told her all I knew of the matter which 
 has pleased her much. She says Lady W. has a treasure 
 in you and that she is sensible of it — this will make you 
 proud of yourself, but carry or bear " your faculties 
 meekly." You will do very well thank God — and your 
 mother and I are quite satisfied at your conduct every 
 way and delighted at the appearance of your future 
 prosperity. I had the honor of an interview with the 
 Queen, there were also the four princesses, all very 
 gracious, none else except the page who introduced 
 me ; it was to shew my beauties which were greatly 
 admired. Her Majesty acted her part with great pro- 
 priety and the Princesses were very good natured — that's 
 all ; but really I met with a most kind reception 
 from my own Princess Charlotte, she is quite delighted 
 with the masquinade box (a new one greatly superior 
 to the one you saw), I told her of General Turner's 
 coolness to the poor beauties, she bad me keep up my 
 spirits and that when she was able (and that time may 
 not be far distant) she would take them herself. 
 
 For reasons that are not given in the letters, 
 Anna soon found herself obliged to leave her situa- 
 tion in order to take a little rest ; it is evident that 
 her nerves were rather unstrung. She writes to 
 ' The Marchioness of Winchester. 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 her mother : " My mind is not well ; I feel as if 
 it were stretched beyond its strength, as if a little 
 repose would save me, my head at least." 
 
 She did not remain long inactive. On June 28, 
 I 8 1 9, we find her writing to her sister Eliza from 
 Bradbourne Park, where she is engaged as gover- 
 ness in the family of Mr. and Mrs. Rowles. After 
 saying, as usual, that she is pining for letters : 
 " I live upon home letters, remember. ... I can- 
 not be happy even with Mrs. Rowles without 
 them . . ." she continues : " I go on very pleas- 
 antly here, Mrs. Rowles is extremely kind and even 
 affectionate ; we are almost inseparable com- 
 panions and begin to know each other better." 
 
 On the 5th July, 18 19, she wrote to her mother 
 and sisters :— 
 
 . . . We are reading the " Tales of my Land- 
 lord " and like them extremely, but as yet I have met 
 with no very striking passages — though Caleb Balder- 
 stone may stand on a par with Cuddie, Douce Davie, 
 as a humorously and strongly drawn low character ; 
 we have not yet finished the second volume. Mrs. 
 Rowles is very fond of being read to and as I am no 
 bad reader this is one of the things in which I can 
 please her. We have read " Mazeppa " which we 
 neither of us hke much. , . . Laura ' is much better, 
 but I am afraid the scars will be a little visible above 
 her dress. As it is useful to know what to do in 
 
 ' Laura Rowles had been severely burni;. 
 24 
 
Early Years 
 
 case of an accident which might happen at any moment 
 I shall inform you that the way to treat a burn or 
 scald is to pour cold water upon it incessantly, till 
 a poultice is prepared made of Oatmeal and the coldest 
 spring water, which must be changed at first every 
 fev/ minutes ; by using this application for nearly a 
 week Laura's hurts, which were frightful, are now nearly 
 healed . 
 
 The weather is abominably fine and hot and confines 
 us to the house the whole day, by the help of iced 
 water, iced cream, iced fruit iced butter and so forth 
 we contrive to exist. In the evening Laura and Henry 
 ride out and Mrs. Rowles and I drive in the Barouche 
 or wander about the garden and grounds which are 
 wild and beautiful. It is clear that I am becoming 
 rather a favourite and I will try and keep up my 
 credit you may be assured. Adieu good people. 
 
 A. B. M. 
 
 It is evident that Anna M^as treated with great 
 kindness by the Rowles, and life was going on 
 smoothly enough when, in the winter of 1820-21, 
 a disturbing element was introduced in the person 
 of a young barrister. Good-looking and agreeable, 
 Robert Jameson, who was a native of Westmor- 
 land and a friend and admirer of Wordsworth, 
 soon made his mark. Anna was at once attracted 
 and repelled by his curiously elusive personality. 
 She appears to have been genuinely in love with 
 him and yet to have realized that their natures 
 were so diflferent that they had little chance of 
 happiness together. An engagement resulted, but 
 
 25 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna very soon broke it off, while declaring her- 
 self to be inconsolable. Unluckily, she had not 
 the strength of mind to cut off all connection with 
 her admirer, who was evidently more persistent as 
 she grew more cold. She declined to marry him, 
 but they kept up an intermittent correspondence 
 during the following year, when she accompanied 
 the Rowles in their travels on the Continent. 
 
 Anna left her native country with an apparently 
 broken heart and a voluminous diary in which to 
 record her troubles and her travels . She even gave 
 vent to her feelings in some verses which begin ;— 
 
 It is o'er, with its pains and its pleasures, 
 The dream of affection is o'er. 
 
 For all this, she was not too much occupied with 
 her own affairs to undertake to arrange for a 
 younger sister ' to spend a year in Paris, and to 
 offer to contribute to her expenses out of her own 
 salary, a promise which she fulfilled faithfully, even 
 when she had not enough money left to pay her 
 washing bills. 
 
 Travelling in the year 1 8 2 i was still a matter of 
 
 some difficulty and could only be indulged in by 
 
 those who were well off ; it had, moreover, a 
 
 delightful spice of uncertainty and adventure to add 
 
 to the pleasures of its votaries. The Rowles travelled 
 
 in their own carriage, attended by their own servants 
 
 and surrounded by all the luxuries, but they were 
 
 ' Louisa Murphy. 
 26 
 
Early Years 
 
 reduced, on more than one occasion, to cooking 
 their own dinner in a wayside inn. Anna was, of 
 course, in a dependent position, which did not admit 
 her to the society that she enjoyed so much in her 
 emancipated days ; she was, moreover, obliged to 
 count every penny she spent. Added to these diffi- 
 cuhies, she was unhappy and undecided about her 
 love affair with Jameson. With all these draw- 
 backs she -evidently managed to get a good deal 
 of amusement out of her new experiences, 
 
 Anna Murphy to Eliza Murphy. 
 
 Paris, 
 
 Sunday, July ist. 
 
 My dearest Eliza,— 
 
 I received your nice kind letter the day after 
 I arrived here. I have another opportunity of sending 
 a letter free and therefore write to say so. I am still 
 amused with Paris and am not yet tired of it though 
 I have been three days here. I can now find my way 
 through the principal streets myself. We have not 
 yet visited any of the principal sights ; our time has 
 been occupied in making ourselves comfortable and 
 presentable . I have been obliged to get a Leghorn 
 hairnet ; they are very much worn here and very ex- 
 pensive ; just the contrary to what I was told in 
 London. My gingham pelisse I wear with a broad 
 black sash and buckle "a la mode de Paris." The 
 outside of the Tuilleries with its great conical roofs 
 and superfluous chimnies does not delight me. The 
 fagade of the Louvre and the Place de Carousel are very 
 
 V 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 fine, but I have had as yet but a cursory glance at 
 them. Our Boulevard is extremely gay, and the people 
 all look so idle and yet so animated and the scene 
 in the evening is so singular, that I know not how to 
 describe it. Imagine an immense street, bordered on 
 each side with a double row of trees and beyond by 
 beautiful hotels and buildings ; between the trees and 
 houses stalls are disposed in which books, prints, 
 pictures, china, cakes, all sort of things in short, are 
 laid out for sale. Before the cafes quantities of chairs 
 are placed and you see crowds of well dressed people 
 and others lounging, walking, sitting, chattering faster 
 than you ever heard any one chatter in England. You 
 meet with a cafd every fifty yards, but one of the most 
 celebrated is Tortonis where we go to eat our ices. 
 Mr. R. has not settled any of his future plans and we 
 all like Paris so much that he may possibly stay here 
 longer than he at first intended. . . . Yesterday we 
 went to the Marche aux Fleurs, one of the prettiest 
 places I have yet seen — it is on the banks of the river — 
 between two rows of trees. The flower stalls are dis- 
 posed on each side and the most beautiful plants, 
 jasmins, oleanders, orange trees etc., may be had at 
 a very low price. Mrs. Rowles has her salon arranged 
 with all her usual comforts and luxuries around her 
 —abundance of flowers of course. We have just been 
 out to see the procession of the Fete de Dicu in which 
 the Host is carried through the streets. ... I re- 
 member that last Sunday, as we stopped at Blangy— 
 between Abbeville and Neufchatcl, there was a Fete 
 de Dieu and I met a most beautiful child dressed up 
 fantastically with beads, flowers etc., and a long muslin 
 veil hanging from the top of her head and floating 
 
Early Years 
 
 down her shoulders. Rather surprised at her appear- 
 ance I asked her name ; she replied blushing, 
 "Madame, je suis la sainte Vierge." 
 
 Anna Murphy to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Paris, 
 
 Saturday and Sunday. 
 
 My dearest Mamma,— 
 
 You are I suppose by this time in London and 
 I shall direct this to Weymouth Street. I hope you 
 like the arrangement I have made for dear Louisa. 
 She will have this advantage above all the rest, without 
 which I should not have felt able to have left her in 
 Paris, the MacGowans will be within a short distance 
 and she has them to have recourse to in any difficulty. 
 I wish very much that it had been in my power to spend 
 a week gaily with her before I left Paris ; I mean, to 
 have taken her to the theatres and some interesting 
 sights, but this cannot be. I have restricted myself 
 to the most rigid economy, not only in great things 
 but little things. I find that the difficulty is to take 
 care of one's small change. Here there are no bank 
 notes and but very little gold, all the money is in 
 small silver and one is tempted every moment by some 
 cheap article of beauty or convenience which is thought 
 a great deal of in England ; then, having one's small 
 money ever ready, it is apt to melt away in francs and 
 ten francs. I have now resolved, and keep to my 
 resolution, to spend no money whatever. I find that 
 to pay my washerwoman is as much as I can do_, for 
 washing is the diable. Every gown if done nicely 
 costs from three to six francs (half a crown to five 
 shillings). 
 
 29 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 You will be surprised to hear me say that I greatly, 
 dislike Paris, or rather that I do not like it. I wish 
 we were travelling again. I know not a single person ; 
 I have no society to unbend my mind. Mrs. R. goes 
 out a great deal and my evenings are spent quite 
 alone. I cannot procure myself amusement but at a 
 rate too extravagant and I am tired of looking at the 
 people and the fine things ; yet Paris is in itself a 
 delightful place and the first three days were spent in 
 rapture. I can hardly give you an idea of the splendour 
 of the shops ; their signs too are so ridiculous that 
 I have often been amused during a long drive by 
 looking at them and nothing else. Every shop has a 
 sign and as the Parisians pique themselves on their 
 sentiment (a very expressive word in French) they 
 are sentimental even in their signs. A stationer lives 
 at the Billet Doux I a hosier at Pygmalion and Galatea, 
 a shoemaker at Paul and Virginia, a linen draper at 
 the Grave of God, a china shop Au pauvre Diable, a 
 lingerie at the Little Virtue, a silk mercer at the Well- 
 Beloved — le bien aimd. The Providence of God and the 
 Holy Ghost are common signs, and a coffee house near 
 us is at the sign of the Prophet Elisha. Are they not 
 strange people? ... I think on the whole that Pere 
 la Chaise struck me more than anything I have yet 
 seen, even more than the magnificent Louvre. The 
 gallery of the Louvre is i,8oo feet in length without 
 any break to intercept the view. I can give you no idea 
 of the coup d'oeil, you can scarcely see the end of it 
 The walls are covered with pictures, some of them 
 exceedingly fine, there are specimens of all the most 
 celebrated painters; in short though I have been three 
 times at the Louvre, I have never reached the end of it 
 
 30 
 
Early Years 
 
 yet, though I have spent from one to two hours and a 
 half there whenever I went. The theatre is the only 
 amusement I care much about, and that is quite out 
 of my power. Mrs. R. detests going because the houses 
 are not ventilated; I cannot go alone, and the 
 MacGowans are not in town. We have been twice, 
 both times to minor theatres, of which there are a great 
 number, and all good in their way. At the Gymnase 
 Drarnatique there is a child of 12 years old who is a 
 little Mrs. Jordan; we have not on the English stage 
 a coming artiste who would not appear awkward, forced, 
 and inanimate when compared to her. Those who have 
 not seen a French comedy have no idea of acting in its 
 perfection. . . . We have removed from our magnifi- 
 cent hotel on the Boulevards to the Rue St. Honore. 
 We none of us like the change ; we are not comfortably, 
 lodged, and instead of my suite of three rooms to 
 myself I have not even a schoolroom. But these are 
 trifling inconveniences. 
 
 Last Sunday we were at St. Cloud where the King 
 resides for the present. The park and gardens are 
 romantic and beautiful. The common people were walk- 
 ing about at their ease, and in different parts of the 
 park were round-abouts and platforms for dancing. The 
 water-works play every Sunday for the amusement of 
 the public, and they are really beautiful. To-day Mrs. 
 Rowles dines out ; she has left me the carriage and 
 I shall take all the children to St. Cloud immediately 
 after an early dinner. We shall spend the rest of the 
 day there, sup in the gardens upon coffee, cream and 
 fruit (a la francaise) and return at bedtime. I shall 
 make the little elfs as happy as I can. How you would 
 enjoy such a day ! All of you ! St. Cloud is about 
 
 31 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 six miles from Paris; the palace is beautiful, but 
 modest. 
 
 Louisa Murphy arrived in Paris before her sister 
 left and was duly installed in the Pension that 
 had been found for her, where she was to spend 
 a year studying French and fitting herself for a 
 position as governess. 
 
 Anna Murphy to FJiza Murphy. 
 
 Paris, 
 
 August 8, 182 1, 
 
 My dearest Eliza,— 
 
 I suppose Louisa has given you an account of 
 our excursion to Fontainebleau, since then I have spent 
 a day at Versailles; the palace there did not disappoint 
 me because I had not raised my expectations very high. 
 The gardens are quite in old formal style. Groves cut 
 and trimmed fantastically, straight walks, and fountains 
 which looked very pretty and very absurd ; the French 
 taste for waterworks seems ridiculous. . . . 
 
 Louisa mentions that Mr. Jameson has some intention 
 of going to Switzerland. I wish you would find out 
 when and how he goes, and what part of Switzerland 
 he is going to visit. ... If a small parcel has been 
 left for me pray take extreme care of it as I value it 
 particularly, and send it by Mr. Jameson if he comes 
 or l)y the first opportunity. 
 
 Louisa's letter is gone I find, and therefore I shall 
 send this by the bag. 
 
 Adieu, dearest. 
 32 
 
Early Years 
 
 Anna Murphy to Louisa Murphy. 
 
 Geneva, 
 
 September 23, 182 1. 
 
 My dearest Father, Mamma, and dear 
 GIRLS all,— 
 I shall send this thro' Louisa that she may either 
 forward the letter itself or the substance of it by Mr. 
 Creeds' bag. She can always send a double letter, and 
 postage is the diable. Now where shall I begin, and 
 how shall I attempt to describe all I have seen? When 
 I awoke this morning and heard the swishing of the 
 blue Rhone past my window, it seemed like a dream 
 and I closed my eyes again ; but it is real, those 
 are the Alps, those are clouds sailing over their 
 summits, there rises Mont Blanc, that is the Rhone 
 rushing from the bosom of the lake. I am lost, I 
 am confused in the multiplicity of new images and 
 new ideas which crowd upon me and overcome by 
 new sensations, which I cannot express. I must try 
 to write you a connected but a short account of our 
 journey. I keep a journal where I am more minute 
 than I can be in a letter and that shall be read when 
 I return to you. Begin by spreading a map of France 
 before you and follow me if you can from Paris (where 
 I gave poor dear Louisa the slip and set off at eight 
 o'clock). We got to Melun, where we dined and 
 slept ; we were stopped by an accident or should have 
 gone further. From Melun to Villeneuve le Roi along 
 the beautiful banks of the Yonne, a delightful day's 
 journey of about 60 miles. Next day to Avallon, 
 through a barren hilly country, thence through a most 
 beautiful romantic country to Dijon where we spent a 
 
 33 c 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 day. Dijon disappointed me. The Muscle, once cele- 
 brated, is in a ruinous neglected state, and contains 
 nothing but Rubbish, with the single exception of an 
 exquisite Holy Father by Carlo Dolce. I saw nothing at 
 Dijon which much amused me ; we left it on Thursday 
 morning and reached Poligny that night, a long and 
 not very pleasant day's journey. Poligny is a small 
 town at the foot of the Juras. We slept here at a 
 detestable inn and the next morning we began to ascend 
 the Jura Mountains. I say nothing of the scenery ; 
 all description must fall short of reality. We pursued 
 a road which wound along the sides of the mountains, 
 on one side deep ravines and tremendous precipices 
 clothed with forests of pines ; on the other rocks and 
 cliffs almost perpendicular. Every little valley we 
 peeped into was well cultivated and scattered over with 
 hamlets and cottages which looked very much like 
 baby houses of cards when compared with the gigantic 
 features of the scenery. We travelled this day over 
 40 miles in ten hours, hard work too, at length 
 descending a tremendous declivity which made Louisa' 
 shut her eyes, we arrived at Moray, a most beautiful 
 little town, quite enclosed in stupendous mountains and 
 traversed by a rapid torrent, as clear as crystal. We 
 slept here at an excellent little inn where they gave 
 delicious honey and strawberries for supper and break- 
 fast. We left Morey at eight yesterday morning 
 and continued to ascend the mountains till near three 
 o'clock. I walked nearly six miles this morning, up 
 hill and scrambled over cliffs. We were almost tired 
 of screaming out to each other to admire, when lo ! 
 having reached the highest point of the Jura, or rather 
 ' Louisa Rowles. 
 34 
 
Early Years 
 
 of the road over the Jura, turning round a cliff we 
 came suddenly upon a scene which I cannot find words 
 to describe. It overwhelms me even in recollection. 
 An immense valley was spread out below ; we looked 
 down upon the Lake of Geneva, which though nearly 
 30 miles off seemed at our feet. The back -ground 
 was the magnificent Alps, glittering in the sun, while 
 we stood in the shade ; light fleecy curling clouds, 
 white as snow, rested upon the sides of the dark moun- 
 tains ; between us and distant mountains of Savoy, 
 towering over all, rose Mont Blanc. When I have told 
 you such were the objects we saw I have said all I 
 can say. The Panorama of Lausanne if you remember 
 it will give you a better idea of the effect than :any 
 words. \Ve had great difficulty in procuring even a 
 night's lodging and were very wretchedly off. This 
 morning we have removed to a very tolerable hotel, 
 where we have good accomodations. Unfortunately it 
 has poured rain ever since, but as we have had heavenly 
 weather ever since we left Paris we have no reason to 
 complain. The continual excitement of the last few days 
 has left us all a little ennuye and fatigued, more in 
 spirits than in body. The children are greatly provoked 
 by the wet weather, for an open caleche and a laquais 
 de place wait our orders to take us somewhere or every- 
 where and I see no prospect of a gleam of sunshine 
 to-day. I pray most earnestly for a fine day to- 
 morrow. I go in the close carriage with the children 
 early in the morning while the air is chill ; about 
 eleven there is a general turn out and the servants 
 turn in. I go either in the barouche with Mrs. R. or 
 on the box with Mr. R. Louisa and I take this seat 
 by turns. The scenes which occur sometimes at the 
 
 35 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 little inns where we munch are the most amusing you 
 can imagine. We seize upon the people's eatables, 
 take possession of their frying pans, lift up their pot- 
 lids, open their cupboards, while the astonished natives 
 siare with open mouths. At St. Laurent I remember 
 we came to a wretched auberge where we found an 
 empty kitchen without a fire and were told that there 
 was nothing to eat. In half an hour we had cooked 
 and eaten an excellent dinner of fresh eggs, ham, fried 
 trout, and sweetmeats. Mr. Rowles is an excellent 
 Chef de Voyage and pays well for all the fuss he 
 makes. 
 
 I hope I shall hear from some of you while I am 
 here. I am quite well and in good spirits. 
 Ever your most affec'^, 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Anna Murphy to Eliza Murphy. 
 
 Geneva, 
 
 September 27, 1821. 
 
 . . . These Alps make me ill, almost they suffo- 
 cate me. All the descriptions I ever heard or jead 
 give me but a faint idea of the magnificent reality. 
 We cannot visit Lausanne this time as we could not 
 spare three days out of six which we spend here — 
 I am much disappointed but it will only be deferred. 
 We rode on the lake one lovely day — it is as clear 
 as Crystal, and as blue as heaven ; the pebbles are 
 distinctly seen at the bottom where the water is at 
 least sixteen to twenty feet in depth — the reflection 
 of Mont Blanc (60 miles off) is seen in the lake. 
 Yesterday we drove to Coppet ; it was a delightful 
 
 36 
 
Early Years 
 
 day. The Chateau is in itself beautiful and you 
 may imagine with what reverence I visited every room ; 
 there is a most beautiful statue of Necker in the 
 library and many other things worth seeing — a picture 
 of Madame de Stael, when young, exhibited a figure 
 and countenance the most striking and expressive I 
 ever beheld. I talked a good deal to the woman 
 who showed us about ; she had lived 1 5 years with 
 Madame de Stael and was very intelligent. It is well- 
 known that Madame de Stael was married a second 
 time, a few years before she died, to M. Rocca, 
 but it is not generally known that a son exists 
 by this marriage, now a fine boy about ten years 
 old. She is accused of neglecting this child and I 
 fear with truth. On our return from Coppet — it was 
 a most glorious sunset, such a sky as you never saw 
 in England — the summits of Mont Blanc and his 
 compeers were lighted up with crimson and a soft 
 rose-coloured vapour floated over the hills and lake ; 
 but description is nonsense ; you never saw anything 
 so lovely, so magnificent. 
 
 To-day we go to Ferney ; Saturday morning we set 
 off for Italy. .Wie expect to reach Milan in five or 
 six days, travelling leisurely ; we ascend the Simplon 
 one day and descend it the next. I would wish all 
 my letters to be directed to " Soin de Mr. Rowles, 
 Poste Restante, Florence, Italie." 
 
 I am quite well — the children better since the 
 measles ; they are excellent travellers. I am afraid 
 I am the worst traveller of the party and suffer most 
 from fatigue though I will not allow it. I am quite 
 knocked up every evening but it affects neither my 
 health nor spirits. Geneva is not in itself a pretty 
 
 37 
 
 
Anna fameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 town ; the houses have all projectmg roofs supported 
 by beams of wood and forming a sort of portice. 
 Between the houses and middle of the streets run rows 
 of covered stalls or shops which give the streets a 
 narrow crowded appearance. The river Rhone rushes 
 out of the lake with a rapidity which makes me giddy 
 to look at it ; the current of the river through the lake 
 is not visible, but perceptible when you are in a boat. 
 The boatman who rowed us was with Lord Byron in 
 that stomi which he describes in the 3rd canto of 
 Childe Harold between Mcillerie and St. Gingolph ; he 
 was nearly lost. Lord Byron is well known here, and 
 has excited great interest. 
 
 I keep an exact journal every day which I hope will 
 afford you all some amusement. Mrs. Rowles is very 
 kind to me — Mr. Rowles very tiresome — a complete 
 wet blanket. Adieu my dear Mamma and Papa. I 
 shall write from Florence where I hope to find a letter 
 from you. God bless you all. I left with Louisa 
 a draught on Rothschild for her next quarter. Adieu 
 once more. Heaven prosper you all. 
 
 Ever your affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 
 38 
 
CHAPTER II 
 ITALY 
 
 Anna Murphy to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Milan, 
 Saturday, October 6, 182 1. 
 
 . . . .We quitted Geneva on the 29th and 
 travelled along the south banks of the lake — the dear 
 lake (for I have fallen in love with it and shall never, 
 I think, behold anything to equal it), to St. Gingolph 
 near which place the Rhone falls into the lake. The 
 scenery I cannot attempt to describe — and when I have 
 told you that we had the lake with deep blue 
 transparent waters at out feet — and Lausanne, Vevey, 
 Clarens and the castle of Chillon before us — and 
 mountains of every variety of hue and form around 
 us, you may form some idea, not of the scene itself, 
 but of the pleasure it imparted. We pursued our 
 course along a narrow valley along the banks of the 
 Rhone to St. Maurice where we slept. The next day 
 we still pursued our course through a narrow mountain 
 valley enclosed by tremendous mountains capped with 
 snow, which had fallen a few days before ; the scenery 
 wild beyond description. We slept this night at the 
 Tourtemagne — the next day we arrived at Brieg at the 
 
 39 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 foot of the Simplon, with eight horses. I walked four 
 or five miles this day (as the slow motion of the carriage 
 fatigued me) until excess of fatigue rendered repose 
 grateful. When we reached the "highest point of the 
 road, tlie snow lay on the ground and the icicles hung 
 on the rocks around us ; the cold was bitter and the 
 wind roared through the chasms of the mountains with 
 a violence that terrified my Laura who was in the 
 caleche with me. We had been delayed behind the 
 others by an accident which happened to our dray 
 chain. At last we reached the village of the Simplon, 
 where we slept ; the next morning we descended the 
 mountain to Domo d'Ossola. I know not what to say 
 of the Simplon ; it has astonished me more than 
 anything I ever saw or could have imagined. The 
 descent on the Italian side is marvellous and such 
 wild terrific scenery, such perpendicular rocks, fathom- 
 less abysses, torrents, cataracts, bridges and galleries 
 cut through the solid rock — but description is nonsense, 
 it is impossible for words to give a just idea of what 
 I have seen, ... At Domo d'Ossola we spent half 
 a day. We ascended a beautiful romantic hill covered 
 with groves and vine -yards and sat down under the 
 treillage to eat grapes and figs which we gathered 
 ourselves. This was the first place where Italian was 
 spoken and which looked like Italy ; we had left 
 winter in the Simplon and by the time we reached 
 Domo d'Ossola we were panting with the heat. The 
 next day we reached the banks of the Lago Maggiore 
 where we sent on the carriage and servants to Arona 
 and embarked in a boat to visit the Borromean Isles ; 
 to describe these would be an endless task. We 
 continued our journey in the boat to Arona where 
 
 40 
 
Italy 
 
 we slept. From the boat we had a view of the 
 famous colossal statue of St. Charles Borromeo, which 
 is seventy -two feet in height, besides the pedestal which 
 is thirty-six. At Arona I first saw the beautiful 
 Milanese costume which is universal here ; a white or 
 black veil fastened on the top of the head and the two 
 ends brought down before ; it is the most elegant 
 picturesque dress I have yet seen. They all carry a 
 fan in their hand and a little work-bag on the arm. 
 The peasantry wear silver pins in their hair like the 
 little drawing I made for you, but their hair never 
 looked nice. 
 
 Last night we went to the Theatre of the Marionettes 
 where we saw a tragedy, a divertissement, a Ballet 
 d'action and a farce all acted by puppets, the whole 
 most ridiculous and the effects really wonderful — such 
 dancing is only to be seen at the Opera and we all 
 laughed till we were tired — for once it is worth seeing. 
 To-night we go to the Opera, or at least Mrs. Rowles 
 goes and I have some hopes of going too. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 November i, 1821. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — 
 
 ... I must now give some account of myself — 
 and first assure you my dearest Mamma that I am 
 much better than I have been for some time past and 
 am beginning to grow fat and " well-favoured." I 
 shall live to return to England in spite of prognostics 
 and astonish you all with the wonders I have seen. 
 My letter to my Aunt brought me down to the 23rd 
 of Oct. at Venice ; we left Venice the 26th — we were 
 there too short a time, it interested me more than any 
 
 41 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 place I have yet seen. I shed tears on losing eight of 
 it, though I left nothing behind to regret but itself, 
 so deep was the impression it made on me. In a few 
 years Venice will be no longer Venice, so rapid is 
 its decay. Mr. Hoppner is Consul there and as he is 
 very intimate with Mrs. R. we saw a great deal of 
 him ; his wife is a pleasing woman, a Swiss full of 
 animation and good humour. From Venice we went 
 to Padua again, a dull, disagreeable place. At Ferrara 
 we visited the cell in which Tasso was confined under 
 pretence of his being mad ; 7 years confinement 
 in such a place was enough to make him so. At 
 Bologna we spent one day and saw nothing worth 
 seeing, except the opera there ; after leaving Bologna 
 we began to ascend the Appennines which extend 
 almost to Florence. The scenery amongst the 
 Appennines is not so wild and striking as the 
 Alps, but very beautiful ; such lovely sunny vallies ; 
 such skies ! — all that I ever heard or read of Italian 
 skies fall short of the reality. I know not how to 
 describe in the compass of a letter all the beauties I 
 have seen ; no one has seen the moon and stars who 
 has not beheld them from the mountains — they seem 
 to shine between us and heaven and it will give you 
 some idea of the climate wJien I tell you that to-day I 
 really suffered from the heat and felt the shade a 
 grateful relief — in November ! What are you doing 
 in foggy old England? I must confess that the 
 mornings and evenings are chill but so clear, so 
 brilliant; this country is a paradise— in ruins. I 
 have been impressed at every step with a mingled 
 feeling of delight and melancholy and though I have 
 been disappointed in many of my projects of pleasure 
 
 42 
 
Italy 
 
 and improvement, that is not the fault of the country 
 but of the situation in which I am placed. 
 
 We slept one night at a little Inn among the 
 mountains and the next day we descended into the 
 plains of Tuscany and arrived at Florence just as the 
 sun was setting in a cloudless sky and the par pie light 
 of evening (no poetical exaggeration) floated over the 
 valleys and over the distant hills. Florence is a most 
 cheerful-looking place; our Inn is Schneider Hotel — 
 the best here — it looks out upon the Arno between 
 two beautiful bridges and we are nearly opposite to 
 the house which belonged to Alfieri and which is 
 now inhabited by the Countess of Albany.' Our 
 accommodations are almost princely ; I must say for 
 Mr. R. that he does not spare money, but I hate the 
 parade and fuss with which we travel. 
 
 I keep two journals — one contains merely notes of 
 the places we stop at and everything we see — the other, 
 which I always keep under lock and key, contains 
 an exact and faithful account of my own impressions 
 with all the little anecdotes, sketches of character etc., 
 which I pick up from my own observations and those 
 of others and also descriptions of scenery taken down 
 on the spot. I have been very careful to be exact 
 and accurate and true in every respect ; if my lively 
 imagination makes things appear to me in more glowing 
 colours than to others, that is not my fault. I describe 
 as I see. . . . 
 
 I have not seen much of Florence yet ; I have not 
 even paid my devotions to the Venus de Medicis. I 
 
 ' The Countess of Albany, Princess Louise of Stolberg, widow 
 of Prince Charles Edward Stuart (1752-1824). 
 
 43 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 visited the Church of Santa Croce yesterday alone — 
 it is the Westminster Abbey of Florence. 
 
 1 will write to you again before I leave Florence ; 
 if you write the beginning of next month direct soin 
 de Rowlcs, Poste Restante, Roma — if before, direct here 
 as before. I have not laid out one penny idly since I 
 left Paris, but have resisted all temptation. I must buy 
 myself a new gown, and alas how much I regret my 
 cloth pelisse ; it would be a treasure here, for I am 
 told tliat the winter, while it lasts, is particularly cold, 
 especially here. . . . Mother — sisters — all 1 love — I 
 promised Mr. Jameson I would write to him on a 
 certain condition. I have written twice from Paris and 
 from Geneva; tell him so. 
 
 Anna Murphy to Louisa Murphy. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 November /[th. 
 
 . . . When we were in the north of Italy be- 
 tween Milan and Venice the vintage was going on. 
 While travelling along the road bordered on each side 
 by vineyards in which they were gathering the grapes 
 and where the vines were elegantly trained in festoons 
 from tree to tree, we used to meet " red waggons " 
 loaded with grapes and at the doors of the houses men 
 treading the grapes or walking about with their legs 
 stained half way up of a deep purple red. The country 
 seemed fertile beyond description, yet the people looked 
 miserable and ugly. 
 
 We heard a good deal of music at Venice; one night 
 I was awoke by a serenade, and such delicious music 
 1 should have thought it a dream, if everybody had not 
 
 44 
 
Ital 
 
 y 
 
 been as much enchanted as myself. Venice struck me 
 more than anything I have seen on this side of the Alps 
 — it was so unlike anything in this world but itself 
 that I know not to what to compare it; it is a very 
 melancholy place, decaying rapidly and yet so mag- 
 nificent in its decay that our wonder and compassion 
 arise together. I was not there long enough to be 
 tired of it and left it with a regret almost painful. 
 I stood upon the Bridge of Sighs and I wished to have 
 visited the celebrated dungeons, not from a vain curiosity 
 or love of horrors, but from a wish to impress a real 
 picture on my mind from which I might paint in words 
 at some future time. I could not accomplish this — for 
 I nearly fainted at the entrance and was obliged to be 
 brought out. ... I sat down on the steps of the Giant's 
 Staircase where Marino Faliero was beheaded. . . . 
 
 We crossed the Apennines in two days ; they are 
 not to be compared to the Alps, but the scenery was 
 beautiful — our carriages were drawn up by oxen, so 
 steep was the ascent in some parts. The weather was 
 cloudless and brilliant but cold and windy on the 
 summits. The descent to Florence I cannot describe; 
 the city embosomed in woody hills crowned with castles 
 and convents, the Amo winding through the valley, 
 the rosy sunset, the beautiful little moon shining out 
 of the sky, but all this is words, and words cannot paint 
 nature. We have not been to the Gallery yet, but / 
 have on the sly; my impatience would not wait. I 
 saw the Venus and only the Venus; I would not, after 
 looking at her, efface or weaken the impression on my 
 imagination for worlds. I cannot describe her, I can 
 only say that my mind was satisfied with beauty; those 
 were the expressions which first occurred to me when 
 
 45 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 I could speak of it. No statue no cast or copy would 
 ever give a perfect idea of it. One thing struck me, 
 that in all the casts the position of the head is stiff, but 
 not so in the original— the whole is perfection; had 
 she walked off her pedestal I should have been de- 
 lighted, but scarcely astonished. I bought as much 
 silk this morning as will make me a very handsome 
 winter dress and I paid twenty-three shillings English 
 for it— fifty-four paoli— this is cheap, is it not? 
 
 Anna Murphy to Camilla Murphy. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 November 12, 1821. 
 
 Florence is a delightful place; the Arno runs 
 through the middle of it, just in front of our Inn; on 
 each side there is a broad paved way and the opposite 
 side is the Rendezvous of the common people on Sunday, 
 when it as as crowded and gay as Hyde Park — all 
 Canaille, but the Canaille here have a look which is 
 not \ailgar. The women of the lower classes wear 
 beaver hats something like men's hats with large plumes 
 of black feathers stuck upright in them, and when four 
 or five meet together and talk with all the gesticulations 
 and animation peculiar to this people, a spectator would 
 take them for so many tragedy queens. I wish you had 
 seen the mantua-maker kiss Mrs. R.'s hand, most grace- 
 fully to-night, after trying on a gown; but there is 
 no end to the amusing things we see here. ... In 
 Florence the chief attraction is of course the celebrated 
 gallery. I have been there six times and can truly say 
 that I have not seen the half of what I wish to see; 
 I have scratched a sort of plan of it. You walk between 
 
 46 
 
Italy 
 
 rows of fine antique statues and busts, round the narrow 
 gallery, which opens into rooms containing the pictures, 
 gems etc.; the room m which the Venus de Medicis 
 stands is called the " Tribune " — it is paved with mosaic 
 of marble and the walls are mother-of-pearl, lapis- 
 lazuli, and other precious materials. A few exquisite 
 pictures hang round — four of Raffaelle's; but I cannot 
 particularize. I have seen, since I came to Italy, such 
 exquisite pictures by painters one hardly hears of in 
 England ! I saw two pictures lately of Carlo Dolce's, 
 a Magdalen in the Gallery, and a head representing 
 Poetry in the Corsini Palace. I shall never see again 
 such pictures ; the most brilliant and at the same time 
 the most delicate colouring, fresh as if just taken from 
 the easel, and with that peculiar sentiment and expres- 
 sion which belongs only to Carlo Dolce. To " Poetry " 
 he has given red hair, literally as red as mine, and it 
 did not strike me as ugly. But these are things not 
 very amusing to you perhaps ; in books of travel they 
 puff off a few chef d'oeuvres, of which one hears till one 
 is sick of them. I have been most pleased with the 
 very things I never heard of before. 
 
 Laura has got a nice little horse and a stylish hat and 
 feathers, and she is the admiration of all Florence; she 
 looks the picture of health and loveliness ; the Grand 
 Duke, whom we meet every day at the Cascine, always 
 notices them and gives them Sugar plums. I hope to 
 find a letter from Romie, and as our stay will be short 
 write directly. I believe I have no more to add except 
 that I love you all extremely, a piece of news which will 
 at least please from its novelty. God bless you and 
 prosper you all — 
 
 Ever your own affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 47 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Murfyliy to D. B. Murphy. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 November 29, 182 1. 
 
 ... I continue better in health and have reason 
 to be grateful for it; I have suffered so very much, I 
 cannot well bear fatigue, but I take care never to utter 
 the least complaint and to be as cheerful as possible; 
 no one can enjoy more than I do the beauties around 
 me or seize with more avidity the advantages presented 
 to me. My attachment to Mrs. R. makes me happy 
 to be with her; though real pain of heart has a good 
 deal damped my natural disposition to excitement and 
 enthusiasm, I like to keep my mind tranquil and my 
 imagination free and alive to all impressions of pleasure. 
 I do not think any, of the objects presented to me, 
 whether beautiful, wonderful, wild or amusing, are lost 
 upon me. My only extravagance (if such it can be 
 called) is having an Italian master regularly, and this 
 I think you would like me to do, as it is not only a 
 great advantage to me now, but will be of the greatest 
 use to me hereafter. ... I denied myself a winter 
 dress that I might have an Italian master. Mrs. R. 
 has made me a present of as much beautiful velvet as 
 will make me a Spenser, so in that respect I shall do 
 very well. . . . It is in Italy that one most feels the 
 influence of the fine arts. I think the climate and the 
 scenery, by exciting the imagination, prepares it to be 
 more sensible to the beauties, the ideal beauties, which 
 are presented to the eye in painting and sculpture ; for 
 here (as some author says) the loves and the graces 
 liave descended to inhabit the hard marble and to dwell 
 in the presentments of lights and shadows. The common 
 
 48 
 

 D. BROWXELL MURPHY. 
 
 After a drawing by F. L. Chantrey, K A. 
 
 To face p. 48. 
 
Ital 
 
 y 
 
 people here seem more susceptible to the impressions 
 of beauty than elsewhere, but of the inhabitants I shall 
 never speak because I have no opportunities of associ- 
 ating with the better classes, and with the lower classes 
 I have little to do. The tradespeople are most egregious 
 cheats ; not among themselves I believe, but they seem 
 to consider the English as fair prey. I always offer 
 the half, and generally pay the half, I am asked for 
 an article; you may have everything cheap, if you 
 know how to set about a bargain. I have endeavoured 
 to make one or two little sketches while I have been 
 here. . . . Nothing can be more beautiful than the 
 woody hills round Florence, intermixed with singular 
 looking buildings and tall cypresses looking over the 
 groves and vineyards now somewhat changed by the 
 approaching winter. From the walls of Florence to the 
 foot of the Apennines, it is all one vast garden, inter- 
 spersed with villas and villages. In Florence the 
 palaces of the nobles look much like fortresses; these 
 are huge square buildings of massy stones and through 
 the whole city, you trace vestiges of a proud republic, 
 distracted by cruel factions within, even when most 
 formidable without. The best description of Florence 
 I remember was in Corinne; Madame de Stael has 
 seized the most striking points and thrown them together 
 like a painter, I could myself describe some scenes 
 to you which would seem very like romance, for here 
 every day, to one who is a quiet looker-on like myself, 
 presents something strange and the common objects, 
 the air, earth, and skies, are romance. I went on Sunday 
 evening to hear Vespers in Santa Croce and staid till 
 it was almost dark; while one end of the church was 
 dimly lighted by the tapers which were round the glitter- 
 
 49 D 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 ing altar, the other was lost in the blackest shade. 
 I could just distinguish through the gloom the white 
 marble tombs where Galileo, Michel Angelo, Alfieri 
 and other great characters reposed. The chanting of 
 the via Crucis from a little chapel in the cloisters, now 
 and then fell upon the car and the whole scene was, I 
 think, the most solemn and touching I ever experienced. 
 I write hurriedly and carelessly, or I might put all this 
 into better language, language at least which would 
 better convey what I felt ; but I have no time for de- 
 scription. The common people in the streets here swear 
 by Diaiia and Bacchus — and sometimes by the devil 
 and capers ; they all look animated and industrious and 
 I believe the Tuscan states are the best governed in 
 Italy : in the northern parts of Italy, Lombardy and 
 Venice, the people looked wretched and depressed. I 
 have not quite recovered my regret at leaving Venice 
 — if ever I revisit the Continent it will be to see that 
 place again. . . . The house of the Countess of Albani 
 is the general Rendezvous for the English; she is, you 
 know, the widow of the Pretender and the widow or 
 something else of the celebrated Alfieri whose house 
 is just opposite to us. She is described to me as very 
 like an old Cook maid in her appearance and gives 
 herself, they all say, the airs of a princess. I should 
 like to see her, but this is impossible; my dependent 
 situation cuts me quite out of society and I have felt 
 it more abroad than anywhere, but I am well content 
 as it is and think myself fortunate in the opportunities 
 afforded me of beholding these objects of which I have 
 dreamed from my very childhood. 
 
 Saturday, Dec. is/.— I hope to-day will bring me 
 some letters ; it is not fair only to write to me once for 
 
 50 
 
Italy 
 
 every two or three letters I send home; my last letter 
 was dated October 1 5th. Everybody seems to hear 
 oftener from England than I do and I feel very anxious. 
 I went out yesterday by myself to visit one or two places 
 I had only seen once, going first to the Church of 
 San Lorenzo ; it was a mezza festa, a kind of holiday, 
 and a huge crimson curtain was suspended from the 
 arched roof over the altar and hmig in loose folds on 
 each side. The mixture of drapery and architecture, 
 which I often see in the Italian churches and palaces, 
 has a very beautiful effect; while the organ was play- 
 ing in bursts of harmony and the acolyte was flinging 
 about the incense, I stood in a little chapel and made 
 a sketch of the fine sarcophagus in which rest the 
 bodies of the famous Lorenzo de Medici and his brother 
 Juliano, who was assassinated by the Pazzi. I called at 
 Morghen's to see his engravings and I shall walk to 
 Fiesole before I leave Florence, if possible ; then I shall 
 have done all I wish. 
 
 My dearest Father, I have now filled my paper ; I 
 daresay you and Mamma expect more amusing letters 
 than I write, but I feel confused with the variety of 
 things I would wish to dwell upon. Adieu, all I love ; 
 I shall write to Louisa when she deigns to take notice 
 of my last two letters. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 Anna. 
 Anna Murphy to Eliza Murphy. 
 
 Rome, 
 
 December 17, 182 1. 
 My dearest Eliza, — 
 
 . . . We arrived here on Sunday the iith, and 
 Mr. R. after fluctuating and hesitating a long time, 
 
 51 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 has taken the Palazzetto Albani till the 6th of February. 
 It was his first intention to spend the Carnival at Naples 
 and I am not sorry that he has altered his plan; I 
 would rather see Naples in the spring than in winter. 
 Though we have been here so short a time, I have visited, 
 in a cursory manner, most of the principal objects and 
 some more than once. I rather think Rome will be 
 a melancholy residence to me, though it interests me 
 so very much; perhaps for that very reason. Mr. and 
 Mrs. R. detest Rome at present — but I think they will 
 like it after a while. Mrs. R. has just been introduced 
 to some of the first people here and will find the society, 
 extremely good, both foreign and English. In the 
 meantime I shall poke about these old ruins and make 
 myself quite a learned antiquarian. I have visited St. 
 Peter's three times, the Vatican twice, the Pantheon, the 
 Capitol, the Coliseum, the Forum, the pillars of Antonine 
 and Trajan, the Borghese, the Corsini, the Barberini 
 Palaces, and last of all the Pope in his pontifical splen- 
 dour in the chapel of the Quirinal Palace — a good week^s 
 work as Mr. Rowles calls it. St. Peter's is, in splendour 
 and beauty, all it has been described to be, but it does 
 not strike and please more the second time than the 
 first; it is the first coup d'oeil which fills the mind; 
 in the details it does not interest and except to hear 
 the anthem I should not be very anxious to go there 
 again. ... It is a fine theatrical scene to stand at 
 one end of the central nave and see the various groups 
 of figures, standing, kneeling, telling their beads— and 
 walking about like little mice— and the pilgrims in 
 various costumes, some of them fine savage Ruffian 
 looking wretches, kissing the shrine, or prostrate round 
 it, while the most profound silence reigns unless now 
 
 52 
 
Italy 
 
 and then the measured voice of a priest reading prayers 
 in one of the chapels just falls upon the ear. No pews, 
 skreens, or divisions break the noble effect of the archi- 
 tecture — these are unknown in Roman Catholic churches. 
 But if I go on prating of St. Peters, I shall leave myself 
 no room to mention any other object. I have not 
 seen at Rome anything which has struck me so much 
 as the splendid Museum of the Vatican ; all the chef 
 d'ceuvres of sculpture are arranged with such a mag- 
 nificent taste and such a regard to the effect of the 
 whole, that I have not words in which to describe 
 the surprise and delight I felt on my first visit, though 
 I merely walked through the galleries. The Apollo does 
 not charm me like the Venus de Medici, though it 
 strikes more. The collection at the Capitol is not large, 
 but fine and select ; the best pictures, however, are 
 in the private collections, which are numerous. On the 
 whole, Rome would furnish amusement for many months 
 — but this is not the best time of year. The weather 
 though very unlike English weather, is rather too cold 
 and damp to admit of rambling about at one's ease — 
 and the days are too short to allow of any excursion in 
 the neighbourhood. I have given up my Italian master 
 until I am more certain about money, as I wish to secure 
 the £15 due to Madame Aubert on the 27th of January. 
 Where will you spend your Christmas this year? I 
 shall think of you all and I am sure you will think of 
 me and look at my effigy and wish for me. I found 
 a letter here from Mr. Jameson, which, by reviving 
 that struggle in my heart which I thought I had sub- 
 dued, has rendered me rather unhappy; but we must 
 suffer in this world and whether we suffer from one 
 thing or another makes no difference. I wrote to him 
 
 53 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 —I do not know whether he will like my letter or 
 answer it. 
 
 I know not anything more I can say of Rome which 
 would amuse you. Our journey from Florence, which 
 we all left with regret, was through a paradise of a 
 country — you can trace our course on the map. We 
 slept the first night at Arezzo— where Petrarch was bom. 
 The next day we travelled through the Apennines and 
 by the famous Lake of Thrasymcne, where Hannibal 
 defeated the Romans, to Perugia where we slept. From 
 Perugia, through the vale of the Clitumnus, through 
 Spoleto and Foligno, to Terni where we slept. Next 
 day we visited the cataracts of Terni where a river is 
 precipitated three hundred feet. I can give you no 
 idea of this magnificent scene. That night we slept 
 at Civitk Castellana — and the next day arrived at the 
 gates of the Eternal City which we entered in the midst 
 of a heavy rain, the first day of rain we had had for 
 five weeks. The beauty of the country through which 
 we passed, exceeds all power of words to describe — a 
 succession of romantic hills, fertile valleys, classic 
 streams, cities perched like eagles' nests on the declivi- 
 ties of mountains. I have myself seen a soft white cloud 
 floating between me and a town and resting, as it were, 
 on the towers of a convent, while the whole heavens 
 around were as serenely and brightly blue as in our 
 midsummer. The olive trees were in full foliage and 
 fruit, the orange trees loaded with oranges ; the other 
 trees not more stripped than in our October. The Inns 
 were bad and we travelled with such a large party, 
 that it was difficult to procure accomodation, the beds 
 were sometimes bad, but I expected more dirt and 
 fleas ; in the latter the season was in our favour. On the 
 
 54 
 
Italy 
 
 whole, I was much delighted ; a few little privations 
 are no great punishment to me. . . . We go to-day 
 or to-morrow to the Studio of Canova, he is one of the 
 principal persons here; not to know Canova, not to 
 have been introduced to him, argues yourself unknown ; 
 the Marquis Canova, ^ he is always styled. A great 
 enthusiasm for the line arts prevails here, even the 
 lowest classes of people venerate the antiquities and 
 point out to strangers the remarkable sights or objects 
 with a sort of pride. Camillo, our lacquais de place, 
 is a great antiquarian, talks of Livy and Sallust, 
 etc., and told me the other day that he had been 
 studying Rome for thirty years. It is the same with 
 the waiting maid who, wdien we are walking, never 
 fails to point out all the beauties and monuments 
 we meet. 
 
 Your affectionate, 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Anna Murphy to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Rome, 
 
 Januaiy 19, 1822. 
 
 ... A few days ago it was the feast of St. 
 Antony, the patron of horses and cattle and it is the 
 custom in Rome for the o\vners and drivers of all horses, 
 donkeys, oxen and other beasts of burthen, to take them 
 to the Church of St. Antony to be blest by the priest. 
 To-day I saw several of these animals pass by with 
 their heads and tails fantastically decorated with knots 
 of dirty ribbon, red, blue, and yellow, and old feathers 
 and I was tempted by the ridiculous sight to walk 
 
 ^ Antonio Canova, 1 757-1822. 
 55 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 up to the Church, which is not far from us, to see what 
 was going forward. You must imagine, if you can, 
 the fagade of one of the finest Churches in the world 
 (S. Maria Maggiore) with the flight of steps leading 
 to it, a noble place (piazza) in the front with a noble 
 Corinthian column and fountain in the centre and a 
 little beyond it the Church of St. Antony, a small mean 
 building but now the great object of attraction. To- 
 day was a hohday, and I suppose not less than five or 
 six thousand people were assembled within, around and 
 before Santa Maria Maggiore, and in front of the 
 Church of Sant Antonio. Horses and carriages with 
 elegant harness, strings of donkeys, mules, were moving 
 in a line to be blest in order. Several horse guards 
 were employed in keeping a clear space. There were 
 stalls, puppet shows and a ceaseless motley ever-renewed 
 crowd of people in every kind of costume, in dresses 
 which I should in vain attempt to describe, for our 
 language has no names for the raajiy parts of which it 
 is composed. Then there were mendicant friars, smart 
 peasant girls, wearing their stays outside their gowns 
 and stitched over with knots of gay ribbons, well-dressed 
 women in the last Parisian fashion, ruffian-looking men 
 lounging about with their dark sinister faces and pic- 
 turesque cloaks hanging about them; in short I should 
 in vain attempt to enumerate all the strange sights 
 I saw, the least of which would be a nine days' wonder 
 in England, but did not so much strike me except in 
 the aggregate, having become tolerably accustomed to 
 strange sights. I made my way through this assemblage 
 to the door of St. Antony's Church, where stood a priest 
 with a basin of holy water at his side into which he 
 dipped a brush like a small hearth besom, and sprinkled 
 
 56 
 
Italy 
 
 the animals with it as they moved by, muttering a 
 benediction, in the name of St. Antony, the Father, 
 the Son and the Holy Ghost. . . . Several paid money, 
 particularly those who went in their own carriages, and 
 received in return a detestable print of St. Antony, like 
 nothing human or divine, and a little cross of blessed 
 efficacy. ... Of the multitude of novelties which meet 
 my eye every day and hour of the day, I know not what 
 to select, my dear Charlotte, to amuse you. A list of 
 old temples and monuments' certainly would not delight 
 you, for though very picturesque in reality, I am afraid 
 they would not look picturesque on paper. A iew days 
 ago I was present at a most magnificent ceremony at 
 St. Peter's. There are only four days in the year on 
 which the Pope assists, as they call it, at Mass at St. 
 Peter's. He was carried in a grand procession up the 
 central nave of the Church, on the shoulders of twenty 
 bearers, preceded and followed by. a train of Cardinals 
 and dignitaries and, as he advanced, blessing the people 
 as he moved along, all the military and spectators sank 
 on their knees. There were about four thousand people 
 present and the Church would have held with ease three 
 times, or rather ten times, the number. The music when 
 the Pope is present, is purely vocal without any accom- 
 paniment whatever and the finest voices in the world 
 are selected. The only music I have heard in Rome 
 has been sacred music, as I never go out anywhere 
 either to the theatres or into society. I have heard 
 some serenades, but at this season they are not 
 frequent. 
 
 Claude lived in a small house at the end of our 
 street and Poussin close to him. I never pass by their 
 houses without looking up at them. The Banditti are 
 
 57 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 so formidable on the road to Naples that I fear we 
 shall not go on. Mr. Rowles, who is no hero, seems 
 inclined to give up the scheme. An Austrian Colonel 
 was taken by them about a week ago and since then 
 all Rome has been in movement ; twenty thousand 
 crowns have been demanded for his ransom. The 
 Austrians, they say, will take this insult up seriously 
 and a considerable body of troops have been sent to 
 Cisterna to surround the robbers in the mountain, 
 but the event is not Tcnovvn. I believe I shall keep 
 my letter open for a few days that I may tell you more. 
 If the brigands are exterminated we shall go on to 
 Naples, but such is the incredible imbecility of the 
 Government, that little hopes can be entertained of 
 a favourable result ; the very Ministers, they say, are 
 in the pay of these robbers. 
 
 At all events, we leave Rome about the fifth of 
 February — but whether we go north or south I know 
 not. I shall grieve at leaving Rome. Everybody is 
 tired of it but me and I am still in the first fervour 
 of enthusiasm, not having exhausted half the subjects 
 of curiosity and reflection I meet at every step. 
 
 Jan. 28th. I can, at length, after some days of 
 suspense, inform you that our journey to Naples is 
 now decided on, and we shall leave Rome next Friday 
 and reach Naples on Sunday. The Austrian has been 
 liberated and the banditti have had a good fright. 
 The road is considered tolerably safe, but it is all 
 chance — they may take a fancy to us and if we are 
 seized and carried up into their mountain for a few 
 days (the worst that can happen to me, for Mr. R. will 
 I hope ransom me among the rest) it will be a very 
 romantic adventure. 
 
 58 
 
Italy 
 
 Naples, 
 
 February 13, 1822. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — 
 
 . . . Now for news and Naples — my dear 
 Mamma how I wish you were here — how you would 
 enjoy these glorious scenes, and this delicious climate. 
 I never ^elt Italy till after we passed Terracina, then we 
 began to feel the influence of the South ; the burning 
 suns, the Orange groves, the myrtle hedges, the Palm 
 trees and aloes, the blue skies and bluer seas all 
 breathe of an enchanted land, for such it is. I wish 
 for dear Papa and other dear people whom I will not 
 individualize, who would truly feel and enjoy it all and 
 help me to enjoy it more than I do. 
 
 We left Rome on the first of February ; I was very 
 sorry to quit it, it contained so much to occupy and 
 interest me. The road was well guarded by the 
 Austrian troops and we felt no alarms ; it was at 
 Terracina that we first came close to the shores of 
 the Mediterranean and it was at Terracina that the 
 land of the south opened upon us in all its glories and 
 in all the imaginary splendour of classical and romantic 
 interest. At Mola di Gaeta, where we slept the second 
 night, our Inn was close to the Ruins of Cicero's famous 
 Formian Villa, where he was murdered. It was within 
 a dozen yards of the sea which formed the most 
 beautiful bay (very like the Bay of Naples on a 
 small scale) ; to reach the shore we walked through 
 a thick grove of orange and lemon trees loaded with 
 fruit, their boughs literally bending over the sea. This 
 scene, lighted up by an Italian moon, exceeded every- 
 thing I have imagined of natural beauty ; even the 
 Bay of Naples has not so much delighted me, splendid 
 
 59 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 as it is. I think Naples, for those who are rich, idle 
 and happy, must be a charming place ; I do not like 
 it quite so much as I expected — for the inconveniences 
 and disadvantages arc precisely those which I most feel, 
 while its advantages and pleasures are almost out of 
 my reach. Here I cannot walk the streets, for though 
 you know 1 have no weak timidity and am accustomed 
 to walk the streets of London, yet I can give you no 
 idea of the streets of Naples ; to pass through them 
 in a carriage is the most amusing thing in the world, 
 but when I attempt to walk out by myself I am so 
 stunned, so astonished, so pushed, so frightened, that 
 I lose my presence of mind and am glad to run home 
 like a frightened bird. Thus I am quite dependent 
 on the carriage, not being able to afford coach hire ; 
 and the city being of immense size, all the principal 
 objects are at a great distance and as for the environs, 
 which are replete with beauty and interest, I dare not 
 venture upon them — the shoals of beggars, loungers, 
 and ruffian lazzaroni exceed all belief and all 
 description ; in short I am here a kind of prisoner, 
 which does not at all agree with me. I have no 
 doubt, however, that Mrs. R. seeing this, will generally 
 take me with her when she goes to see anything very 
 interesting, and with this I must be satisfied, the more 
 easily because I do not feel much curiosity. The 
 scenery is the charm of Naples and from my balcony, 
 which is close to the sea, I have a prospect which ought 
 to satisfy any one not absolutely unconscionable. We 
 have been to the famous Opera House of San Carlo, 
 which I do not think equal to the Scala at Milan ; it 
 is however very splendid. The Opera is not good ; 
 nothing but Rossini's music is to be heard in Italy 
 
 60 
 
Italy 
 
 anci I am tired of. it ; the ballets are beautiful. At 
 present the Carnival reigns here, but masking is only 
 allowed twice a week — Sundays and Thursdays — and 
 on those two days Naples is like a vast puppet show, 
 the people drive about pelting each other with sugar 
 plums. Our carriage, when we came home yesterday, 
 was whitened over with sugar plums and we had our- 
 selves expended five or six shillings worth ; they came 
 down upon us from the balconies sometimes like a 
 shower of hail. The whole is extremely ludicrous and 
 some of the masks are very amusing. We are to go to 
 Pompeii I believe some time or other — and (I hope) 
 to Vesuvius, but I am not sure. I have not been well 
 since I came to Naples and the children have all been 
 indisposed — particularly the youngest — yet nothing can 
 be more pure than the air or more delicious than the 
 climate. I have received a hint from Mr. R. that 
 Mrs. R. wishes to have a French governess for Laura 
 when we are at Paris ; that sounds very inconsistent 
 with all the professions Mrs. R. has always made me, 
 but, however I may feel it, I shall take it all as a 
 thing of course, and we shall part very good friends. 
 
 Before leaving Naples Anna had an opportunity 
 of ascending Vesuvius during an eruption ; she 
 wrote a vivid account of her adventures to her sister 
 Eliza. 
 
 My dearest Eliza, — 
 
 ... I can hardly imagine a more glorious 
 and wonderful spot in the world than the whole bay 
 and neighbourhood of Naples. I had an opportunity 
 of witnessing a most magnificent spectacle, an eruption 
 
 6i 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 of Mount Vesuvius and ascended the mountain during 
 the height of it, in company with Mr. Rowles and Mr. 
 Copeland. I was exposed, at one moment, to imminent 
 danger from an immense red-hot stone which came 
 bounding down the mountain, and saved myself by an 
 exertion of presence of mind, which (though I say it 
 that should not say it) was hardly to be expected from 
 a woman at such a moment. I was then within fifteen 
 yards of a stream of lava, which, glowing red-hot or 
 rather almost to a white heat, rolled along like a cascade 
 of fire. There were six distinct streams, the longest 
 reached about two miles. The explosions of fire 
 followed each other with incessant rapidity every half 
 minute ; the column of flames from the centre rose 
 to a quarter or the third of a mile high, and the 
 stones, which flew up like thousands of rockets, were 
 projected with such amazing force that they seemed 
 suspended in the air — sometimes at a height of a mile 
 and a quarter. I do not tell you this from guess or 
 hearsay. Of the terrible magnificence of the whole 
 scene, of the intense darkness of the night, I can give 
 you no idea. I have reason to rejoice that the mountain 
 was so obliging as to give us this reception during our 
 short stay. . . . From Naples to Rome we have had 
 the most resplendent weather and (excepting through 
 the Pontine Marshes) the most lovely scenery in the 
 world. 
 
 We are here for ten days or a fortnight in the 
 best hotel in Rome and in excellent quarters al- 
 together. I have managed my money matters with 
 such rigid economy that I have six guineas to receive 
 on the 26th. I had a wish to buy a coral necklace 
 at Naples, which I manfully resisted ; not that it 
 
 62 
 
Italy 
 
 required much self-denial, as I do not much care about 
 those things, but I thought you girls would have liked 
 it amongst you. The best shoes and gloves I have met 
 with are made at Naples ; the most expensive and 
 fashionable shoemaker charges five shillings a pair for 
 shoes and the best gloves are tenpence a pair ; washing 
 and all the necessaries of life are very cheap. The 
 lower classes lead a kind of animal life ; they seem 
 quite careless of the future. When hungry they labour 
 just enough to procure food for the present necessity, 
 when satisfied they lie down in the sunshine or lounge 
 about in all the luxury of indolence ; but the indolence 
 of Naples is not the solemn indolence of Rome — the 
 people, though idle, always seem to enjoy life, and 
 waste their spirits in talk and noise and merriment. 
 Rome seems dull after Naples — but I do not dislike it 
 — or rather I should hate to see old Rome turned 
 into such a Bartholomew fair and inhabited by such 
 a merry Andrew set of ragamuffins. The silence and 
 solemnity which reign here become the place. . . . 
 
 The Rowles spent Holy Week in Rome and Anna 
 writes to Camilla describing the solemn service of 
 the Miserere, which she witnessed in the Sistine 
 Chapel :— 
 
 The Sistine is the famous chapel painted by Michael 
 Angelo. I was seated opposite to the " Last Judg- 
 ment " and while they were chanting the tiresome 
 service which precedes the Miserere, I had time to 
 consider it at leisure — but all my consideration would 
 not persuade me to like it. The colouring is so 
 damaged and bad and the mind so distracted by the 
 
 63 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 multiplicity of the figures ; this is very bad taste of 
 mine, but it is the truth. During the chanting, the tapers 
 were gradually extinguished, the shade of twilight 
 closed around us and at last, after a solemn hushed 
 pause of several minutes during which not a breath 
 is heard, the Miserere begins. I had heard that people 
 fainted and fell into Hysterics etc. — I was not so power- 
 fully or so painfully affected, but such music I never 
 heard. When the finest voices in the world, blended 
 in perfect harmony, began in the softest plaintive minor 
 key, Miserere mei Deus I (Mercy O my God !), the 
 effect was indescribable. No organ is allowed in the 
 Pope's chapel and these heavenly voices, unassisted 
 by any accompaniment, seemed to fill the air around ; 
 such is the Miserere. After hearing it we walked into 
 St. Peter's, where a cross was suspended from the 
 dome lighted by two hundred lamps — notwithstanding 
 its immense size it looked small and insignificant, but 
 the effect of the strong light and deep shadows on 
 the gigantic pillars, statues and on the assembled 
 people, was excessively fine. About three or four 
 thousand persons in every variety of costume, from 
 the Prince in his stars and ribbons to the beggar in 
 rags, from the lady habited in the last Parisian fashion 
 to the peasant in her white veil and scarlet petticoat, 
 from the robed and ermined cardinal to the pilgrim 
 with his staff and cockle shell, wandered about with 
 as much ease and as much space as if they had been 
 in Hyde Park — such is the prodigious extent of this 
 glorious church. I never could have imagined so 
 extraordinary a scene as the whole presented, and 
 perhaps I was the only person of our party who 
 observed it in this light. They all fixed their eyes 
 
 64 
 
Italy 
 
 on the cross to criticize its size, without seeing the 
 strange effect it produced and we remained but a short 
 time. On coming out of the church, the moonUght 
 on the silver fountains and the colonnade in front — 
 but all this, as I write it, seems nonsense. I wish 
 you could have seen the reality. As I have never 
 failed noting down exactly and sincerely in my journal 
 the impressions of every day, I think 1 shall be able 
 to ,amuse you all, dear girls and Mamma and Papa, 
 with some of my scribbles. I have always a note- 
 book and a journal ; in the first I merely put down 
 dates and occupations of the day ; the other, which 
 is secured by lock and key contains all my remarks 
 on the characters, scenes and incidents I meet with 
 and this I never trust out of my hands to any human 
 being — no one has ever looked into it. I have filled 
 one note book and half another and have quite filled 
 two thick journals, securely locked up, and have just 
 bought a third, so 1 am not idle. I have collected 
 material which, if I live and Heaven grants me health 
 and that peace to which I have long been a stranger, 
 I will turn to good account. ... I should suppose 
 we go by Leghorn and Genoa over Mont Cenis 
 according to our present plans which, according as 
 the wind changes, may change to-morrow. How glad 
 I shall be to see you all again ! how very glad ! I 
 believe I shall be in London the latter end of June ; 
 so at least I calculate. In your letter, mention all 
 friends — Mr. Jameson and everybody. Dear Mamma 
 has not written to me once since 1 left Paris ; I 
 sigh for one of her maternal letters. I shall bring- 
 home no presents to anybody ; that I feel rather a 
 disappointment, but it cannot be helped. I wish to 
 
 65 E 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 purchase the Madonna for Mr. Jameson which he com- 
 missioned me to buy — but the finest, which I long 
 to get for him, the Dresden Madonna — is beyond my 
 reach in point of price. I shall leave Rome with great 
 regret. I have got acquainted with it as with a friend 
 and it contains so much of interest that I shall leave 
 many things unseen for want of opportunity, for I 
 cannot be so absurd as to suppose that I am abroad 
 merely to walk about where and when I like, instead 
 of performing those duties which belong to my 
 situation ; but all I could see and learn, I have seen 
 and learnt. I never read anything but Italian, not 
 having any French or English books, except Shake- 
 speare. We go to Florence by Sienna ; we shall stay 
 a week or ten days at Florence and then set off for 
 Pisa and Leghorn. God bless you my dear Cam and 
 Eliza and Louisa. Best love to dear Papa and Mamma, 
 wherever they are and to all I love and who love ine. 
 
 Your Anna. 
 
 66 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 MARRIAGE AND AFTER 
 
 •When Anna returned home she found that her 
 parents were still absent at Leeds, where Mr. 
 Murphy had gone on business connected with his 
 profession. She seems to have had much at heart 
 a project to set up a school, aided by her sisters, 
 but want of capital prevented its realization. She 
 ultimately accepted a situation as governess in the 
 family of Mr. Littleton of Teddesley Park, after- 
 wards Lord Hatherton. It is evident that she was 
 still undecided in her mind with regard to Mr. 
 Jameson ; she encouraged him indirectly, resented 
 any criticism offered by her family and yet declined 
 to give him any definite hope. She wrote the 
 following letter to her mother from London, soon 
 after her return from the Continent :— 
 
 Anna Murphy to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Saturday, June 15, 1822. 
 
 . . . Louisa is going 011 delightfully, Cam as usual, 
 and they are both dear Girls ; Eliza is the best 
 
 67 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 sister in the world. I am a great torment to her, as 
 she will tell you if she tells truth, for I am not 
 very merry or very talkative, though I intend to be 
 so very soon and acquit myself to general satisfaction. 
 . Mr. J. is very unhappy and persevering and 
 vehement, and makes me uncomfortable without mean- 
 ing or wishing to do so. I do not change without 
 cause and I cannot change again ; it is not my nature 
 or character. 
 
 Note by Eliza. 
 
 My very dear Mamma, — 
 
 Anna having persuaded me that I ought to 
 add a few lines to this as well as to finish it, I take 
 up her pen, but really on reading what she has already 
 written I find she has said all there is to be said. 
 Her spirits, 1 am sorry to say, are not what they 
 used to be, but she is resigned and thoughtful. She 
 seems satisfied with all I do for her and that will 
 keep me up till she is engaged as governess to some 
 quiet and amiable person. I wish Papa would write 
 to her ; I think one of his nice letters would do her 
 good. She has made up her mind never to see 
 Jameson again, which I believe is a sacrifice, and is 
 chiefly the cause of her present lowness. I am in 
 hopes that, in a few days, she will be better able to 
 give me an account of her travels, which as yet she 
 has very slightly mentioned. 
 
 Your afifectionate 
 
 Eliza Murphy. 
 
 This fragment of a letter was evidently written 
 
 by Mr. Murphy to his wife :— 
 
 68 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 My excellent Creature, — 
 
 I write to tell you that I have nothing to say. 
 
 A letter came from you this morning without a 
 date, so I can't tell when it was written. I am 
 a little uneasy about a ten pound Warwick note which 
 I sent you on .Wednesday last — if you have not 
 received it, let me know immediately. 
 
 What you say of Anna and Jameson, I hlad anticipated 
 and wrote to Camilla about it. I should have spoken 
 to Jameson long ago but Anna herself prevented me, 
 I am quite sure he is all honour and affection . . . 
 but why should we urge these young people to 
 marry and get into want and perplexities and 
 ill -humour? We must at all events wait until 
 Jameson speaks for himself. . . . 
 
 Anna Murphy to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 August 19, 1822. 
 . . . I owe my dear father an answer to his 
 kind but rather melancholy letter ; tell him I am 
 sanguine in my hopes of success. I have purchased 
 a good reputation in the world, am now rather well 
 known ; if I were to head an establishment with my 
 sisters, aided by them, I should perhaps succeed. 
 Papa has settled everything between Mr. Jameson and 
 myself rather too hastily — in the first place I do not 
 like to hear him called poor Jameson — in the next 
 place, we are on just the same terms. I have the 
 firm conviction that there exists a disparity between 
 our minds and characters which will render it im- 
 possible for me to be quite happy with him, and 
 yet I think that he will have me simply because I 
 
 69 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 shall not, in the long run, be able to stand out against 
 my own heart and his devoted affection, which is 
 continually excited by the obstacles and the coldness 
 which I throw in his way. There exists not a more 
 amiable, excellent being ; I hear within these two days 
 that he has been chosen by the Parish of Mary-le- 
 bone to execute some legal business for which his 
 fee will be 250 guineas, besides the advantages of 
 such a connection. 
 
 TErDESLEY Park, 
 
 August I'jth. 
 
 . . . I have sent Mr. Jameson my phiz ; by 
 the by, were you sorry to part with it? and my little 
 MS. book of Rhymes to which I added those written 
 abroad. He has sent me a beautiful etching of his 
 own performance. I hope you have seen it ; I thought 
 it was beautiful before I knew it was his. He 
 writes delightful letters and shows his character and 
 feeling in them, more than in his conversation. . . . 
 
 Tfddesley, 
 
 September 20, 1822. 
 
 Forgive me, my dearest Mother, for not having 
 written to you before ; you would if I could tell you 
 all the cross things which have prevented my writing. 
 Mr. Littleton's absences, the many letters I have had 
 to write home about business when I could again 
 procure franks and the consecration of many of my 
 short evenings to a little literary attempt made at 
 Jameson's request and which he wishes to publish in 
 the London Magazine. I have finished it, and it is 
 by this time in the hands of Barry Cornwall ; it was 
 
 70 
 
ROBERT JAMESON. 
 
 After a miniature. 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 almost all written at Rome and Florence in the foim 
 of notes and now re -written, connected and corrected. 
 I do not know what success it will have, nor do I 
 hope for much. 
 
 The year 1825 was an eventful one in the annals 
 
 of the Murphy family. In this year the third sister, 
 
 Louisa, for whom Anna had made arrangements 
 
 in Paris, and who had since obtained a situation as 
 
 governess, married an artist, Henry Bate, whose 
 
 family she had known from childhood ; in this fatal 
 
 year, Anna made an end of her hesitations and 
 
 doubts and married her constant admirer, Robert 
 
 Jameson. Never before had two people reversed 
 
 the old proverb more successfully and married at 
 
 leisure to repent in haste. 
 
 The young couple settled in lodgings in Chenies 
 
 Street, Tottenham Court Road ; an anecdote related 
 
 in Mrs. Macpherson's biography of her aunt ^ shows 
 
 in what manner Anna Jameson's married life began. 
 
 The wedding took place on Wednesday : " On the 
 
 Sunday Mr. Jameson announced his intention of 
 
 going out to the house of some friends with whom 
 
 he had been in the habit of spending Sunday before 
 
 his marriage. The young wife was struck dumb 
 
 by the proposal. ' But,' she said, ' they do not 
 
 know me ; they may not want to know me. Would 
 
 it not be better to wait until they have time at least 
 
 to show whether they care for my acquaintance ? ' 
 
 ' " Memoirs of the Life of Anna Jameson," by Gerardine 
 Macpherson. 
 
 71 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 ' That is as you please,' said the husband, ' but, in 
 any case, whether you come or not, I shall go.' 
 The bride of three or four days had to make up 
 her mind. How could she intrude herself upon 
 strangers ? But supposing, on the other hand, that 
 any friend of her own should come, any member 
 of her family, to congratulate her upon her happi- 
 ness, how could her pride bear to be found alone 
 and forsaken on the first Sunday of her married 
 life ? Accordingly, with an effort, she prepared her- 
 self and set out with him in her white gown, forlorn 
 enough, who can doubt? They had not gone far 
 when it began to rain, and taking advantage of this 
 same white gown as a pretext to escape from so 
 embarrassing a visit, she declared it impossible to 
 go farther. ' Very well,' once more said the bride- 
 groom, ' you have an umbrella ; go back by all 
 means, but I shall go on.' And so he did, and 
 though received, as his astonished hosts afterwards 
 related, with acclamations of bewilderment and con- 
 sternation, calmly ate his dinner with them and 
 spent the rest of the evening until his usual hour 
 with perfect equanimity and unconcern." 
 
 It is quite evident that this was not an isolated 
 instance of Robert Jameson's coldness of tempera- 
 ment and disregard of his wife's feelings. Anna 
 had always realized that they were unsuited to each 
 other, but she had evidently formed a high opinion 
 of his moral and mental qualities and she had 
 
 deceived herself in thinking that the true man was 
 
 72 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 shown rather in his well-expressed and expansive 
 letters than in his actual intercourse. She was not 
 long in discovering that these same letters, which 
 continued to be charming and even affectionate long 
 after they had separated, were no true index to his 
 character. Her love of art and the necessity of 
 making some effort to secure her independence and 
 to help her family, then as always in financial straits, 
 helped her through this sad time. The following 
 letter was evidently written to Louisa on her 
 wedding day :— 
 
 Anna Murphy to Louisa Bate. 
 
 Teddesley. 
 I would not, dearest Louisa, disturb the solemn 
 happiness of this day by putting you in mind of us 
 poor exiles, did I not know full well that you will think 
 of us without being reminded — that amid many feelings 
 the absence of your sisters ^ will not be unfelt and 
 that the assurance that our hearts are with you, that 
 we think of you, feel for you, that our fondest wishes, 
 prayers and love attend upon you, will add a little 
 mite to even your vast sum of happiness ; yet, after all, 
 the wedding day is not perhaps in itself the happiest 
 day of a woman's life ; whether it is to be considered 
 so or not depends on the future. May you, dear, dear 
 Louisa, ever look back to this day as the happiest of 
 your life because the commencement of an era of happi- 
 ness. May you & Henry and all who love you, have 
 reason to remember it with delight, tho' now it seem 
 
 ^ Camilla was staying at Teddesley at the time. 
 73 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 too serious for joy ; this is the prayer of your absent 
 sisters. 
 
 Adieu — God bless you dearest Louisa & make you 
 happier than I can tell. 
 
 Ever your affectionate, 
 
 Anna, 
 
 " The Diary of an Ennuyee," first published 
 anonymously as " A Lady's Diary," laid the 
 foundations of Anna's fame as a writer. Since 
 her marriage she had made this little record of 
 her travels and of her broken heart into a story, 
 which ended with the death of the heroine. 
 
 Published through the friendly offices of an 
 eccentric bookseller, an acquaintance of Mr. 
 Jameson's, the " Diary " achieved immediate suc- 
 cess. It is true that the writer only received a 
 Spanish guitar for her share of the profits, but the 
 publication brought her instant recognition and 
 opened the door to further efiforts. Disappointed 
 and embittered as she was at the outset of life, 
 Anna took up her burden bravely, and there is no 
 doubt that, in spite of her private griefs, she began 
 to enjoy her position and to appreciate the warmth 
 of her reception in literary society, both as a woman 
 and as a writer. 
 
 One of her earliest friends in the literary and 
 artistic world was Mrs. Basil Montagu, in whose 
 house she met many people, including her daughter, 
 
 the charming and accomplished wife of Bryan 
 
 74 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 Procter, better known as " Barry Cornwall." ' 
 Here, too, she met Fanny Kemble - in 1828, who 
 describes her as " sitting on a sofa in a very be- 
 coming state of plumpitude," quite unfitting for the 
 heroine of "The Diary of an Ennuyee." 
 
 In this hospitable house Anna made the acquaint- 
 ance of Edward Irving,3 who reproached his host 
 for introducing him to a living " Ennuyee," whose 
 burial in a convent garden he had just been de- 
 ploring : " Sir, I cannot forgive you," said he ; 
 "you have robbed me of my honest tears." 
 
 With the Procters Anna struck up a friendship 
 that meant very much to her in her uncomfortable 
 position. Mr. Procter became her legal adviser 
 and helped her through all her differences and diffi- 
 culties with her husband ; Mrs . Procter became 
 her firm friend and counsellor, and their daughter 
 Adelaide,4 then a baby, spoken of in the letters as 
 " Poppet," was destined to be one of the younger 
 generation whom Mrs. Jameson collected round her 
 in later years. 
 
 Mrs. Procter to Anna Jameson. 
 
 9, German Place, 
 
 Thursday, June 26, 1827. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I cannot tell you how very much obliged to 
 you I was for your letter. First, I like a letter very 
 
 ' Bryan Procter, 1 787-1874. ^ Fanny Kemble, 1809-1893. 
 3 Edward Irvine, 1792-1834. * Adelaide Procter, 1825-1864. 
 
 75 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 much, then I like Medea and, above all, I like a letter 
 from a kind friend like you. I rejoice to hear that you 
 were not disappointed and only wish that I had been 
 there also. Your account gave me a great deal of 
 pleasure and revived my recollections of her acting, 
 enough to bring the tears into my eyes. 
 
 I am getting better, which I am very glad of, for 
 nothing can make me happy away from Mr. Procter. 
 We have never been separated more than two days. I 
 have not seen him since Friday morning nor shall I 
 until Saturday evening — we have a nice house with a 
 view of the sea and I really like Brighton much better 
 than I ever did before. 
 
 Poppet is growing quite a little Ball and is happier 
 than I ever saw her. She is out the whole day and 
 she is with great difficulty brought home even for her 
 dinner " a man ! a man ! " is her " perpetual cry." 
 
 I lead a truly royal life ; we merely live to please 
 ourselves. We breakfast, walk, look at the sea, and read 
 novels until two, when we dine, walk, ditto ditto until 
 tea, and with great difficulty keep our eyes open until 
 ten o'clock, when we all go to bed. I wish I had 
 you here, you should be gloriously idle. I would 
 throw pens. Ink and paper into the sea ; we would 
 not recollect ever having heard Colburn's name and 
 when you behaved ill, as a punishment, you should 
 sing a Song to the guitar. 
 
 When do you go into Devonshire? . . . pray write 
 to me or I shall think that, like many ladies, my 
 letter has lost me my lover ; don't laugh at my vanity 
 in giving you that name, for that is really what you 
 are to me. I never had but two before ; one I married 
 and of course lost, and the other I did not love and 
 
 76 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 therefore lost. You have all the faults of one . . . 
 you spoil me, encourage my vanity, for I say really 
 if Mrs. Jameson, who first of all is very sensible, then 
 has a great deal of taste, has known so many agreeable 
 people &~. &c. &c. &c., likes me, I must be charm- 
 ing. . . . 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson. I do not think this, I 
 only think that I have more enjoyment in your society 
 than in any one else's and I am very grateful to you 
 for sparing me so much of your time. Tell me when 
 you write, what you are doing and about everything 
 that interests and pleases you. 
 
 It has been raining for four hours and the Sea is 
 magnificent. 1 never have seen anything like a storm 
 before. 
 
 Pray do not wait for a Frank 
 
 Your very affectionate 
 
 A. B. Procter. 
 how are the Beauties? 
 
 Mrs. Montagu to Anna Jameson. 
 
 August 25, 1 82 7. 
 
 My dear Friend,— 
 
 I waited two or three days after the receipt of 
 your kind letter until some event should occur worthy 
 of recording, for to tell you that I was thankful for 
 your recollection of me and pleased and interested with 
 your account of all around you, seemed a sorry return 
 for your very agreeable communication. 
 
 What then shall I say to you? that Poppet is every 
 day wiser and more delightful and that she inherits 
 all her mothers quickness of talent and something of 
 
 77 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 her quickness of temper ; that she rings the bell for 
 her maid, when her friends grow tedious, and says 
 " take away Poppet " — and when she is treated with 
 a dry biscuit demurely signifies that " Poppet will take 
 wmc too." All this is diverting enough, and done 
 with much gravity, but woe to you if you should laugh, 
 for her pride takes the alarm, and " they laugh at 
 Poppet " is always followed by a flood of tears. We 
 are left here in Londbn like some unfortunate fishes, 
 upon the shore, and appear to be all waiting till the 
 tide shall set our way. Mr. Montagu, who professes 
 to like quiet, set off this day in a steam Boat to 
 Margate to return on Monday. We, who profess to 
 like gaiety, remain in Town and hear a Hackney Coach 
 twice a day (the only sounds we do hear, for the 
 Dust-men and the Old Clothes men are at Margate 
 too), and count the houses with closed windows, as 
 they did during the plague, and calculate how long it 
 will be, vidth favourable weather, before the grass grows 
 in the streets. I detected a Gentleman's carriage last 
 night in Portland Place, but the people seemed so 
 ashamed of being found in the act, or " caught after 
 the manner " as the Lawyers, with their usual happy 
 perspicacity term it, that delicacy obliged me to look 
 another way ; in short, we are obliged to be civil 
 to each other, to enjoy the society within doors and 
 to keep ourselves awake by writing nonsense like this. 
 In all this time I have not said one word of what is 
 nearest my heart ; when you have picked up the feathers 
 and straws that float on the surface, dip deeper and 
 find the under current of my true feeling for you; 
 for your kind opinion of me you have my best courtesy, 
 for that is a mere matter of taste, for your reposing, 
 
 78 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 confiding love and friendship, you have my best 
 affections and constant anxious wishes. I do not say 
 "dear Mrs. Jameson" or "Sweet woman" or 
 " talented creature " or any of those glib sentences 
 which slide so easily off the tongue that one shrewdly 
 suspects they are only to be found where deep waters 
 take their course silently, while the inch-deep brook 
 babbles to every passer-by and talks loudest when it 
 has a hard and rocky bosom. You gave me a charming 
 portrait of your Mary Ashworth, for so I think your 
 fair relation is called, and to-day you have sent us a 
 lovely Landscape which forms a delightful background 
 to your figures ; there should have been only one, for 
 so lovely a Claude, but you put a swing between the 
 Elms and made a Watteau of it at once. 
 
 Your sincere affectionate friend 
 
 D. B. Montagu. 
 
 The Jamesons appear to have lived together until 
 the year 1829, when he obtained an appointment 
 as puisne judge in the island of Dominica. Soon 
 after her husband's departure, Anna and her father 
 accompanied Sir Gerard Noel and his daughter on 
 a tour abroad. Mr. Murphy had suffered a great 
 loss in the death of Princess Charlotte,' and in the 
 refusal of Prince Leopold 2 to buy the copies of the 
 *' Beauties " on which he had been so long engaged. 
 They were eventually bought by Sir Gerard Noel, 
 and Mr. Murphy then made an effort to utilize 
 
 ' Princess Charlotte died in 181 7. 
 
 ^ Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg (afterwards King of the 
 Belgians), 1 790-1865. 
 
 79 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 his work by having the paintings engraved and 
 pubHshed in a book, the letterpress of which was 
 written by his daughter. " The Beauties of the 
 Court of King Charles II " had a literary and 
 artistic success, but brought no pecuniary gain. 
 
 Anna tells us, in her " Visits and Sketches at 
 Home and Abroad," ^ with what feelings she 
 watched the shores of her native country recede for 
 the second time in her life : " I thought, not without 
 gratitude, of the contrast between present feelings 
 and those of a former journey. To abandon oneself 
 to the quickening influence of new objects, without 
 care or thought of to-morrow ; with a mind awake 
 in all its strength, with natural health and cheer- 
 fulness, with sensibility tamed, not dead ; possess- 
 ing one's soul in quiet, not sinking or shrinking 
 from excitement ; not self -engrossed nor yet pining 
 for sympathy ; was not this much ? " " We travelled 
 a la MUor Anglais,'' she says later on ; "a partle 
 carree \ a barouche hung on the most approved 
 principles, double-cushioned, luxurious, rising and 
 sinking on its springs like a swan on the wave ; 
 the pockets stuffed with new publications, maps 
 and guides ad infinitum ; English servants for com- 
 fort, foreign servants for use ; a chessboard, 
 backgammon tables — in short, surrounded with all 
 that could render us entirely independent of the 
 amusements we had come to seek and the people 
 we had come to visit." 
 
 ' Published 1834. 
 80 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 Anna Jameson to her mother and sisters. 
 
 Brussels, 
 
 August 9, 1829. 
 
 Dear good People,— 
 
 This letter being intended for the public benefit, 
 as I have not time to address you individually, I desire 
 that (like a bill in Parliament) it may be read in a 
 Committee of the whole house, with the exception only 
 of those who choose to be excepted. We have reached 
 this place, one of our chosen stations on the journey, 
 and I am quite delighted with what I have seen of 
 it and pleased with all my travelling companions, but 
 most of all with Sir Gerard, who is really very amiable 
 and very interesting — and Harriet Jane and I get on 
 capitally together. She is a good little creature, with 
 some of her father's caprices, much of his talent and 
 more of his real benevolence. As to Papa, he is in 
 excellent spirits and desires me to tell you that he 
 behaves very well. He goes wandering about and 
 admiring everything he sees and he has bought a pair 
 of spectacles for ten pence which are the best in the 
 world and a pair for Mama and a lantern for Edward 
 to send up at his kite's tail, with other invaluable things, 
 too many to commemorate, and I think I never saw 
 him so happy or look better. I cannot say the same 
 for myself. I was the greatest sufferer during our 
 sea-voyage ; others were more violently ill, but I 
 fainted away continually and being laid on the deck 
 and exposed to the air (which alone kept life in me) 
 my face was blistered all over and, besides the general 
 derangement of the whole system, I caught a feverish 
 cold and have been ill ever since ; I am still very poorly 
 
 81 F 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 —I hate it and am inclined to repine, particularly as 
 they are all going to a pleasant party to-night, 
 and I cannot stir. . . . We left Ghent yesterday morn- 
 ing and reached Brussels about 3 and had the 
 felicity of changing all our garments and making 
 ourselves comfortable ; we all turned out to dinner 
 like Snakes which had cast their skins. Papa and 
 Sir Gerard sat to their wine and Backgammon and 
 we went to a Cafe in the Park and eat ices and drank 
 coffee. I was so ill I was fairly done for and had 
 just strength to get into bed and got no sleep when I 
 was there ; to-day I remained at home when they all 
 dispersed different ways and then ordered myself a little 
 open carriage (the hackney coaches are Barouches) 
 and drove out quietly thro' the principal streets, 
 squares and promenades and then went into the park 
 to hear the royal Band play the most delightful music 
 out of all my favourite operas. The park, by the by, 
 is not at all like an English Park ; it is more like 
 Kensington Gardens, but not so extensive. There was 
 a crowd of elegant people, all in their best, (being 
 Sunday) seated in groups or walking in a circle round 
 the Pavilion in which the band was stationed. The 
 dresses were superb, the sun shone bright and the 
 whole scene was inexpressibly gay. My bedroom 
 window overlooks these gardens, so you may imagine 
 how well we are situated — our Hotel (La Belle Vue) 
 is in fact a Palace. . . . God bless you all — how I 
 wished for you this morning I Do not omit to write ; 
 whether you have anything to say or not, it would be 
 a comfort to hear from you 
 
 Ever your affecte. 
 
 Anna. 
 82 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 Anna returned to the house of her sister, Mrs. 
 Bate, after this short trip abroad and resumed her 
 usual hfe. 
 
 Robert Jameson's letters from Dominica show 
 that he was the same clever, cynical being that he 
 had shown himself to be in former years, with the 
 old trick of expressing on paper an affection that 
 he seemed quite without in actual intercourse. 
 
 Robert Jameson to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Dominica, 
 
 November 6, 1831. 
 
 My dearest Anna,— 
 
 Thank you for all the solicitude you express 
 about me. My situation has indeed long been as un- 
 comfortable as unprofitable, and such appears to be 
 the state of aff"airs at home that my long cherished 
 hopes of amendment have almost subsided. I am 
 startled at the thought of your coming here as at 
 something suicidal, though your society would make 
 even this place happy to me, though the only object of 
 my coming out here was that I might hereafter live 
 in comfort with you. I dare not think of such a thing. 
 I must return to England, or get a better appointment. 
 Had I even a thousand pounds in my possession, I 
 should be tempted to quit this country ; anything rather 
 than this wearisome banishment. For a short time, 
 however, I must wait and see what are the intentions 
 of Government ; either place or compensation in 
 England, I fear, is almost unattainable, however small. 
 Your domestic intelligence is upon the whole conso- 
 latory. 
 
 83 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 I think I did acknowledge the receipt of the Box 
 of books— They arrived I think on the very day I was 
 writing to you— 15th January. The Wordsworth is still 
 upon my table in all its pristine purity— for no one 
 except myself has ever opened its leaves ; other readers 
 who have seen it are satisfied with the perusal of the 
 label, but the two novels are literally nearly worn out 
 having been read by every person in the town who 
 directly or indirectly could borrow them. The "Manners 
 of the day" clever though it be in many parts is one of 
 those artificial ephemeral things which excite little sym- 
 pathy in me, but the " Collegians," which I have read 
 several times, is one of the most powerful and masterly 
 things I have for a long time met with. I would 
 rather have written the scenes on the Lake of Killamey 
 — in house of Barnaby Lugan, the cottage of Phil 
 Naughten and Cudle Clinte, than all the trash of Mr. 
 Bulwer and not a few of the later novels of Sir Walter 
 Scott. Was it in contempt of the flimsy affectation 
 of the Almacks family of novels, that the author enlisted 
 such doric names as Cregan and Clinte and Kyrle 
 Daly? Besides these and " The Inheritance " (which 
 I read three times a month) I have read scarcely 
 anything unprofessional except Shakespeare and a few 
 of those good stock books which every young gentle- 
 man is expected to have read when at school and which 
 nobody even looks into afterwards. I have also been 
 re-reading your own two books of late oftener than I 
 can tell and with more admiration than ever ; I have 
 still the greater affection for your Diary, for there I 
 am ever with you : in the company of its more brilliant 
 successor I have not the same sympathy or companion- 
 ship—except indeed with Dante during his occasional 
 
 84 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 visits to Hell — which I have no doubt very much 
 resembles Dominica morally and physically. We have 
 for the last three weeks had a rapid succession of 
 young Earthquakes and the ground is still very 
 tremulous, but no mischief has been done. Then the 
 springs of boiling sulphur, which are very numerous 
 here, have been vomiting forth their Stygian blasts 
 to such a degree as to be hardly endurable ; everything 
 of Silver is kept as black as coal. Still, I should not 
 object to the brimstone nor to the Earthquakes,^ nor 
 to many other small nuisances, if the place were peopled 
 by Christians. The moral atmosphere of this Colony 
 continues much the same, or rather thickens towards 
 a perfect state of brutality. Whether the Governor's 
 arrival will make any difference is questionable. I 
 do not think there is good enough in the country to 
 save it. To live in such a spot without being worn, 
 either in body or mind, is quite impossible ; that both 
 are impaired is the most probable. 
 
 I hope this will reach you at Teddesley — and that 
 you will be enjoying the delicious frost and snow of 
 England. After three years roasting I apply the epithet 
 seriously. Do not think me querrulous and discon- 
 tented. I have borne much very goodtemperedly 
 hitherto, but it cannot be wondered at that I am not 
 satisfied to go on thus, year after year, separated from 
 you and all who are dear to me, a sot, contented to 
 live and die among those whose most refined pleasures 
 are eating Turtle and drinking punch and Madeira. 
 ... I hope you will write frequently and tell me all 
 the news you can, either family or political. If a 
 letter be a matter of interest to you in London, sur- 
 rounded by your family and friends, what must it be 
 
 85 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 to me in my solitude here? I will write every packet. 
 Remember me in the kindest manner to all at home. 
 I would ask a thousand questions about others, but it 
 is sickening to think of the months that must elapse 
 before they could be answered. I shall therefore rely 
 upon your telling me what you know will be a matter 
 of interest. Would to Heaven that before such answer 
 could arrive, I might be on my way to England ! The 
 most tempestuous passage across the Atlantic would 
 in itself be delightful, if it led to such a conclusion ; in 
 short, I am as sick for home as of the West Indies. 
 Have you heard anything of Alma of late? I should 
 like much to hear that he was prosperous. You have 
 never told me whether your miraculous Baby be a 
 gentleman or a lady, so that of course I am in your 
 countryman's awkward predicament of not knowing 
 whether I am an uncle or an aunt. 
 
 The gun has fired a summons for the letters to be 
 taken on board, so lest mine should lose its passage, 
 I must conclude. 
 
 Being ever your most affectionate, 
 
 R.S.J. 
 
 While Robert Jameson was lamenting his fate in 
 Dominica, Anna was becoming much more recon- 
 ciled to life in London. She was incessantly active 
 and had published " Loves of the Poets " in 1829 
 and "Celebrated Female Sovereigns" in 1831; 
 she had written the letterpress to the unfortunate 
 " Beauties " in the same year, and a letter from 
 
 Cecilia Siddons, in August 1831, alludes to an 
 
 86 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 article that she wrote after the death of her cele- 
 brated mother. 
 
 Cecilia Siddons to Anna Jameson. 
 
 23, Windsor Street, Edinburgh, 
 
 August 22, 183 1. 
 
 Dear Madam, — 
 
 It cannot, I think, be unacceptable to you, to 
 
 learn the gratification you have given me, by your Article 
 
 in the new Monthly Magazine relating to my most 
 
 beloved Mother,' which I have only seen within the 
 
 last three weeks, and I have withheld my thanks only 
 
 till I knew your address. It would be saying very little 
 
 to tell you how far it is superior to any thing telse that 
 
 has yet been said on the subject, for almost all besides, 
 
 have had rather a tendency to wound, than to soothe, 
 
 feelings that must be deep and tender in proportion 
 
 as their object was intimately known ! but I trust 
 
 I say what will please you more, in regretting that 
 
 you were not better known to her, since one who 
 
 could judge her so well, must, if known, have been 
 
 appreciated by her, 
 
 I make no apologies for bringing myself to your 
 
 notice, but remain, Dear Madam, 
 
 Yours very gratefully and sincerely, 
 
 Cecilia Siddons. 
 
 Another acquaintance made about this time was 
 
 ' Mrs. Siddons (Sarah Kemble), 1755-1S31. 
 87 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 the accomplished Geraldine Jewsbury, who encloses 
 a poem in one of her letters :— 
 
 Maria Jane Jewsbury i to Anna Jameson. 
 
 6, Poland Street, Marlborough Street, 
 
 Friday Noon. 
 (Postmark 1830) 
 
 Dear Madam, — 
 
 Had I not heard from my friend Mrsj. J. C. 
 Hall, that you had done me the honour to mention me 
 with much kindness, I know not whether I should have 
 ventured, as I do now venture, to request your 
 acceptance of the accompanying volume, recently 
 published, but which may not have reached your hands. 
 I have another reason for so doing ; immediately after 
 finishing the first story, I met with a sentence in the 
 preface to " Loves of the Poets," which gave me the 
 painful yet gratifying conviction, that on one subject, 
 (that of female authorship) we agreed in opinion. I 
 exceedingly wish for an opportunity of discovering in 
 conversation that we agree on others. I have also 
 one or two compliments to communicate, that con- 
 sidering the source, I cannot but think it would gratify 
 you to know have been paid to your writings. I say 
 this on the supposition that you venerate Wordsworth's 
 poetry ; for myself, I have long since forgotten the 
 poet in the friend. I wish I dare hint, that I am 
 stationary here till next Thursday or Friday, and that 
 I should be rnost happy to receive, or make any call, 
 that would facilitate a pleasure alluded to in the earlier 
 part of this note. I have the greatest possible respect 
 for etiquette, and the least possible liking, when it 
 
 ' Maria Jane Jewsbury, author of several books and some verse ; 
 elder sister of Geraldine Endsor Jewsbury, 181 2- 1880. 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 interferes with the attainment of a favourite object ; 
 but lest I should swell the note of a stranger to the 
 letter of a troublesome acquaintance, permit me to 
 remain with much admiration of your accomplished 
 mind, 
 
 M. J. JEWSBURY. 
 
 6, Poland Street, Thursday. 
 
 June 1 8, 1830. 
 
 My dear Madam, — 
 
 As I find it will not be in my power to take 
 the chance of finding you at home to-morrow, and 
 as I really think that two visits in one week are 
 trespasses sufiicient, I send the songs I should have 
 brought, requesting that you will not be in any haste 
 to return them. Indeed the longer you do me the 
 favour to keep them, the surer I shall feel of the 
 prospect of renewing our acquaintance, and I speak 
 but the English truth, when I say this will give me 
 unfeigned pleasure. As you expressed a desire to know 
 my opinion of Mrs. Shelley, ' I will take the present 
 opportunity of saying, that I rarely, if ever, met with 
 a woman to whom I felt so disposed to apply the 
 epithet " bewitching." I can of course merely speak 
 of appearances, but she struck me in the light of a 
 matured child ; a union of buoyancy and depth ; a 
 something that brought to my remembrance Shelley's 
 description of Beatrice in his preface to the Cenci. To 
 those she loves her manners would be caressing ; to 
 a stranger they are kind and playful, less from a 
 desire to please, than from a habit of amicable feeling. 
 Her hilarity, contrasted with the almost sadly profound 
 
 ' Mary WoUstoncroft Godwin, second wife of the poet, 1 797-1 85 1 . 
 
 89 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 nature of some of her remarks, somewhat puzzled me. 
 It is not the hilarity assumed by worn minds in society, 
 — it is simple — natural— and like Spring full of sweet- 
 ness, but I doubt her being a happy woman, and I also 
 doubt her being one that could be distinctly termed 
 melancholy. Looking over the best part of the 
 writings of her father, mother, and husband, she is 
 the kind of woman for them to love and describe. 
 She reminded me of no person I ever saw, but she 
 has made me wish the arrival of the time when I am 
 to see her again. She is not one to sit with and 
 think ill of, even on authority. 
 
 I hope I have not wearied you — if 1 am fortunate 
 enough to give you five minutes pleasure I shall feel 
 gratified — because 
 
 I remain dear Madam 
 
 Your's with much interest 
 
 M. J. JEWSBURY. 
 
 THE WORLD'S MAS.QUE. 
 
 I am not old, not very old. 
 
 My hair perchance is grey. 
 But there's a spirit in my heart 
 
 That keeps old age away, — 
 'Tis love — that like an angel guards 
 
 Life's fountain from decay. 
 
 I look upon my fellow men. 
 To me they are a book, 
 ' And oft my fancy rightly spells 
 
 Their thoughts by word and look, — 
 Ay — many a proud and weary wight 
 kWho searching ill would brook. 
 90 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 For this I seek the haunts of mirth. 
 And those that mirth haunts least, 
 
 None fear me — for they deem me one 
 With whom life's love hath ceased ; 
 
 They slip their visors — and I see • 
 The spectre at the feast ! 
 
 When others praise the lute and song, 
 
 The singer and his shell, 
 I gaze upon each listener's face 
 
 That can deep histories tell. 
 Seeking the one for whom alas, 
 
 The singer sang too well ! 
 
 I follow in the track of fame, 
 
 The path her crowned ones tread, 
 
 Others behold their glittering eyes. 
 But I their brows instead, — 
 
 And the momentary look that asks 
 For rest — if with the dead. 
 
 And when I see a placid face 
 That speaks the heart asleep, 
 
 While others on its beauty dwell, 
 I — turn aside and weep. 
 
 For all that, ere a year be past. 
 May there plough furrows deep. 
 
 The man, the man of quip and jest. 
 Whose heart hath long been dry, 
 
 A fountain whence no water flows 
 But weeds instead wave high, — - 
 
 Others may hear his courtly wit, 
 I — but his smothered sigh i 
 91 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 O fellow men ! how often grief 
 
 Is on me for your sakes, 
 And yet I would not love you less, 
 
 For the sorrow that love wakes 
 Makes my soul prayerful for you all, 
 
 And happy while it aches ! 
 
 M. J. JEWSBURY. 
 
 The " Characteristics of Women " ' was very well 
 received. The title was not of the happiest, and 
 Fanny Kemble, to whom it was dedicated, appears 
 to have suggested a better one, showing that it 
 was the characters of Shakespeares women that 
 were delineated ; for some reason Anna kept to 
 her first choice. 
 
 From time to time Anna still received affection- 
 ate letters from the exile, whose whimsical humour 
 must often have amused her in spite of herself. 
 
 Robert Jameson to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Dominica, 
 
 January 5, 1832. 
 
 My dearest Anna, — 
 
 So strangely have the winds trifled with us that 
 the two last packets have arrived so long after their 
 time that one had been several weeks abandoned as 
 lost and the non -arrival of the other become a matter 
 of wonder. They came at last and your two last 
 letters (20th Oct. and 15th Nov.) have arrived almost 
 
 ' Published 1832. 
 92 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 at the same time. I have nearly been deprived of 
 the power of acknowledging them by this mail — ^which 
 will be here this evening — for the night before last 
 I was seized with a slight fever and lay twenty -four 
 hours rolling on my bed, sympathizing most feelingly 
 with Kehama and the other red-hot gentlemen who 
 are said to support the throne of Siva. The fiend has 
 left me, but weak, muddle-headed and as full of acute 
 pains as if I were the very genius of Gout. Luckily 
 I refused to have any medical attendant, or I might, 
 instead of being quite well to-morrow, have been 
 confined three weeks to come in recovering from their 
 remedies. Your letters are painfully interesting, but, 
 even in the pleasantest parts, not calculated to 
 tranquillize, but, on the contrary, to stir up a tumult 
 of hopes and wishes which 1 can hardly write of at 
 this moment with proper coherence. I expect daily 
 to hear matter of importance from England by the 
 hands of our Governor, who has been, like the packets, 
 kept back by contrary winds. The Government have 
 promised, in the strongest terms, in consequence of 
 things that have taken place here, that we shall 
 immediately undergo a thorough change and I have 
 reason to expect that I shall not be overlooked. At 
 any rate, I will not be long separated from you, but 
 I think it will be in England that we shall first meet 
 again. I do not look with much complacency to any 
 appointment in the West Indies. It is a dismal, vulgar, 
 sensual, utterly unintellectual place to spend the best 
 years of one's life in. There are no retiring pensions 
 attached to these high sounding offices, as there are 
 in the splendid East ; and by the time a man can save 
 enough to buy him an annuity of £25, for the remaining 
 
 93 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 seven years of his miserable life, he is a poor old 
 yellow unserviceable thing that has left its liver behind 
 it. . . . Farewell, for the present, my dearest Anna 
 and believe me ever entirely your affectionate, 
 
 R. Jameson. 
 
 My dearest Anna, — 
 
 The delay in the arrival of the Mail Boat gives 
 me an opportunity of adding a P.S. ; and, in conse- 
 quence of what has taken place since last night, it 
 will be in all probability detained here some hours 
 when it does arrive. I Avas awakened out of a capital 
 sleep this morning by the intelligence that the Governor 
 was within a few miles of the shore. Things were 
 arranged with so much propriety that, just in the most 
 burning part of the day, he landed. ,We conducted 
 him to Government House, where two or three hours 
 were spent in a manner most agreeable to a man 
 in delicate health and wearied with a long voyage ; 
 that is in reading his Commission and swearing him 
 in to his office. Of course I have seen nothing yet of 
 either him or Miss MacGregor, but his appearance is 
 extremely interesting and I cannot but augur well from 
 his manner. He is very like a pale Charles Kemble, 
 but seems to be sadly cut to pieces in war, writes 
 with his left hand etc. I am to meet him at dinner) 
 an hour from this time. I suspect, poor man, he 
 would rather spend the evening in a cool, quiet room 
 with his daughter. . . . 
 
 In 1833, Mr. Jameson returned from Dominica 
 in quest of a better appointment, which he soon 
 
 94 
 
Marriage and After 
 
 obtained through his wife's influence. He was only 
 a few months in England before leaving for Canada 
 to take up his new appointment as puisne judge in 
 the province of Toronto. Soon after his departure, 
 Anna set out for Germany. 
 
 95 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 GERMANY 
 
 Anna had visited Germany in 1829, when she and 
 her father had been the guests of Sir Gerard Noel ; 
 she had, ever since that date, longed to return to a 
 country with which she felt herself much in sym- 
 pathy. Italy was still the land of her dreams, but 
 Germany was the land where the intellectual life 
 was the most alive ; moreover she had inexhaustible 
 treasure to study in the galleries, and she probably 
 realized that she would find many a subject for her 
 pen in the manners and customs of modern Ger- 
 many. We have only to refer to Carlyle's Preface 
 to the first edition of his translation of " Wilhelm 
 Meister " to realize how little was known of German 
 art and literature in this country ; in the interven- 
 ing nine years — he wrote it in 1824 — he had done 
 much to throw light on the subject, but it was still 
 far from popular. 
 
 Anna found the Germans extremely cordial. 
 The men, she says, seemed to her more original than 
 her own countrymen and the women more homely 
 than their English sisters. Their habits were more 
 
 96 
 
Germany 
 
 domestic, sometimes disagreeably so, as when a 
 grosse wdsche prevented her from seeing a con- 
 scientious friend. The men were too careless in 
 their dress to please her, a circumstance which she 
 put down to the universal habit of frequenting 
 " taverns " ; otherwise she has nothing but praise 
 for her new acquaintances. 
 
 She might well have been flattered at the recep- 
 tion she received. Madame de Stael, whom she 
 adored and to whom in her heart of hearts she 
 at times likened herself, was treated as a negligible 
 writer whose celebrated work " L'Allemagne " was 
 already out of date, but her own works were known 
 and appreciated and a German edition of the 
 " Characteristics of Women " was just about to be 
 issued at Leipzig. 
 
 Besides the advantage of her literary reputation, 
 Anna brought with her many letters of introduction, 
 notably some from Mr. Robert Noel and his 
 German wife, by means of which she made 
 acquaintance with many interesting people. 
 
 The following letter is from her sister Charlotte, 
 who accompanied her to Germany, returning to 
 England alone after a short stay in the Fatherland. 
 
 Charlotte Murphy to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Weimar, 
 
 June 27, 1833. 
 
 Dear Mamma, Papa, and Eliza,— 
 
 VVe arrived here on Sunday evening from 
 Gotha; I did not intend to write again so soon but 
 
 97 G 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Nina has changed her plan. We do not stay here 
 longer than to-morrow, when we set off for the Rhine. 
 The reception here has been quite delightful; Nina 
 has been received with open arms. Madame von Goethe, 
 in particular, she is much charmed with ; she is the 
 daughter-in-law of the poet, a most lively and delight- 
 ful person, so very delightful that she is the cause of 
 our departure. We accompany her to Bonn, where it 
 is Nina's present intention to stay for some time. You 
 will be pleased, as well as very much surprised, when 
 I tell you that the first news that we learnt at Weimar 
 was that a German translation of the " Characteristics 
 of Women " will appear soon; it is published at Leip- 
 zig; unfortunately from the first edition. . . . We 
 have, as yet, travelled mostly with English people, many 
 of whom came over in the packet from London with us ; 
 we had delightful people who now make themselves 
 agreable until I leave for England ; and it is probable 
 that some of them may go as far as Rotterdam with 
 me. We are to be at Bonn under the care of a 
 Madame Schopenhauer,' a writer of German romances. 
 I forgot to tell you that we have not seen Mr. Noel 
 but he is spoken of in the highest terms by everybody. 
 At the Table d'Hote, which I have found very pleasant, 
 Nina and I amuse ourselves head-ifying "a la 
 Burlowe " 2 ; I feel such constant excitement that I 
 find it quite impossible to fix my attention to write to 
 you. I have so many things to say I know not where 
 to begin. My head feels quite confused with the con- 
 stant variety of places and persons I have seen during 
 the last journeys. . . . 
 
 I am most affectionately yours, 
 
 Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 ' Johanna Schopenhauer, 1 766-1838. 
 * Henry Burlowe (or Behnes), sculptor, died 1837. 
 98 
 
Germany 
 
 Anna Jameson to her sisters. 
 
 Weimar, 
 
 June 27, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Louisa and Camilla,— 
 
 . . . My reception here has been very cordial, 
 
 my name is well known, for the English editions of 
 
 some of my books are sold at Leipzig and a German 
 
 edition of the last is annoimced; fortunately, I have 
 
 just arrived in time to have some alterations made and 
 
 to send the translator a copy of the last Edition. 
 
 Madame von Goethe is a charming little woman full of 
 
 talent and vivacity and I have accepted her invitation 
 
 to accompany her to Frankfurt and the Rhine for 
 
 several reasons, partly to improve my acquaintance 
 
 with her and partly to be introduced, under her auspices, 
 
 to the best society at Frankfurt and Bonn, which is of 
 
 great consequence to me; she has interested herself 
 
 in all my plans and has contrived to interest me 
 
 particularly. She knows every distinguished person in 
 
 Germany, France and England. . . . We are most 
 
 anxious for letters ; how do you go on amid foreign 
 
 and domestic broils? How is dear sweet Baby? How 
 
 does the bust go on? Apropos — you must thank Harry 
 
 Burlowe for my reception here, for I owe it in great 
 
 part to his friend Noel. Pray tell him so ; Mr. Noel is 
 
 very much respected. . . . 
 
 Farewell and once more God bless you. 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Carlyle had called Saxony the Attica of Ger- 
 many and Weimar its Athens ; although the greatest 
 
 99 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 names had passed away, there was still much literary 
 activity and the memory of the giants of the in- 
 tellect was over all. Anna met here Madame von 
 Helvig, the friend of Schiller, and Madame de 
 Wolzogen, his sister-in-law and biographer ; with 
 Ottilie von Goethe,' the widowed daughter-in-law 
 of the great poet, who still lived in his house with 
 her two sons, she struck up a lasting friendship. 
 With her she wandered over the now historic house, 
 visiting the room where Goethe had worked, linger- 
 ing beside the old chair in which he died, and finding 
 a " melancholy propriety " in the bas-relief that 
 hung over the door leading to his apartments, on 
 which was represented the empty throne of Jupiter 
 with an eagle cowering at its foot amongst spent 
 thunderbolts . 
 
 Ottilie von Goethe was a v^ery remarkable char- 
 acter. She had managed to live in Goethe's house 
 for fifteen years, in constant intercourse with his 
 master mind, without, in any way, sacrificing her 
 own individuality. She was a child of nature, ego- 
 tistic, erratic, bright, with a deeper side to her 
 character which only added to her charm. In 
 earlier days, she used to preside over the poet's 
 tea-table, where she entertained Thackeray among 
 other English people, and her new friend found her 
 
 ' Baroness Ottilie von Pogwisch married August von Goethe, 
 who died in 1830. Her two sons were Walther Wolfgang, b. 18 18, 
 composer of operettas and songs, and Wolfgang, b. 1820, jurist 
 and poet. 
 
 IOC 
 
Germany 
 
 conversation " the most untiring thing I have ever 
 
 enjoyed." Ottilie used to read Plutarch's Lives 
 
 aloud to her father-in-law, and he delighted in her 
 
 companionship ; but it is evident that she lived her 
 
 own life, indolent, self-centred, careless even to 
 
 the extent of leaving the great man to wrestle with 
 
 domestic difficulties unaided by feminine tact. She 
 
 had a real regard for Goethe, however, which she 
 
 proved by nursing him through his last illness, when 
 
 she sat by him, hour after hour, with his hands in 
 
 her own ; she was one of those who heard his last 
 
 cry " Light, more light ! " and it was she who 
 
 placed her finger on her lips to signify that he slept, 
 
 when the poet had sunk in death. Anna tells us 
 
 that she afterwards refused a " splendid " offer from 
 
 a publisher to write an account of his private life. 
 
 " He told the world all he chose the world to know," 
 
 she said, " and if not, is it for me— for me/— to fill 
 
 up the vacancy by telling what, perhaps, he never 
 
 meant to be told— what I owed to his boundless 
 
 love and confidence? That were too horrible!" 
 
 Through Ottilie, Anna made acquaintance with 
 
 Adele Schopenhauer ' and Sybille Mertens Schaff- 
 
 hausen, her two most intimate friends. It speaks 
 
 much for her capacity for making herself loved that 
 
 she became, in a very short time, the trusted friend 
 
 of all three . Adele Schopenhauer was the daughter 
 
 of the novelist, a lively old lady who refused to live 
 
 with her son Arthur, because his pessimistic theories 
 
 ' Adele Schopenhauer, 1 793-1849. 
 lOI 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 kept her awake at night ; mother and daughter were 
 now Hving at Bonn, where their house had become 
 a Hterary centre, much as it had been during their 
 residence at Weimar. Adele was the author of 
 several novels, but her chief talent lay in the art of 
 the silhouettist.' In her novel " Anna " she is sup- 
 posed to have portrayed herself, Ottilie, and some 
 other of her friends. 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Parents. 
 
 Bonn, 
 
 July 30, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Father and very dear kind Mother,— 
 
 ... I left Frankfurt with much regret on the 
 
 19th ; it is an expensive place and I could not afford to 
 
 stay longer, so I broke through all its fascinations, left 
 
 my dear little friend Madame de Goethe and came here 
 
 to be very quiet and studious for three weeks. I have 
 
 an excellent German and work sometimes four or six 
 
 hours a day ; till I have mastered my German Grammar, 
 
 I could do nothing and I am determined not to be 
 
 repelled or diverted from my German studies. I take 
 
 all the fine, or rather the affectionate, compliments of 
 
 my dear Father as they are meant; to be touched with 
 
 them and to believe them sincere, is not to believe 
 
 them true. I am not Madame de Stael, but would be 
 
 well content witli half her greatness. I will confess, 
 
 however, that though I have often dreamt of fame and 
 
 sighed for it, I never knew before what it really is ; its 
 
 advantages and its disadvantages. It is gratifying to 
 
 find that I am no stranger in this foreign country, 
 
 * A number of these have been reproduced recently, edited by 
 Kroeber. 
 
 102 
 

German 
 
 y 
 
 that my name and the opmions and sentiments I advo- 
 cate are well known even to those who have not read 
 my little books ; everywhere I find friends and people 
 anxious to talk to me and to inform me on subjects 
 of art and literature and to know in return what I think 
 of them and their country etc., and all this is very 
 pleasant. At a party given by Madame Mertens, one 
 of the principal people here, (at her country house 
 which is just opposite to the glorious Drachenfels) I 
 met the celebrated Schlegel,' who was brought up to 
 be introduced to me; when Mrs. Trollope ^ was here 
 he avoided seeing her and the Germans generally seem 
 quite afraid of her, as of a woman who is come, as they 
 express it, to make a book — but I see with pleasure 
 that there is a kindly feeling toward me which I should 
 be a wretch to abuse. My principal friend here is 
 Mdlle. Schopenhauer; you must ask Charlotte about 
 her, and about every thing else ; she will tell you more 
 in half an hour than I could put into a volume. 
 
 We have just returned from spending a pleasant day 
 at Petersdorf, the country house of the Mertens. There 
 was the beautiful little hill of the Gottsberg, crowned 
 with its ruins, and opposite the Drachenfels and the 
 Rhine, like a beautiful lake spread out between them 
 and bounding the garden and vineyards in which we 
 walked. . . . 
 
 It will give you some idea of the simplicity of manners 
 yet prevailing here, when I tell you that the other night 
 I supped en famille with Madame Mertens, who has one 
 of the most beautiful houses here, 2 carriages, servants 
 in proportion, etc., and her two eldest daughters laid the 
 cloth, handed the wine etc. . . . 
 
 ' August von Schlegel, 1 767-1845. 
 ^ Frances TroUope, novelist, 1 780-1863. 
 103 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Frankfurt, 
 
 September 5, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Father,— 
 
 I have the opportunity of sending a letter free; 
 I hope it will reach you safely and soon. I found at 
 Manheim a letter from Canada; as usual, very well 
 written, very cold and very vague. I do not think he 
 is disappointed in his office; he has seen the Almas 
 who are flourishing, he has stood godfather to Emily's 
 youngest son. His books and papers have been ship- 
 wreck 'd, which is a real misfortune and no small ex- 
 pense; he has not seen the falls of Niagara; there 
 is a party against him, but the popular opinion is for 
 him, being considered a Whig official. No Solicitor 
 General is yet appointed, so that a double weight of 
 duty falls upon him and he was just going the circuit 
 (of more than 1,000 miles); he says he will write to 
 Henry Bate, when he knows more about the settlers — 
 this is an Epitome of his letter. 
 
 NoAv of myself — a few words; when I left dear 
 Charlotte I returned to Bonn, but the voyage was 
 horridly fatiguing and disastrous — we struck on a sand 
 bank in the middle of the night and were eight hours 
 in jeopardy — I mean the vessel — for it was the danger 
 of shipwreck without the possibility of being drown'd. 
 It was ten o'clock on Saturday night before I reached 
 Bonn. I foimd my friends in great alarm about me 
 and Madame Mertens, whose lively imagination pic- 
 tured me as dying of the Cholera in some Dutch village, 
 was on the point of sending off expresses to Dusseldorf, 
 Nimeguen and Rotterdam, to enquire my fate. I re- 
 mained at Bonn (with her) for some days longer than 
 I intended. ... I became more intimate with Schlegel 
 who was very amiable and entertaining and the attention 
 
 104 
 
Germany 
 
 and friendship of Madame Schopenhauer and Madame 
 Mertens seemed to increase daily, so that I could with 
 difficulty get away at last. ... I had been four or 
 five days at Manheim and was going to start for Munich 
 when I received a letter from Madame de Goethe which 
 brought me here. She has been extremely ill; I am 
 now staying with her. Tell Charlotte I found two 
 letters from Madame de Goethe at Bonn, and she is 
 the same amusing, affectionate Little frisk that we found 
 her; she has been obliged to nurse me here for I have 
 been much indisposed ever since my arrival and have 
 not yet seen either the Johnstones or Madame Koch. 
 My purpose is to return to Manheim as soon as I can 
 get away, Monday at farthest, and thence I shall be 
 off to Stuttgart and Munich as soon as possible. 
 Madame de Goethe prefers me to spend the winter 
 with her at Weimar, but I have not accepted the invi- 
 tation, though I believe I shall return thither before 
 my return to England. I regret very much that I 
 did not see Lady Morgan ' and Mrs. Trollope who 
 have both been here during my absence. I have read 
 Lady Morgan's last book with pleasure. It has amused 
 me very much while I have been ill here. The Germans 
 are rather afraid of Mrs. Trollope, whom Madame de 
 G. describes as vulgar in manner and appearance. "If 
 you write your travels in Germany " said Schlegel to 
 me at parting, " speak . . . whatever you may think." 
 Could I do otherwise than think well and speak well of 
 the Germans? I should be most ungrateful, for I meet 
 friends everywhere and if my mind were quite at ease 
 about home I should be really very happy; not a day 
 passes in which I do not learn something new. 
 
 ^ Lady Morgan, daughter of a strolling player, author of " The 
 Wild Irish Girl," etc., 1 783-1859. 
 
 105 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 On board the steam boat coming up the Rhine, I met 
 a benevolent looking old gentleman to whom I paid 
 some disinterested attention, though I thought him a 
 little prosy and something of a bore — and see how my 
 virtue was rewarded ! it turned out to be Mr. J. who 
 wrote a learned book about the production and con- 
 sumption of the precious metals, who is an M.P. and 
 is now travelling on some mission from Government. 
 We became such good friends that he gave me a note 
 of introduction to Munich — to one of the most dis- 
 tinguished men there — Dr.Martius. I shall take with me 
 ten or twelve letters altogether, so that I expect to pass 
 my time very pleasantly. At Stuttgart I shall go to see 
 old Dannecker ' and I take a letter to the Ambassa- 
 dress Lady Disbrowe. I assure you, dear Papa, that 
 it is much more amusing to travel as I do, than as we 
 did with Sir Gerard Noel; though I must think of 
 his kindness with gratitude and pleasure. I write in 
 such a hurry to send my letter to the bag to-night, 
 that I have omitted much I have to tell you, but wait 
 a while, you will see what pleasant evenings we shall 
 have, and what materials I shall bring for eternal 
 talk. . . . ' 
 
 Your affectionate child who loves you, 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Schlegel became very amiable before I left Bonn, 
 and they tell me it was a complete conquest — pity I 
 am married ! for certainly his stars and his ribbons are 
 very becoming — and as for his wig, I think he only 
 wears one in imitation of his Jupiter; in short, he 
 
 ' Johann Heinrich von Dannecker, 1758-1841. 
 106 
 
Germany 
 
 talked of Madame de Stael and Bernadotte and Sanscrit 
 till I fancied him quite captivating. . . . 
 
 Ottilie's description of Lady Morgan and of her 
 French address is amusing : — " Ach mein Gott ! if she 
 would have said to me ' Cushlainachree ' I would have 
 embraced her 1 " Walther is much improved and desires 
 his compliments to Miss Charlotte. I believe he will 
 go to Heidelberg with me, and then he and his mother 
 return to Weimar to keep Wolf's birthday. . . . 
 
 D. B. Murphy, Esq., 
 9, Bruton Street, 
 
 Berkeley Square, 
 
 London. 
 
 At Stuttgart Anna visited the sculptor Dannecker 
 in his studio, and was grieved to find how aged and 
 altered he was, since she had first seen him three 
 years ago. At that time, he had been engaged on 
 the tomb of the Queen of Wurtemburg, and he had 
 said musingly : " I grow old ; I have carved the 
 effigies of three generations of poets and as many 
 of princes " ; now he seemed sunk into a state of 
 coma, except when he roused himself to talk a little 
 about Schiller. 
 
 Anna Jameson to D. B. Murphy. 
 
 Munich, 
 
 October 15, 1833. 
 
 My dearest Father,— 
 
 Munich is the most beautiful city I ever saw 
 except Florence, but I have suffered so much here that 
 
 107 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 I shall leave it without regret. Dr. Martius tells me 
 that almost all foreigners do, more or less ; the cold is 
 so intense, at times, and the air so oppressive, that I long 
 to fly across the Alps. In three days I could be at Milan, 
 ill four at Venice ; the very idea of sunning myself 
 under an Italian sky, though only for a few hours, is 
 a great temptation, but all my plans and pursuits carry 
 me to the North and I shall set off for Dresden in a 
 few days, where I am told that I shall be fetee, that 
 is, welcomed like a princess. You can follow me on 
 the map from Munich to Salzburg — to Linz — to Prague 
 — to Dresden. 
 
 In " Visits and Sketches " Anna has much to say 
 of Dresden. " Tieck ' is the literary colossus of 
 Dresden," she v^rites ; " perhaps I should say of 
 Germany." Besides making acquaintance with the 
 famous critic who annotated his copy of her 
 " Characteristics of Women," a book that she after- 
 wards tried to buy when his library was sold, she 
 struck up a friendship with the artist Retzsch,2 
 whose outline illustrations to the works of Shake- 
 speare and Goethe she admired so much that she 
 afterwards assisted him to have them reproduced 
 in England. " I consider my introduction to 
 Moritz Retzsch as one of the most memorable 
 and agreeable incidents of my short sojourn at 
 Dresden." 
 
 In spite of new scenes and new faces, she was 
 much taken up with Ottilie's love afTairs which 
 
 ' Johann Ludvig Tieck, 17 73-1 85 3. 
 ^ Moritz Retzsch, 17 79-185 7. 
 108 
 
Germany 
 
 began to give her grave concern. The tongue 
 of scandal was busy with her name and she gave 
 it only too good a cause, her haisons being appar- 
 ently an open secret. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Ottilie von Goethe. 
 
 Dresden, 
 
 November ()th. 
 
 " Your letter dearest Ottilie which I found here on 
 my arrival, has given me that mixture of pleasure and 
 pain which you seem born to bestow on all who love 
 you, in every form and in every degree. . . . 
 
 "As to N. . . . I certainly shall not meddle with 
 his intentions or his sentiments in any way — and be 
 assured that I shall tell him nothing about le Capitaine. 
 If that penchant is happily past, let it be buried in 
 that churchyard among the others and for Heaven's 
 sake dig the grave deep enough. I will come and help 
 to sing its requiem, or I feel inclined to turn it into a 
 Jubilate — forgive me ! . . . 
 
 And blessings on Mr. Hayward, sent I am sure by 
 an especial providence, to make a diversion in favour 
 of reason and common sense ! When I see him in 
 England I shall certainly feel inclined to embrace him. 
 And Monsieur le Capitaine has his conge? Really? 
 tout de bon? ... I love you dear Ottilie for that 
 abandon, and would almost add that inconsequence 
 where yourself are concerned; I respect and esteem 
 in you that delicacy towards your friends which I do 
 not often meet in others. My own nature is so reserved, 
 that discretion is in me scarce a virtue, for my mind 
 and heart— though always full, too full — seldom over- 
 
 109 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 flow, but were I to place confidence in anyone I would 
 trust in you. Thank you for writing in English; if 
 you sometimes fail in grammar, you never fail in grace 
 and colloquial propriety of expression. . . . 
 
 Torment your lovers as you will — torment yourself, 
 if you must — but spare your friends. ..." 
 
 no 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 OTTILIE VON GOETHE 
 
 Anna returned from Germany sooner than she had 
 intended, owing to her father's sudden illness. 
 During her stay in England she lived in her parents' 
 house in St. John's Wood, and seems to have been 
 busily occupied. Notwithstanding her father's ill- 
 ness and the extra responsibility which then fell 
 on her to provide money for the home, she went a 
 great deal into society. " For myself," she wrote 
 to Mr. Noel, " I am leading that most abominable 
 life— a life of laborious dissipation. I have suffered 
 myself to be entangled in the machinery of society 
 and am whirled round as if I were bound upon the 
 wheel of a steam engine. But it shall not last ! 
 Shall I whisper something to you? I indulge a 
 hope of visiting Germany in the spring." 
 
 "Visits and Sketches" came out in 1834, and 
 Anna was also busy arranging for the publication 
 of Retzsch's outline drawings in England ; this year 
 was also memorable as the one in which her friend- 
 ship for Lady Byron ' began, a friendship that was 
 to prove one of the most epoch-making in her life. 
 
 ' Lady Byron (Augusta Milbanke), 1 792-1860. 
 Ill 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 The autumn found her in Berhn, whence she 
 writes an amusing letter, giving a description of 
 her visit to the Grand Ducal Court at Weimar. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Louisa Bate. 
 
 Berlin, 
 
 September 15, 1834. 
 
 ... I have a long letter from Eliza, who cer- 
 tainly has, par la grace de Diea, the talent of writing 
 most admirable letters. Her account of home is, on the 
 whole, satisfactory, but I fear those dear girls will 
 have a hard struggle thro' the winter; they must keep 
 up their spirits and all, 1 am sure, will in the end be 
 well. It would go much against my conscience if, 
 while they were toiling at home, I was indulging in 
 extravagances abroad, but so far from it, my expenses 
 are much less than when in England. For instance, 
 I am here at Berlin, a great City and one of the most 
 expensive places in Germany; I am in one of the most 
 beautiful streets, bearing the same relation to the best 
 part of the town as Bruton Street in London. I pay 14 
 shillings a week (4 Thalers ^) for my lodging (a bed- 
 room and a sitting-room including attendance) 4 gros. 
 (or 6d.) every morning for my breakfast of coffee, 
 cream and cakes, and i8d. for my dinner, including a 
 glass of wine; my principal expenses consist in sight 
 seeing, fees, and now and then coach hire; but alto- 
 gether I do not spend more than £2 a week. When 
 travelling of course that is more, but upon an average 
 I spend less than in London. . . . Well, now to talk 
 of myself, for Charlotte is very curious to hear of my 
 proceedings at Weimar, as she knows the place and 
 
 112 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 people and perhaps it will amuse you all. I am not 
 afraid of playing the egotist when I write to dear 
 Home. You must know that when the Grand Duchess ' 
 returned from Carlsbad, she sent me an invitation to 
 appear at Court. I did not ask to be presented, nor 
 much wish it. I was afraid I should have been 
 nervous ; not from mauvaise honte but because there 
 was considerable curiosity excited on my account and 
 several persons present who were fond of me and 
 anxious I should please. Before I set off, Ottilie (who 
 was keeping her bed from indisposition) examined my 
 dress, approved and dismissed me with her last instruc- 
 tions : "Now Aima, remember that she is Imperial 
 Highness and talk, talk, TALK ! ! do some credit to 
 your own celebrity or I shall scold you ' fiirchterlich ' " 
 (terribly). Madame de Pogwisch went with me and 
 Countess Henkel von Donnestomarch, as Grand Mistress, 
 presented me and, as I am a great pet of hers, it seemed 
 to be with peculiar pleasure. When we were assembled 
 in the saloon of the Palace — there were few persons, for 
 it was not a Court day — I was the only person presented 
 except an English gentleman. There were present the 
 Countess Fritsch, first lady of Honour, the Maids of 
 honour, the Grand Chamberlain, the Mareschal de 
 Cam, the Grand lawyer or Master of Horse and Baron 
 von Linher — I forget who else; when we had waited 
 about ID minutes, the Grand Duchess entered and 
 Countess Henkel immediately led me up to her and 
 introduced me. Then began the usual royal common 
 places as how I liked Germany? hoped Weimar would 
 be agreeable to me, that she would have the pleasure 
 of seeing me often and so forth; then some questions 
 
 ' The Grand Duchess of Saxe-Weimar Eisenach. 
 
 113 H 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 about England and my journey; all the conversation 
 was of course in French. I said I understood her 
 Imperial Highness spoke and understood English 
 perfectly, but she said she would not venture to speak 
 English with me; she is rather deaf and speaks very 
 quick and inarticulately, so that I was under much 
 disadvantage. However it seems I made a favourable 
 impression; I was kept to dinner — the Grand Duchess 
 seated me next herself and I did not find that this 
 propinquity to an Imperial Highness took away my 
 appetite, for I was extremely hungry. After dinner we 
 returned to the Saloon first, the Chamberlain and 
 Mareschal de Cour leading the way, then her Imperial 
 Highness, alone, then we all followed. After some 
 conversation, the Grand Duchess curtsied to us and 
 retired and we all went home. I was told afterwards 
 that my French was particularly approved of; this 
 was on Friday the 29th, I think. On Sunday I was 
 asked to an evening party to meet the Duke of Cam- 
 bridge; on Tuesday to dinner; being ill I was unable 
 to go and I wrote to the Countess Henkel afterwards 
 to express my regret and say I was to leave Weimar 
 on Saturday. The Grand Duchess sent me a dinner 
 invitation for Friday, which I accepted. I should tell 
 you that my note was shewn to her Highness and she 
 insisted on keeping it; it was in French. On bidding 
 me adieu she kindly urged my return and said she 
 regretted I should not see her children (ses enfants) at 
 Berlin — alluding to her Daughters, one of whom is the 
 wife of Prince William and the other of Prince Charles 
 of Prussia. So ended my court Honours, but I should 
 tell you that this Grand Duchess is really a distinguished 
 and admirable woman, active, benevolent, and extremely 
 
 114 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 accomplished; she must have been, in her youth, very 
 nearly handsome, if not quite so. She is more like her 
 Mother, the late Empress of Russia, than any of her 
 other children. 
 
 I came to Berlin for the sake of seeing" the annual 
 exhibition of pictures, but am unable to make any stay, 
 as I have promised Ottilie to go to Vienna with her and 
 we are to set off from Weimar the 25th. I am working 
 away here to get thro as much as possible, for fear 
 some accident should prevent my return, and I am so 
 dead tired I can scarce write this — so you must excuse 
 all faults and omissions. 
 
 Farewell dearest and God bless you. Kiss darling 
 for me. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 tJBER Rotterdam. 
 Vienna, 
 
 December 31, 1834. 
 
 A letter from you my dear sweet Mamma is indeed a 
 favour ! with what delight and gratitude I read it is 
 not to be expressed. I do not know what may be in the 
 Edinburgh Review, but what is all the fame and all the 
 praise in the world, or that the world could give, com- 
 pared to the first few lines of your dear affectionate 
 letter ! All day I carried it in the bosom of my gown 
 and I would not have exchanged the sensations with 
 which it warmed my heart, to be Madame de Stael 
 herself in all her glory. Thank you for all the news 
 you send me, you mention everyone who is interest- 
 ing to me. I thought of you all on Christmas Day 
 and joined the pleasant circle round dear Frank's and 
 
 115 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Camilla's hospitable table. Madame de Goethe and 
 I took compassion on a few agreeable English who 
 are here and gave them an English Christmas dinner, 
 as well as we could manage it. We had excellent 
 Ragout-soup, Carp from the Danube (baked) a turkey- 
 roasted (not bigger than the wing of a Norfolk turkey) 
 with sausages — but sausages without Saur Kraut being 
 a thing inconceivable to a German cook, the Saur 
 Kraut came up accordingly. Then we had an excellent 
 tongue, and a capital dish of mixed fruits en compote, 
 but alas ! no plumb pudding ! Xmas day is not the 
 great day in Germany, but the evening before, when it 
 is the custom to exchange sentiments and presents, 
 and this to an extent you can scarce imagine. The 
 presents which Madame de Goethe had prepared for 
 her children, family, servants on that evening cost her 
 at least 150 or 200 florins. The custom is to display 
 these gifts on an illuminated table, with a fir-tree 
 planted in the middle, to which are suspended abundance 
 of wax lights, sugar plums and little toys and trinkets. 
 Noel, who was at Prince Metternichs that night, says 
 that the presents etc. which covered the table were 
 worth at least 10,000 florins. Madame de Goethe gave 
 me a beautiful head of her father in law, engraved on 
 a fine cornelian, which had been done from life and 
 a gift from him to herself. This of course pleased me 
 exceedingly. After leaving her safe in bed (for she 
 is a miserable invalid at present) I went to hear the 
 midnight Mass at St. Stephens, which is perhaps the 
 finest Gothic church in the world ; it was illuminated 
 with thousands of wax lights, crowded with thousands 
 of people and the Christmas morning was ushered in 
 with a peal of grand music from a full orchestra, the 
 
 116 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 great organ swelling above all the rest and rolling 
 through the aisles like thunder — all the people cross- 
 ing themselves and falling on their knees. A pretty 
 considerable degree of love making goes on upon these 
 occasions, as 1 have been told ; but I cannot speak from 
 experience. I stood by the tomb of Prince Eugene 
 and watched the scene with great interest. 
 
 I have not, however, enjoyed my stay at Vienna, nor 
 am I likely to do so. Ottilie is obliged to return 
 to Weimar the ist of February. 
 
 Vienna, 
 
 February 2, 1835. 
 
 My dearest Mother and dearest Father and 
 dear good people all ! 
 I have been meditating a letter to you for these 
 three weeks, but my plans were so uncertain that I 
 deferred writing to you from day to day till I could 
 speak of the future ; all I can now say is, that I 
 have no intention of leaving Vienna during this month, 
 but about the 4th or 5th of March we commence our 
 journey northwards. At present we find that it is 
 utterly impossible and I confess I do not feel any wish 
 to leave Vienna yet. The weather has been horribly 
 severe and I caught cold going suddenly out of the 
 heated rooms into the air ; so that during this last 
 fortnight I have kept my room almost constantly. I 
 have been out only twice. I am making here many 
 interesting acquaintances and you will perhaps be 
 amused to hear that my most intimate friend is a 
 sovereign Princess — the Princess of Hohenzollern, who 
 was a princess of Courland ; another of my most inti- 
 mate friends is Madame d'Arnetti, once a celebrated 
 
 117 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 actress of Vienna, now a happy wife and mother ; a 
 woman of excellent reputation and full of talent. 
 Another of my friends is Caroline von Pichler/ one 
 of the best of the German female writers and a dear 
 good old woman ; her mother was chamber -woman to 
 Maria Theresa, and a friend of Metastasio, so that I am 
 in the very midst of all I want — only I am in despair 
 that I have not the Memoirs of Maria Theresa with 
 me, that I might make some additions and alterations. 
 
 ... I feel like a sponge, drinking in all around 
 me ; the worst is, the want of money, or rather the 
 want of money enough — a very general complaint. I 
 have just enough to live and go into society and visit 
 the Galleries ; enough for my daily expenses but 
 nothing beyond and this is very hard, when I am sur- 
 rounded with many things which I may never again 
 be able to obtain — for instance, only to mention one 
 thing, the beautiful Bohemian Linen. I long so to 
 bring some to Mamma — very fine at a florin an ell — a 
 florin is (here) two shillings. It is quite certain that 
 in the midst of my travels and all the amusement 
 and excitement 1 enjoy, I learn self-denial and many 
 hard lessons besides . 
 
 I was present the other day at a very striking scene 
 — the marriage of an EngUshman with a young lady 
 of Vienna, the Countess Julie Szechenyi. There were 
 present about 50 persons of the first Austrian and 
 Hungarian families. I was with the Princess Hohen- 
 zollern and the Countess Zichy ; the Bridegroom was 
 Mr. Parry, one of the sons of that Mrs. Parry whom 
 I liked so much in England. Another curious scene 
 was a Bal-masque at the Court and another of a 
 
 ' Caroline von Pichler, 1769-1843. 
 118 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 different sort was a Ball of the Bourgeousie, which I 
 must say appeared to me both the merriest and the 
 most desirous of the two. I have not lately visited 
 any of the Galleries in consequence of the extreme 
 severity of the weather, but at the Bourg-Theatre (which 
 is the Court Theatre of Vienna) I had a great treat the 
 other night — the representation of one of the famous 
 German Tragedies, Schiller's Don Carlos, given in a 
 style of which we have no idea in England ; the people 
 were dissatisfied because one character was not well 
 played ! On the whole Vienna pleases me. One thing 
 which renders it most striking to a foreigner, is that 
 it has remained stationary, while all things have moved 
 around it ; the people go on just as in the reign of 
 Maria Theresa and they are apparently a very contented, 
 good-natured set of people as you can imagine. The 
 old Emperor is exceedingly beloved. Every night that 
 I go to the Bourg 1 see him and the Empress and some 
 part of their family in their box and, turn which way I 
 will in the streets, I see nothing but Placards announcing 
 that a Ball will be given in such and such a place, 
 or some similar amusement and besides Sunday which 
 is here a real holiday, there are at least five or six 
 other Holidays in a month when all shops are shut, 
 all business suspended, all theatres open and nothing 
 thought of but amusement. The Government is strict 
 beyond conception and there are no disorders, no open 
 violations of decorum ; though I am told and believe 
 that this is the most dissipated capital in Europe. . . . 
 At the same time the degree of depravation at London 
 and Paris, is here quite unknown. 
 
 Now God bless you my dear dear Father, Mother and 
 sisters. I am always the same, your affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 119 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to D. Brownell Murphy. 
 
 My dearest Father,— 
 
 I have just heard from Strangways that a 
 cornice will probably leave Vienna to-night or to- 
 morrow, so I seize the welcome opportunity to scribble 
 you a few lines. I am glad you have been amused by 
 anything in my letters ; I wish I could send you some 
 more amusement, but at present my life is so quiet. 
 Vienna is empty and I am working so hard, that no 
 amusement comes to seek me and I have no time to 
 go and seek amusement. I had, however, what Frank 
 would call a bit of a lark yesterday. I went with a 
 party, not indeed very fine or elegant or titled, but 
 very goodnatured, to try the ascent of the Leopolds- 
 berg — my greatest undertaking since my illness. You 
 must know that the Leopoldsberg is a high precipitous 
 hill, or rather a little mountain (as we should think 
 it, being perhaps four or five times as elevated as 
 Highgate) which is to the North west of Vienna ; it 
 is celebrated in the history of the country, being the 
 ancient stronghold and seat of the old Margraves of 
 Austria, God knows how long ago. We drove in 
 carriages to the foot of the hill and then ascended on 
 Donkeys ; as we ascended, the most glorious view 
 broke upon us, sometimes seen through breaks between 
 the hills, sometimes lost and then opened again in 
 another direction, varying at every moment. When 
 we had reached the highest point, the whole splendid 
 Panorama was before or rather around us ; the 
 Danube dividing into numerous branches loses here 
 much of its size and grandeur, but forming hundreds 
 of Islands of every possible size and form, it assumes 
 
 1 20 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 a singular and characteristic appearance. To the North 
 we had Moravia and then the last of the Carpathian 
 hills running eastward to the castle of Presburg in 
 Hungary ; the Monatberg and Town of Kloster- 
 Neuburg, washed by the Danube ; t;o the South East 
 the Great City with its vast suburbs and the spire of 
 St. Stephens piercing the heavens— ^then beyond, the 
 Danube uniting its divided waters and rolling through 
 the field of battle of Asperne and lost in the plains of 
 Hungary, and to the south, the Styrian and Corinthian 
 Mountains, the Schneeberg, snow topped, bounding the 
 landscape. It was altogether a splendid scene, splendid 
 in itself and splendid to the imagination, and I wished 
 for you and thought of you, my dear Father, for you 
 would have enjoyed it ; to add to the effects, there was 
 a thunderstorm gathering on one side, while the moon 
 was reigning on the other, but pale as if afraid of 
 being swallowed up in the wild sulphurous clouds which 
 were gathering round her and in truth we returned 
 home in the midst of the most vivid lightning and most 
 tumultuous hurricane I can remember. You know I 
 am not afraid of lightning and never was, but last 
 evening it seemed to run along every nerve, brought 
 on a slight relapse of those spasms which are now 
 my horror and made me faint away. To-day I am 
 better, but not allowed to stir from my Sopha (I would 
 get out of bed to write to you) so that I am painfully 
 warned of the necessity of Prudence until I am 
 stronger. I remain here, in my little lodging, to write 
 quietly and as soon as I have my MS in some order, 
 I will set off for Weimar, and thence to England. 
 
 The Countess Thun has been here with all her family 
 — I am sure you remember Franz Thun whom I brought 
 
 121 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 one day to see you? he has two brothers almost as 
 amiable as himself and two sisters of whom I do not 
 know much as yet ; but with the lady mother I am 
 charmed, she seems so full of heart and kindness. They 
 hav^e been to me full of attentions and while the young 
 men were here they came out to me almost every 
 day. I am asked to spend part of the Summer at their 
 old Castle of Setchen— you will find the spot between 
 Prague and Dresden— and as it is not far out of my way 
 to Weimar I intend to go there at least for a few 
 days ; it is an aspect of German life I had not yet 
 seen and, if it were otherwise without interest, I like 
 them all so much that the idea gives me pleasure. 
 Pray my dear Father, can you form the most distant 
 guess at the reasons of Jameson's conduct? it is near 
 three months since the date of his last letter ! 
 
 I hurry to a conclusion because I wish to write to 
 Mr. Stephens, the under Colonial Secretary. So fare- 
 well my dear Father and all that home circle who live 
 in my heart. 
 
 Anna.. 
 
 I have received dear Camilla's letter — if possible I 
 will answer it by this packet and if not I will find 
 some other opportunity. Countess Fuchs has just 
 arrived from Bohemia and wants to take me to Ischel 
 with her ; it will cost me nothing and I feel much 
 tempted — it is the very Bath to which my doctor ordered 
 me and everyone says it will do me good. You 
 will find Ischel on the map to the east of Salzburg. 
 How does this burning weather agree with dear 
 Mamma? I fancy her panting in her garden, looking 
 like one of her own roses. How have the holidays 
 
 122 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 gone off? have Eliza and Charlotte had any amuse- 
 ment? and have you not been happy to see more of 
 them? I can get no English books. Fanny Kemble's 
 journal I have not read — I am anxious to see why every 
 one is so angry. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Traunkirchen 
 {A little village on the Gmunden-See), 
 
 August 17, 1835. 
 
 This little villainous sketch, done by candle-light, is 
 an attempt to give you an idea of the spot in which 
 I write now, this 17th of August, your Birthday my 
 dearest Mamma and dear good Sister Eliza I a day, 
 which I shall ever and every where keep holy — God 
 bless you both ! I know very well you will think of 
 me to-day and you will feel that my heart is with you 
 as indeed it is, but that you may understand something 
 of my movements I must tell you some of my history. 
 I was ordered to the mountains for a few weeks to do 
 nothing but keep quiet, and take cold baths ; so I 
 came to Gmundan on the Gmunden See. If you look 
 on the map of Germany for Vienna you must imagine 
 me travelling from Vienna to Linz ; at Linz I took a 
 little carriage with one horse which brought me to 
 Gmunden, just 42 miles to the south of Linz, at the head 
 of a beautiful lake. I found that an English gentle- 
 man I knew at Vienna was at Traunkirchen, a little 
 wild picturesque village on the west shore of the lake, 
 about 6 miles farther. I took a boat to pay them (that 
 is Banfield and his wife) a visit ; I found near them 
 a little deserted cottage, which I got furnished from a 
 
 123 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 little Inn and hither 1 came bag and baggage. I have 
 two nice little rooms, a good bed, a little garden with 
 a summer house, and attendance from the Inn, all for 
 30 Kreutzer or about 13 pence a day ; my eating and 
 drinking cost perhaps as much more, so that I am 
 really living in a kind of earthly paradise for half a 
 crown a day, all expenses included, except boating, 
 in which I am rather extravagant. Just behind my 
 cottage, which is on the very edge of the Lake, there 
 is a little nook where I plunge every morning and 
 frighten the fishes ; I then take a little walk among 
 the rocks and try to sketch now and then. I have 
 made some scratches which are not so very bad and 
 will serve to give dear Papa an idea of the sort of 
 scenery about me. The lake is about 9 miles in 
 length and about 2 miles in breadth, but the mountains 
 around are on such an enormous scale that the lake 
 looks sometimes as if one could throw a stone across 
 it. The water is cle,ar as chrystal ; it is subject, 
 like the other mountain lakes, to sudden storms and 
 then it looks magnificent. I rowed across the lake 
 yesterday, with the Banfields, to visit a waterfall on 
 the opposite side ; just as we had re-embarked we 
 saw one of these tremendous storms rolling down the 
 valley (which you see behind the village in the back- 
 ground) while the lightning seemed to dart from cliff 
 to cliff and glided along the surface of the lake — 
 we ran our boat in a hurry under a rock and ran up to 
 a miller's cottage where we found shelter. In another 
 moment the waves were white with foam, the wind 
 rushed over the lake as if driven by some tremendous 
 power, the thunder echoed from mountain to mountjain 
 and the lightning falling on the summit of a mountain 
 
 124 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 opposite, the Sonnenberg, set fire to the pines which 
 smoked for some hours afterwards— it was altogether a 
 splendid scene. The fury of the storm was soon over, 
 but as the rain continued, we amused ourselves with the 
 miller and his wife — rummaged all their little cottage, 
 made them sing for us and had, in short, a good deal 
 of amusement. The people, though primitive, are not 
 rude, nor very poor, not sordidly so ; everywhere the 
 cottages are clean and neat, but the women, spoiled 
 by hard work, are prematurely old and their dress 
 hideous . 
 
 I have often mentioned to you in my letters the 
 Countess Zichy as one of my kindest friends — she is 
 at Ischl which is nearly 20 miles from this ; on hear- 
 ing of my intended arrival, she wrote to Banfield (who 
 had been her English master) to desire he would see 
 I wanted nothing and wanted to know my plans about 
 going to Ischl. I wrote to her to thank her, but 
 declined going to Ischl (which is the Cheltenham of 
 Vienna). I feared being drawn into some expense 
 but I said that I would meet her at the other end of 
 the lake on the road to Ischl. The day after 
 she received my note, she set off at 7 in the morn- 
 ing and, with her Sister-in-law Countess Frangoise 
 Szechenyi, came over here to see me. I had bathed 
 in the lake and was sitting among the rocks in my 
 dressing gown, never dreaming of such visitors, when 
 Banfield came scrambling up to me. I had the key 
 of my cottage so they could not get in and he had 
 stationed them in my little summer house, with some 
 fruit and bread before them, till I came. Down I ran 
 and I shall never forget the countenance of the good 
 Zichy, as she stood on the steps of the summer house, 
 
 125 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 with her arms extended and her countenance quite 
 radiant with pleasure, affection and every kindly feel- 
 ing. Then began' caresses and reproaches about stay- 
 ing here alone and so forth. They were so amused by 
 my little cottage and all my arrangements and make- 
 shifts, that to fine ladies in search of a new sensation 
 it must have been " une benediction." I have promised 
 to go once to Ischl on my way to Salzburg, spend 
 two days with them and be taken about to see the 
 magnificent lakes in the neighbourhood and I go on 
 Wednesday or Thursday. I cannot say I have yet 
 gained much strength with all my boating, bathing 
 and scrambling, but it will come, for my spirits are 
 better — only I cannot eat yet ; bread and milk and 
 a little fruit are the only things I taste with appetite. 
 I began my letter in the morning ; when I went out 
 I found my new friends, the Banfields, had prepared 
 a little fete for me in honour of Mamma's birthday. 
 A boat was ready, the awning hung round with large 
 garlands of flowers mingled with boughs of the moun- 
 tain ash ; another boat followed filled with the women 
 of the village in their holiday dresses, who sang in 
 chorus the national songs such as you have heard the 
 Tyrolese sing in London, but sounding very different 
 when heard in the open air, among the rocks and 
 mountains and accompanied by the dash of the oars ; 
 it was really delicious and made me almost shed tears 
 thinking of you all and feeling so alone on such a day. 
 Thus we paraded in a sort of triumph to Ebensee, about 
 4 miles off, and there set off to visit a romantic lake 
 among the mountains. I have no room to add more 
 than another " God bless you all, amen ! " Direct to 
 Weimar. I hope Henry has received my last letter 
 
 126 
 
Ottilie von Goethe 
 
 enclosing one for Jameson. Let me have a long letter 
 giving me an account of the 17 th and how you spent 
 it and how dear Papa is and Louisa and all ! 
 
 Anna had been two years in Germany when 
 Robert Jameson wrote asking her to join him, as 
 soon as possible, in Canada. The summons, so 
 long expected, filled her with despair. Her life 
 in Germany had been extremely happy ; she had 
 been made so much of that she frequently declared 
 her head was turned. In Weimar, where she went 
 after leaving Traunkirchen, she was the guest of 
 Ottilie, who treated her like a " pet sister " ; and 
 here, amongst other distinguished people, she 
 met Alexander von Humboldt. The thought of 
 exchanging foreign travels and the congenial 
 society of London for existence in the unknown 
 wilds of a strange country, appalled her. Her 
 motive in obeying the summons was probably more 
 connected with a desire to regularize her financial 
 affairs than with any idea of building up a family 
 life in Toronto. 
 
 It must have cost her a real pang to leave Ottilie, 
 for whose child she had stood god-mother, and for 
 whose well-being she was trying to use her growing 
 influence in Weimar. " Everything to Ottilie's ad- 
 vantage has been spread by us under the general 
 expression, ' Mrs. Jameson has written it,' " wrote 
 one of her correspondents while she was still at 
 Vienna. It is evident that Ottilie had become very 
 
 127 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 dear to her and that she was willing to give up 
 much for her sake. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Ottllie von Goethe. 
 
 London, 
 
 Jtme 27, 1836. 
 
 You are an angel sometimes and I love you 
 when you justify my love for you ! and how I pity 
 you ; outwardly in a false position, inwardly devoured 
 by a malady, a madness, I can call it nothing else : 
 consumed, not by love, there would be some sense in 
 that, but by the desire to be loved, the appetite for 
 exciting and being excited. . . . Forgive me, forgive 
 me, my own O. but when I read your letter in which 
 you begin by showing me how far you are from reason 
 and composure, when I find not one word of any of 
 your children, and a great deal about those horrid men 
 who have destroyed your happiness and mine, — I see 
 there is no hope — what pain, what fear, what shame 
 overpowers me 1 Laniitle et [sic] bien fade apres 
 Vamour. ... 
 
 If I must give up the world, let the world go — it is 
 not necessary for me, you are ! It does not need 
 me, you do I If I find there is a possibility of living 
 with content in that place [Canada] and if the world 
 treats you hardly, if you find difficulties about your 
 child, will you come to me there? If I can arrange 
 the means and a home for you with me or near me? 
 And if the contrary should happen (as is most likely) 
 and I find that I cannot stay there, will you patiently 
 wait for me some months and take care of yourself till 
 I rejoin you? .Which I will do if I live J 
 
 128 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A NEW WORLD 
 
 In September 1836, Anna set sail, with many mis- 
 givings, for America. The start was not auspicious. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Off St. Helens, Isle of Wight, 
 
 Wednesday. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — 
 
 It seems almost a selfish thing to write to you in 
 the state in which I am, but after the dreadful gale 
 on Saturday and Sunday last it will be a satisfaction 
 to you all, I believe, to know that I am at least safe ; 
 we came on board on Friday night (the 7th) and next 
 morning sailed with a side wind — we were then off St. 
 Helens — it came on a violent gale ahead as the sailors 
 say. We were buffeted down the channel and then 
 buffeted up again and after two days and nights 
 of horrible suffering we were again off St. Helens 
 and there we have remained. I have suflfered 
 dreadfully and do not get over it like the other 
 passengers, who have all been very well since we 
 have been at anchor ; till yesterday evening I have 
 never touched food since Friday morning last and am 
 of course very much exhausted and so low and dejected 
 
 129 I 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 that it requires the strongest effort not to go ashore 
 with my letter and return to you all ; so much do 
 the thoughts of all I have left, and all to which I 
 go, oppress ,my mind. However I suppose I must go 
 through with it. There is nothing in the society around 
 me to console or interest me for a moment. There is 
 a large family of Jews, rich people from the Minories, 
 a mother, three daughters, a son and a son-in-law 
 (and the daughters sing duetts) ; five children from 
 2 months old to 5 years ; in all 23 people who eat, 
 drink, chatter from morning to night within a few 
 feet of my bed ; there is apparently much good nature 
 but nothing else ; that however is something and, in 
 the very weak state I now am, I felt its value when I 
 left my berth for the first time yesterday evening. . . . 
 
 Pray write to me soon — it seems an age since I left 
 you — if you see Mrs. Procter tell her I have just taken 
 out her beautiful work, but as yet my weak dazzled 
 eyes cannot do much — my best love to her. Is it not 
 hard to have suffered so much before the voyage is 
 even begun, for no one considers that it is even begun 
 till we have passed the Lizard lights. God bless you 
 my dear father and my dear mother — and dear sisters 
 all — I hope you will receive this but am not sure, so 
 I omit many things I could wish to say ; once more, 
 God bless you. 
 
 ,We are to make an attempt to sail to-day, wind 
 South West; most contrary. 
 
 Off the Motherbank, Portsmouth, 
 
 Friday, October \^th. 
 
 I tremble to think, my dearest Father and Mother 
 and sisters, that you may have heard of the disasters 
 
 130 
 
A New World 
 
 which have occurred along the coast and are in anxiety 
 about my fate. Thank God, I am safe. I wrote to 
 you a few Unes on Wednesday to be put in the two- 
 penny post, but luckily they will not have reached you. 
 I told you, in that letter, that we had embarked on 
 Friday evening and on Saturday morning (the 8th) 
 attempted to proceed down the Channel, but were driven 
 back by the gale and anchored on Monday morning 
 again at St. Helens. During all this time I was almost 
 insensible to every thing but intense suffering ; I think 
 one could hardly suffer more and live. 1 wrote you 
 this on Wednesday and added that the Captain had 
 resolved to sail again that evening — luckily, most 
 providentially, the captain was overruled by the Pilot 
 on board ; he had sufficient candour and caution to 
 give way — the same evening came on the most furious 
 gale we have yet experienced. It was perfectly 
 tremendous ; though at anchor, we were pitched and 
 tossed like a nutshell and the vessel was in imminent 
 danger of breaking from her moorings, so the Captain 
 confessed to me yesterday but that even in such a case 
 though the vessel might have been damaged or lost 
 we should have been saved. I was dreadfully ill all 
 night and yesterday suffered from exhaustion as much 
 as ever — to-day the weather is more moderate and 
 I am better, only weak, nervous and giddy ; several 
 vessels have perished, and one (I shiver to think of 
 it) about six miles from St. Helens, was dashed to 
 pieces ; she was returning from the West Indies with 
 passengers on board and all perished with the crew ; 
 only 3 sailors escaped. You may imagine how 
 thankful we were that on that dreadful night we 
 were in comparative safety ; there is no cause 
 
 131 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 for apprehension on my account, for I see that the 
 Captain is cautious as well as skilful and will not 
 again attempt to sail till the weather is settled and the 
 wind changed, of which there are indications already. 
 As to the society around me, all are respectable people, 
 but of the commonest class ; there is a Jewish family, 
 apparently Shopkeepers, going out to Cincinatti, a Jewish 
 Bride and Bridegroom, Mr. and Mrs. Solomon Moses, 
 the wife of the son of Saunders (my bookseller) a 
 pretty little woman with her two infants, the eldest 
 not 1 8 months, 3 other children under the care of a 
 maiden aunt — one of which, a delicate mismanaged boy, 
 begins to scream and shriek every morning about five 
 or six o'clock and screams perseveringly till his father 
 gets up and whips him — we have this scene regularly ; 
 of the other people I can say nothing except a fat 
 goodnatured woman from Quebec, very like Mrs. Glover 
 in some of her characters. To be thirty days (at 
 best) with this society appears to me sometimes worse 
 than seasickness, storms or anything in the world and 
 to think that in 24 hours I could escape all this ! 
 and be with you safe and well ! the temptation almost 
 makes my head turn ; yet why give myself airs with 
 people on whom I am to descend for any particle of 
 comfort and sympathy I am to expect for the next six 
 weeks? All treat me with civility and respect and with 
 this I must be content ; sometimes in the midst of all, 
 a sense of the ludicrous and the grotesque comes across 
 me and I could laugh if I were not too utterly miserable. 
 Last night Mrs. Solomon Moses and Miss Matilda Levy 
 got my guitar and amused the company by playing on 
 it ; my poor guhar I ! Well, I believe I must stop, 
 for my head will bear no more stooping. . . . Every- 
 
 132 
 
A New World 
 
 one on board has some appurtenance — mother or sister 
 or husband or relation or friend ; I am quite alone 
 among them in every sense. 
 
 May God bless you all and send me once again to 
 you in safety to find you all well. Believe me I 
 will not again in a hurry trust to these unstable winds 
 and waters. 
 
 I kiss you a thousand times and bless you from my 
 heart. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 A little note written to Ottilie on her birthday 
 shows how often her thoughts must have turned to 
 her during the tedious voyage across the Atlantic. 
 She had been occupied with her friend's concerns 
 even in the midst of her preparations to leave Eng- 
 land, having brought over to London her sister, 
 Baroness Ulrike von Pogwisch ; like everything that 
 had to do with Ottilie, the arrangement had been 
 one of mixed experiences. Ulrike was as lively 
 as her sister, without having the latter's attaching 
 qualities, and Anna was evidently at her wits' end 
 to know what to do with her. Hay ward, who had 
 been an angel, was now a serpent, who gossiped 
 when he should have held his tongue ; Ulrike was 
 a headstrong young lady who insisted on having 
 her own way. Anna had been a good deal vexed 
 about the whole affair, but nothing changed her 
 devotion to Ottilie. On October 31st she wrote: 
 " I can only say that I love you and bless you and 
 think of you ever, and if I were going to die and 
 
 133 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 had but two pulses left to my heart, one would be 
 for you, my own dear Ottilie ! " 
 
 Anna Jameson to her parents and sisters. 
 
 New York, 
 
 November 29, 1836. 
 
 My dearest Father, Mamma, and sisters all ! 
 
 You will be surprised to find I am still here 
 and yet more surprised to hear that I have no tidings 
 of Jameson — not one word. I am — just as I was writing 
 these lines in came a letter from Jameson which had 
 been sent to the British Consul ; it is like all his 
 letters, very well written, very plausible, very kind, 
 agreeing to everything. I shall set off immediately 
 and have a world of business and packing up to be 
 done. I had a short but sharp illness of three days, 
 owing to the effects of my voyage and worry and 
 suspense, but except this I have been well. The 
 enthusiasm about me here is very great, even to a 
 troublesome degree, for I have more engagements than 
 I can possibly keep, more visitors than I can see and 
 more devoted admirers than I can count. I have made 
 an agreement about a new edition of the Characteristics 
 which is likely to produce 500 dollars ; the two last 
 copies which remained were sold by a bookseller here 
 for 1 2 dollars each — 3 times the original price — such 
 has been the run after my books. I am dying for news 
 from my dear Home and feel too truly and deeply 
 that I am going to Toronto with far more distrust 
 and fear than confidence and hope. If I could believe 
 all that Jameson writes, I might suppose I was going 
 into an Elysium ; but the puzzling thing is, to recon- 
 
 134 
 
A New World 
 
 cile his words and his actions, what he is and what he 
 seems ; he is quite past my comprehension. 
 
 Charles Augustus Davis, the author of Major 
 Downing's letters, and his very pleasing wife, are among 
 my best friends. I dined a few days ago with the widow 
 of the celebrated de Witt Clinton. She is quite a 
 character and amused me exceedingly ; she gave me 
 a wampum bag which had been a present to her from 
 an Indian chief. In the way of presents, my table is 
 covered with books — presentation copies — poems — and 
 the Lord knows what. I had a long visit yesterday 
 from Washington Irving ' who has a most benevolent 
 and agreeable countenance and talks well. I send 
 dear Father some American newspapers which may 
 perhaps amuse him ; this is all I can send for the 
 present. ' 
 
 God bless you all. 
 
 . . . Write soon for God's sake ! , 
 
 Toronto, 
 
 New Year's Day. 
 
 My dearest Father, Mamma, and sisters all,— 
 
 May God bless you and me and grant that on 
 this next year I may be with you ; may we prosper 
 though separated, may we be all preserved to each 
 other to meet again. I imagine you all assembled 
 either round Mamma's or Henry's hospitable table and 
 I know you think of me. ... In this place all days 
 are alike ; Christmas Day and New Year's day are 
 only distinguished by especial dullness and gloom caused 
 by the thoughts of home and the more than usual still- 
 ness, as all are making holiday who are so blessed as 
 
 ^ Washington Irving, 1 783-1859. 
 135 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 to have family and friends. Here I am as completely 
 isolated as if I were in a desolate island, God knows 
 where ; but I must give you some account of my 
 journey from New York, only observing, first, that 
 this is the first opportunity I have had of sending a 
 letter and packet safely, and secondly, that I am in 
 despair to have no letters, not a line since I left you 
 from any one in the world that I care for. . . . 
 
 Well, but for my travels, which may perhaps amuse 
 dear Papa ; I left New York on the 6th, very sad and 
 with many misgivings, for Jameson remained still in- 
 explicable and I had no letter in answer to mine written 
 on my first arrival ; but 1 had also no money left 
 and I thought the letter had miscarried, so off I set, 
 accompanied to the last moment by every kind atten- 
 tion and every mark of interest. I had a convoy of 
 6 friends to the Steamboat, lingering till the paddles 
 began to splash and loading me with letters, advice, 
 comforts and kind words ; the enormous boat con- 
 tained more than 400 passengers and the scene was 
 very curious. Unfortunately there was no day boat. 
 We set off after a glowing sunset and I sat or walked 
 on deck as long as I could, to escape the stifling air of 
 the ladies' cabin where 89 women were stuffed pell- 
 mell — some in berths, some on the ground, on chairs, 
 and with children sprawling about. I threw myself 
 on to my berth in despair and slept while we were 
 passing, in the dark, through some of the grandest 
 scenery in the world, the shores of the Hudson and the 
 Catskill mountains. I had taken my passage to Albany, 
 but the Captain had stuck up a notice that he would 
 only go as far as the ice permitted. When we got a 
 little beyond Catskill and about 6 miles below Hudson, 
 
 136 
 
A New World 
 
 we encountered ice in great quantities ; it was now 
 daylight, a bright but intensely cold morning. At 
 length the expanse presented only an icy surface but 
 the gigantic boat, armed for the purpose with an iron 
 prow, kept on crashing her way through the ice which 
 closed behind so as to scarcely leave a track a few 
 yards from the stern ; it was a strange and beautiful 
 sight. We reached Hudson at 9 and there were obliged 
 to stop as it was freezing powerfully and the captain 
 feared being frozen up at Albany. We and our luggage 
 were tossed out without ceremony and I joined a party 
 in taking a carriage on to Albany, with a waggon 
 for my baggage ; we jolted the 30 miles in about 
 8 hours, through a fine country, but wintry looking and 
 thinly inhabited. At Albany I met a person known to 
 Mr. Jameson, a Mr. Percival Ridout, some distant rela- 
 tion of the Mr. Ridout who married Mathilda Bramley. 
 This most goodnatured and goodlooking young man 
 took me and baggage under his protection and proved 
 a most efficient Cavalier ; he had not much cultivation 
 or manners, but he had great activity and cheerfulness 
 and was quite unassuming — though as for conversation 
 there was none. From Albany to Utica we went by 
 the rail road 90 miles in 6 hours, with 8 carriages each 
 containing 24 persons. From Utica we came on to 
 Rochester, in 36 hours. It was horrid travelling ; the 
 Canal was frozen, the stage coaches are the most extra- 
 ordinary clumsy, ill looking, mean looking things you 
 can imagine, holding 9 persons, 3 in a row — but the 
 coaches suit the roads, on which certainly the " Tally 
 ho " or the " Brighton age " would have capsized in 
 five minutes. Such a road I did never yet behold, or 
 rather I was destined to see them " before they were 
 
 137 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 made." I recollect we were once 6 hours going 9 miles 
 and with 4 horses, often for hours through half burnt 
 forests, the blackened stumps of enormous trees just 
 seen above the snow ; a dismal prospect ! I had 
 various specimens of American manners which amused 
 me. I remember once, in the middle of the night, as 
 we went lumbering and jolting along in darkness, fear 
 and misery, some of the luggage fell from the top (or 
 as they call it the deck) of the coach. We stopped 
 and a gentleman next me put his head out of the 
 window, asking what was the matter? to which the 
 coachman or driver replied : " Don't you stand jabber- 
 ing there, you ! but come and lend a hand to heave 
 these things aboard, I can't stand here in the road 
 all night I guess." The gentleman, not discomposed, 
 jumped out and lent a hand and on my expressing my 
 astonishment at the indescribable insolence of the driver, 
 he laughed exceedingly and said that it had not struck 
 him, that the man was a very civil decent fellow, only 
 a little cross with the cold and the road, which was 
 quite natural. We did not sleep at Rochester, but 
 hired a carriage and came on at once to Lewiston, 
 40 miles in 28 hours, crossed the Niagara in a Ferry 
 in the dark and slept at Queenston, for I could go 
 no further ; 1 was quite ill and done up. The next 
 morning (Monday 13) we got two spring carts of the 
 country for selves and baggage and just reached the 
 town of Niagara in time to go by the steam vessel — 
 our good luck was the greater as it was the last trip 
 of the season, the bays and harbours beginning to 
 freeze, I had written to Alma the night before, inviting 
 myself to breakfast, but that was impossible. I just 
 saw Alma for a moment on board the steamer ; he 
 
 138 
 
A New World 
 
 embraced me most warmly, he is not quite so juvenile in 
 face and figure, but in other respects quite the same — 
 the same good fellow, overflowing with genuine Irish 
 heart and soul. From Niagara to Toronto by land is 
 loo miles and two days journey over horrid roads, by 
 the lake 36 miles ; the water was as rough as I have 
 often seen it at sea. After an hour of very melancholy 
 thoughts and feelings, I threw myself down quite ex- 
 hausted and slept till I was told we were at Toronto. 
 My reception was rather chilling ; there was no one to 
 meet me, though J. was in daily expectation of my 
 arrival. I was still obliged to my Cavalier. On my 
 arrival at the house, it was worse still ; all looked 
 cold, comfortless, the fires out, or nearly so, a bedroom 
 had been half prepared for me, on the unmade bed, 
 things were piled. The servants looked half surprised, 
 half alarmed and I felt as miserable as possible. I 
 put, however, a good face on the matter and when J. 
 returned he seemed at least glad to see me. 
 
 The new house which he is building, from the plans 
 I have seen, must be a nice comfortable little place. 
 I remarked that there was no arrangement made for 
 a friend — no place to put Alma and Emily if they came 
 over, or any friend who might stray this way, but I 
 thought the omission characteristic. Snow came on the 
 day or two after my arrival and the whole country 
 is one wild, white, flat, dreary waste^the sledges or 
 sleighs coming in from all directions — for great is the 
 joy when the sleighing begins — it being the only time 
 when the roads are tolerably passable and wood and 
 provisions cheaper. My household consists of a respect- 
 able widow Mrs. Scott, who is cook and housekeeper, 
 but unluckily knows no more cooking than I do, but 
 
 139 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 she is an honest good soul recommended by Mrs. 
 Hepburn so I make no objections ; my maid is a 
 tidy good-natured girl, the daughter of an emigrant 
 farmer, who, she tells me, is living in the Bush, that 
 is, has taken land in the forest to clear and settle about 
 8 miles off. Her name is Ursula— and there is a foot- 
 man, a good sort of harum scarum lad of nineteen or 
 twenty. They all seem to like me much now and look 
 well satisfied with my government. 
 
 On my arrival the Governor sent his secretary with 
 a polite message of congratulation, expressing his regret 
 that Etiquette did not allow him to visit in person 
 the ladies of the place, but he hoped I would find some 
 grievances to complain of or petition to present, and 
 so be induced to visit him. I did not like this at all, 
 for, as far as I can judge hitherto, the only man worth 
 knowing in the place is himself. . . . 
 
 I believe that I did not tell you that, when at New 
 York, I entered into an agreement with Frederic 
 Saunders to publish another edition of the Charac- 
 teristics — for the American editions were exhausted and 
 the people wild after it ; it was to be printed in one 
 volume and he engaged me to make ten etchings for 
 it that might be something peculiar. I brought the 
 plates here to Toronto and set to work as soon as I 
 was well enough and in 20 days finished eleven etchings 
 — but behold there was no press to prove the plates 
 and when I had finished all, as well as I could, with 
 much trouble and anxiety, Saunders being in the 
 greatest haste, I packed all up to go off to New York 
 and then could find no conveyance which would be 
 responsible for the safe carriage of the packet and 
 no respectable person (who would take charge of them) 
 
 140 
 
A New World 
 
 was going — so the plates lie by me, the publication of 
 the book is stopped. Saunders is in despair and the 
 loss to him and to me will probably be considerable 
 and all because through this half-settled, half-civilized 
 country (I mean the neighbouring states), the roads, 
 conveyances etc. are in a more barbarous condition 
 than you can imagine. No sum that I could pay could 
 ensure the safety of my packet, for, as they told me, 
 nothing was certain but its loss ; it is as if one was 
 out of the world. 
 
 I have been here at Toronto just one month and have 
 been out of the house twice ; once in a sleigh to return 
 visits and once a short walk to visit Mrs. Draper ; it 
 is so difficult to walk on the snow and in that I was in 
 continual danger of falling. The runners of the sleighs 
 form a slippery path in the centre and on each side 
 there is a more slippery and more dangerous foot- 
 path — most people wear cloth or list shoes over their 
 leather ones. Of the dreadful bitterness of the climate 
 I can scarcely give you an idea and I feel it the more 
 from the discomfort of the house in which we are 
 lodged, which seems to let in the wintry air on every 
 side. One morning I found the snow lying in a heap 
 inside my window, and literally burying some books 
 and papers which were lying there. .When the snow 
 falls here it does not fall in flakes, at least not in 
 general, but in a kind of firm powder, like frozen mist 
 penetrating everywhere unless the doors and windows 
 are made absolutely airtight. 
 
 Now what shall I tell you more, my dearest ones? 
 I believe I have said all I have to say but I shall leave 
 my letter open to the last moment, I have just heard 
 of the wreck of another vessel from England ; io8 
 
 141 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 persons perished in sight of the shore and only a few 
 miles from New York, by reason of the neglect of 
 the pilots who are at present at feud with the civil 
 authorities ! Is it not horrible? But to return once 
 more to you all, how willingly would 1 undergo again 
 all I suffered, and danger to boot— Goodnight and God 
 bless you all. 
 
 Jan. 7. Since I began my letter I have had an 
 attack of ague to which it seems this climate exposes 
 all newcomers and I am told to my comfort that I shall 
 suffer much more in the Spring;'. I am now better but 
 rather weak from fever — ^in a day or two I am going 
 to Niagara to spend a few days with Alma and Emily 
 and for change of air. I shall also visit the Falls so 
 that my next letter will contain a full account of all 
 these wonderful things. . . . The day before yester- 
 day Mr. Hepburn and Col. Gibbons brought three 
 Chippewas Indians to visit me ; they came from the 
 upper part of Lake Huron on a mission to the 
 Governor. The chief was named the " White Deer," 
 his two attendants " The Beaver " and " The Great 
 Buffaloe." They were dressed in rude coats of blanket 
 and caps of the same, they were quite unembarrassed 
 and when I received them with a chain of wampum 
 round my neck, they smiled and seemed pleased — wam- 
 pum you know is the sign of peace and friendship. 
 I gave them luncheon which they ate very tidily and 
 prayed the Great Spirit to reward my hospitality. . . , 
 
 Anna could not reconcile herself to Toronto, 
 
 which she called a fifth-rate provincial town, with 
 
 142 
 
A New World 
 
 aspirations to be considered a capital city. She 
 describes it in " Winter Studies " as " a little ill-built 
 town on low land, at the bottom of a frozen bay, 
 with one very ugly church without tower or steeple ; 
 some Government offices built of staring red brick, 
 in the most tasteless vulgar style imaginable ; three 
 feet of snow all around ; and the grey, sullen wintry 
 lake and the dark gloom of the pine forest bounding 
 the prospect." The biting cold had probably a 
 good deal to do with her despondency. The ink 
 froze while she wrote, her fingers stiffened round 
 her pen ; a glass of water placed by her bedside 
 was a solid block of ice in the morning. There was 
 no society to amuse her, she was not suited to the 
 life and was on no better terms with her husband 
 than she had been before. The only bright spot 
 appeared to be the prospect of his becoming 
 Chancellor, a post which he afterwards obtained ; 
 he was subsequently Speaker of the House of 
 Assembly. 
 
 The distracted state, politically speaking, of a 
 country that she allowed to be " magnificent," 
 though its clunate and social conditions appalled 
 her, called from Anna the following characteristic 
 statement of her views : '' In politics I acknow- 
 ledge two parties, those who hope and those who 
 fear. In morals but two parties— those who lie 
 and those who speak truth ; and all the world 
 I divide into those who love and those who 
 
 hate." 
 
 143 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Parents and Sisters. 
 
 My dearest People,— 
 
 There is no news from this place — we are still 
 snowed up and the thermometer was on Monday at 
 2 2 below zero 54 below freezing point. I see nobody 
 and care for nobody; I occupy myself incessantly and 
 send the time away. The Chancery Bill has passed 
 and I am in hopes the appointment of Chancellor will 
 follow quickly; the Salary of the Attorney General is 
 1200 a year including fees and contingencies — and the 
 Salary of the Chancellor will be 1200 a year — not 
 including fees, and so the income doubles or nearly 
 so. Jameson will make an excellent Chancellor, he is 
 just cut out for the office, so cautious, so inoffensive and 
 so clever in Chancery practise. My hope is to be in 
 Europe by next September or October; nothing can 
 describe my detestation of this place — or to speak more 
 truly, my perception of my own unfitness for it. 
 
 I saw last night 8 houses burned to the ground — I 
 was so near that the heat almost blistered my face and 
 I helped to watch the poor people's things ; some 
 of the Irishmen risked their lives in a frightful manner 
 — God bless them ! none like them in good or mischief. 
 A poor woman, upon whose bedstead I was standing, 
 was looking steadily and quietly at her house blazing. 
 I said to her with compassion — " It is dreadful to stand 
 by and look on thus and see all one's property des- 
 troyed." She replied very quietly " Yes Ma'am — but 
 I dare say some g"ood will come of it ; all is for the 
 best if we only knew it." What do you think of that 
 for Philosophy? Luckily it was a calm night and the 
 snow lay deep, otherwise I believe half the town would 
 
 144 
 
A New World 
 
 have been destroyed. There were some frightful acci- 
 dents caused by the recklessness of the people and the 
 want of police. As I came home, when all was nearly 
 over, a sleigh passed me, gliding at full speed, a man 
 lifeless upon it — I know not whom yet. Now I must 
 stop — I am to-day not well and all my bones ache. 
 God bless you all and keep you. I have only one 
 thought, wish, fear, hope — Home, Home, Home! My 
 best love all round . 
 
 145 K 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 RAMBLES AMONG THE RED MEN 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Parents and Sisters. 
 
 Niagara, 
 
 January 30, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Mamma, dearest Father and Sisters 
 ALL — this is the fifth letter I Write to you since my 
 arrival in these strange lands and as yet not one word 
 from home nor indeed from any body ! I know you 
 have written to me, I feel sure of that, but is it not 
 cruel that I do not receive a letter? I cannot describe 
 to you my anxiety and impatience about you all ; dearest 
 Papa and how he stands the cold weather — and my 
 Darling Babies — both of them; and then I think of 
 the Holidays and whether the dear Girls have kept it up 
 in Bruton Street and Mortimer St. and then I think 
 and fear — till I can no longer bear my own thoughts. 
 I would not live in this place were it a paradise ; luckily 
 it is altogether detestable. Now I must tell you where 
 I am and what I have been doing — January 24 I set 
 off in a very nice sleigh, with Mr. Campbell (Clerk of 
 the Assize here) and came to the Almas, who had sent 
 •me a most hearty invitation to visit them — & go to 
 see the falls. The distance in summer is 36 miles & 
 
 146 
 
MRS. MURPHY. 
 
 After a miniature. 
 
 To race p. 146. 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 you cross the lake in the steamer; in winter we have 
 to make the circuit round the head of the lake — a round 
 of ICG miles. The journey was very pleasant, not 
 excepting an overset into a millrace filled up with snow. 
 Alma met me with his sleigh at St. Catherine's and we 
 arrived to dinner on Wednesday; Emily received me 
 with the most affectionate joy and I find myself very 
 much at home. 
 
 Saturday we drove over to the Falls of Niagara^ 
 which are 14 miles from the town. I must confess 
 that the first glance disappointed me, for you see them 
 first from the top of a high hill and looking down 
 upon them they are foreshortened and part of the height 
 lost ; but, when I had been looking at them for a 
 couple of hours and from different points of view, my 
 mind began to open to their immensity and sublimity. 
 The most beautiful effect was produced from the snow 
 and ice around, the freezing of the spray on the neigh- 
 bouring rocks and trees at some little distance from the 
 main Falls ; the water, oozing from the rocks, had 
 frozen into great gigantic icicles of a pale green hue 
 and the rocks lying in the river were similarly encrusted. 
 I tramped about in the snow and on the ice until I 
 became quite ill from fatigue, cold and excitement and 
 all day yesterday and to-day my limbs ache as if I 
 had been racked and I cannot even walk across the 
 room. You must forgive this hurried letter. I send it 
 off not to lose the opportunity which offers of sending 
 it free. I will write again soon, and so God keep 
 you all. 
 
 A more detailed account of this expedition is 
 to be found in " Winter Studies," where the journey 
 
 147 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 through white, snow-covered wastes and dreary pine 
 forests is well described. It is always a picture 
 of desolation. The thunder of the waters, unfrozen 
 where the rapids keep them in perpetual motion, 
 breaking on an iron shore, the sight of a great bald- 
 headed eagle swooping down on to the topmost 
 branch of a blasted pine-tree, arrest her attention ; 
 and then all is monotony again. A halt at a village 
 inn, where French fashions are framed on the walls 
 and a copy of Don Juan is on the table, makes an 
 amusing interlude and here, tumbling out of the 
 mail coach from Hamilton, she sees some weird 
 figures wrapped in bearskins, who turn out to be a 
 party of Members of the House of Assembly on 
 their way to Toronto. 
 
 Her bitter disappointment at the first sight of 
 Niagara was only equalled by her disgust with her- 
 self for being disappointed. " What has come over 
 my soul and senses? I am no longer Anna— I am 
 metamorphosed— I am translated— I am an ass's 
 head, a clod, a wooden spoon, a fat weed growing 
 on Lethe's bank, a stock, a stone, a petrifaction— 
 for have I not seen Niagara, the wonder of 
 wonders ; and felt— no words can tell what dis- 
 appointment ! " 
 
 During her exile in Toronto Anna kept up a 
 vigorous correspondence, not only with her own 
 family but with friends in England and Germany. 
 Her thoughts were, as usual, much with Ottilie, to 
 whom she wrote on February 19, 1837 :— 
 
 148 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 " Your life has been one of passion and suffering and 
 intervals of tranquility have been to you intervals of 
 ennui. When the storm of sensation and emotion is 
 over, you feel as if your heart were dead, but it is not 
 so and I will prove it to you one day. You say I do 
 not understand you and I say I do understand you. I 
 have felt sometimes when I have been sitting beside 
 you and we have been talking together, that you have 
 not always understood my words, and that I could not 
 always explain to you what arose from a difference of 
 language, habits and associations and national nature ; 
 but always I felt that you understood me." 
 
 Anna Jameson to D. Brownell Murphy. 
 
 Toronto, 
 
 April 27, 1837. 
 
 My dearest dear Father,— 
 
 . . . To-day we have had the first spring day 
 and the snow has almost entirely disappeared. I hope 
 to be with you about the end of the summer. I will 
 not make you melancholy by telling you of what I 
 have suffered in this long and most miserable winter. 
 Mr. Jameson is just the same and I am just the same 
 therefore we are just as much and as hopelessly sepa- 
 rated as ever; he has done nothing to make the time 
 tolerable to me, but this not from absolute unkindness, 
 but mere absence of feeling; he has no associates 
 here and does not require them. Another winter would 
 I think kill me— I do not say I should die literally, but 
 my mind and all that is good in me would die; as it 
 is, the hope of being emancipated sustains me and I 
 
 149 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 am so far from giving way that I try, as far as it is 
 possible, to amuse and occupy myself. I have lately 
 been to three great dinner parties — one given by the 
 principal Banker, one by the new Attorney-General 
 Hagermann and one by the Governor; the last was 
 pleasant, for 1 sat (by right of office) next to Sir 
 Francis Head — and he is admirable and converses ad- 
 mirably — the others were very dull, like most dinner 
 parties. The cold narrow minds, the confined ideas, 
 the by-gone prejudices of the society, are hardly con- 
 ceivable; books there arc none, nor music and as to 
 pictures ! — the Lord deliver us from such ! — the people 
 do not know what a picture is. You know that I am so 
 far spoiled by meeting with love and approbation 
 wherever I go, that the contrary must be a little pain- 
 ful. The women here express, vulgarly enough, an 
 extreme fear of the " authoress " and I am anything 
 but popular. 
 
 I wish you had seen the beautiful Aurora Borealis I 
 saw the other night ; it spread like a fan over the 
 heavens; the lower point of a soft white lambent light, 
 the upper diverging rays tinged with the deepest crimson 
 — and so transparent I could see the stars through them 
 — I never saw anything more beautiful and it varied in 
 shape and hue every instant. As for this great Lake 
 Ontario, the land is all flat around it; where there are 
 not upstart towns, there are marshes and forests. The 
 lake is so enormous, that it has all the monotony of the 
 sea, without its infinitude and magnificence. My next 
 letter will be dated from the falls of Niagara where 
 I am going to spend a fortnight and then I hope to 
 be able to send you some thing quite sublime and 
 beautiful. 
 
 ISO 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Parents. 
 
 Toronto, 
 
 May 26, 1837. 
 
 My dearest Father and Mamma,— 
 
 After a long period of dejection and anxiety I 
 am to-day absolutely overwhelmed with letters ; first 
 dear Charlotte's, which with its hopeful and cheerful 
 spirit, has quite raised mine, she and Eliza I do maintain 
 to be perfection, at least, in my eyes, they are not less 
 than the very best of dear good girls. We shall do 
 well yet ; indeed I think we do well considering all 
 things. ... I have a long letter from Ottilie, full of 
 tenderness and all manner of things; letters from her 
 sons, acknowledging the waistcoats, which Walther says 
 were so '' gtanzend" (brilliant) that the ladies cast 
 down their eyes, unable to bear the splendour, also 
 from her mother (Frau von Pogwisch), from Noel, from 
 the Countess Hohenthal etc. In all 13 letters in one 
 day; the effect has been to agitate me very much and 
 make me hardly able to write. ... 
 
 There is an end to everything, even to a Canadian 
 winter, and spring brought new spirit to the weary 
 woman whose health had suffered much from the 
 rigours of the climate. "This beautiful Lake 
 Ontario!" she wrote on May 19th, "my lake— 
 for I begin to be in love with it and look on it as 
 mine ! " In June she started on an adventurous 
 journey, bound for out-of-the-way spots never 
 visited by European woman before, intending to 
 visit the Indians in their wigwams and specially 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 anxious to find out all she could with regard to the 
 position of women amongst the natives. She stayed 
 for a fortnight at Niagara before venturing further 
 afield, and was now better able to appreciate one 
 of the marvels of the world. 
 
 Anna Jameson to D. Brownell Murphy. 
 
 Falls of Niagara, 
 
 June 21, 1837, 
 
 I remember, my dearest Father, how often when I 
 was a child you used to talk to me of these great 
 Cataracts; and how I wish from my heart that you 
 were here with me to enjoy the glorious spectacle they 
 now present ! When I saw them for the first time in 
 Winter I was rather disappointed; in fact it is impos- 
 sible for the mind to take them in at the first glance. 
 I have now been here for three or four days and I begin 
 to understand all their grandeur and all their beauty. 
 They change their appearance every half hour; every 
 alteration of the wind, the atmosphere, even the hour 
 of the day, makes an alteration of form and colour, 
 but I think that, on the whole, I have been more struck 
 by the rapids above the falls than by the falls them- 
 selves ; no description has ever done justice to them, 
 none ever could. The ocean lashed into breakers, 
 making its way through wooded islands, the foliage and 
 the foam of the leaping waves mingled together ,and 
 the splendour of colour and light over the whole, render 
 it one of the most wonderful scenes I ever beheld. 
 
 I am staying here for some days previous to com- 
 mencing a little tour which I have planned and shall 
 execute if I have strength. Ki Toronto I was both ill 
 
 152 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 and unhappy — every hour added to my aversion and 
 my misery, mthout society or sympathy and always 
 watching myself lest I should offend the people. I 
 felt like one caged and fettered and quitted the place 
 with a light heart. The same day I left, Jameson 
 opened his Court as Chancellor and I hear there will 
 be immense business. 
 
 I have just received your letter, my dearest Father, 
 dated April 25th. It has made me very happy and 
 I shall now begin my journey with some courage and 
 cheerfulness. How much I shall have to tell you when 
 we meet ! I trust in God that next winter shall be 
 different from the last; it has been a time of general 
 suffering every way and apparently extending from 
 nation to nation down to the humblest individuals. Dis- 
 astrous changes of fortune, sickness, all manner of 
 troubles have prevailed, and for my own part I never 
 spent a winter so wretchedly ; it was all unmingled 
 suffering. I do not doubt dear Eliza's virtue and 
 benevolence, nor Charlotte's filial duty; but may I not 
 help them ! It must be, that they. Avill have the happi- 
 ness of doing more for your and Mamma's daily happi- 
 ness than I can, but I must have my part too. I have 
 not absolutely given up all thoughts of writing and, 
 on the contrary, have a work in great forwardness ; but 
 at present I cannot apply myself to scribbling. There is 
 so much to see and learn that I must seize the oppor- 
 tunity of appropriating knowledge to be digested and 
 applied afterwards. Now take your Map and lay it 
 before you, and trace my intended journey. I am 
 going from this to Hamilton — near the west end of 
 Lake Ontario — thence westward to Brantford on the 
 Grand River and thence to Blandford, where I stay a 
 
 153 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 day with Mrs. Arnold — thence to London, thence to 
 Port Talbot where I shall spend a day with Colonel 
 Talbot of Malahide — he settled in this country 30 years 
 ago under strange circumstances and has a beautiful 
 property on Lake Erie; there I embark for Detroit — 
 where I hope to meet Mr. and Mrs. MacMurray and 
 go with them to their settlement among the Indians at 
 the very extremity of Lake Huron. I wish to see, with 
 my own eyes, the condition of women in savage life. 
 Thence I come round the north west shore of Lake 
 Huron with an Indian escort and by the Manitoulin 
 Islands, Penetanguishene and Lake Simcoe back to 
 Toronto; thence, after rest, down the St. Lawrence to 
 Montreal and Quebec and then by Boston to New York 
 — and thence Home to you. This is my plan but we 
 can only propose and I hear of so many difficulties and 
 obstacles that I begin to prepare myself for disappoint- 
 ment ; only one thing is certain that if I live, I will 
 be in London about October next. . . . 
 
 Your dutiful and affectionate Child 
 
 Anna. 
 
 The journey, with all its difficulties and some 
 dangers, was accomplished most satisfactorily, Anna 
 being everywhere received with great kindness. 
 •WTiile going up Lake Superior in a canoe she heard 
 the news of Queen Victoria's Accession. 
 
 Anna Jameson to the Honble. Amelia Murray ^ 
 
 We hailed a schooner with "What news?" 
 " William IV is dead and Queen Victoria reigning 
 in his stead I " 
 
 ^ Published in Reminiscences by the Honourable Amelia Murray. 
 
 154 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 We sat there silent, looking at one another and at 
 that moment the orb of day rose out of the lake and 
 poured its beams full in our dazzled eyes. Many 
 thoughts came into my mind, some tears rose into my 
 eyes, not certainly for that dead King, who, in ripe 
 age and in all honour, was gathered to the tomb ; but 
 for that living Queen, so young and so fair. 
 
 As many hopes hung on that noble head, 
 
 As there hang blossoms on the boughs of May. 
 
 And what will become of them, of her? The idea 
 that even here, in this new world of woods and waters, 
 amid these remote wilds, to her utterly unknown, her 
 power reaches and her sovereignty is acknowledged, 
 filled me with compassionate awe. I say com- 
 passionate ; for if she feels, in its full extent, the 
 liabilities of her position, alas for her 1 and if she 
 feels them not, oh ! worse and worse. 
 
 I tried to recall her childish figure and features. 
 I thought over all I had ever heard concerning her. 
 I fancied her not such a thing as they could make 
 a mere pageant of ; for that there is too little without, 
 too much within. And what will they make of her? 
 For at eighteen she will hardly make anything of them, 
 I mean of the men and women around her. It is 
 of the woman I think, more than of the Queen ; for 
 as part of State machinery, she will do quite as well 
 as another, better perhaps ; so far her youth and her 
 sex are absolutely in her favour. If she be but simple- 
 minded and true-hearted and straight-forward, with a 
 common portion of intellect ; if a Royal education 
 has not blunted in her the quick perceptions and pure 
 fine instincts of the woman ; if she has only had fair 
 
 155 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 play and carries into business plain distinct noti<wis 
 of right and wrong, and the fine moral sense that 
 is not to be confounded by diplomatic verbiage about 
 expediency, she will do better for us than a whole 
 Cctbinetful of cut and dried officials, with Talleyrand 
 at the head of them. ! 
 
 And what a fair heritage is this which has fallen 
 upon her I A land young like herself, a land of hopes ; 
 and fair, most fair. Does she know, does she care 
 anything about it? While hearts are beating warm 
 towards her and voices bless her and hands are 
 stretched out towards her, even from these wild lake 
 shores. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Toronto 
 
 August ip/i.^ 
 
 I cannot let this most dear and memorable day 
 pass over without writing to you my dearest Mamma 
 land Eliza, to send you all my blessing and to 
 congratulate myself and all the rest of us on its return. 
 May we see it return many times 1 and when it next 
 returns may I not be so far from you all as 1 am 
 now I and so God bless us all ! 1 fancy you all 
 assembled together at St. John's Wood and I know 
 you will think of me, with the assurance that I am 
 thinking of you. There is not a single soul here that 
 I love sufficiently to invite them to drink your health 
 or share with me in any feeling I now indulge towards 
 you, but I wrote to Emily Alma yesterday and I am 
 sure they Avill both sanctify the day, for they love 
 
 ' Birthday of Mrs. Murphy and her daughter Eliza. 
 156 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 Mamma dearly — as who does not, whoever came within 
 the influence of her blessed presence? Now the rest 
 of my letter is to Papa and Charlotte, they being the 
 great family Geographers and they must interpret for 
 you all. Gerardine must get the map of North America 
 and now all is in order, I begin — but after all, now 
 I think better of it, I cannot squeeze into one or even 
 20 sheets of paper all I was about to tell you ; there- 
 fore for the present I will only say that I am just 
 returned from the wildest and most extraordinary tour 
 you can imagine, and am moreover the first English- 
 woman — the first European female who ever accom- 
 plished this journey. I have had such adventures and 
 seen such strange things as never yet were rehearsed 
 in prose or verse, and, for the good of the public, think- 
 ing it a shame to keep these wonders only to make 
 my own hair stand on end, I am just going to make 
 a book and print it forthwith. I went first to Niagara 
 whence I wrote to you, then to Hamilton on Lake 
 Ontario, then to Brantford Wood-stock, London, to 
 Port Talbot, where I stayed some days with the great 
 Colonel Talbot, then to Chatham on Lake St. Clair and 
 down to Detroit, then in a steam boat up the St. Clair 
 and up Lake Huron to the Island of Michilimackinac 
 in the strait leading to Michigan and there I spent 
 some days among the Chippewas and Ottawas, and 
 thence I went in an open boat with a charming Indian 
 woman and her two children to the Sault de Sainte 
 Marie (95 miles) — and had a peep into the entrance 
 of Lake Superior and thence down again in an open 
 boat to the Mantoulin Island (about 200 miles) and 
 there I met a congress of 3500 Indians — Chippewas 
 PottowoUomies, AVinebagos and Ottawas assembled to 
 
 157 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 receive the presents sent by the British Government, and 
 thence I returned in a canoe to Penetanguish'ene (about 
 250 miles) and round by Lake Simcoe to Toronto. 
 
 The people here are in great enthusiasm about me 
 and stare at me as if I had done some most wonderful 
 thing ; the most astonished of all is Mr. Jameson j 
 
 Long live the Queen ! 
 
 Anna's departure was delayed by one reason and 
 another, principally by legal business, concerning 
 her separation from her husband, which was at 
 last arranged to her satisfaction, he undertaking to 
 allow her £300 a year and to raise no objections 
 to her living apart. 
 
 According to her usual practice, she made many 
 friends whenever opportunity allowed, the chief of 
 these being Miss Sedgwick ' and Dr. Channing.^ 
 The American edition of " Characteristics of 
 Women " came out during her stay in the States, 
 and she re-dedicated it to Fanny Kemble, now Mrs. 
 Butler,3 in these words :— 
 
 " I have particular pleasure, my dearest Fanny, in 
 once more dedicating to you, by your new name in a 
 new land, this little book, which in its progress you 
 cherished and which, without you, would in all 
 probability never have been published." 
 
 Amongst her correspondence of this date are two 
 letters from Margaret Fuller begging for infor- 
 
 ' Caroline Sedgwick, 1 789-1 869. ^ Dr. Channing, 1 780-1842. 
 3 Fanny Kemble married Charles Pierce Butler in 1834. 
 
 158 
 
Rambles among the Red Men 
 
 mation concerning the Goethe family, she being 
 at that time engaged in writing the poet's Life. 
 Knowing Ottihe's sentiments on this subject, Anna 
 did not feel herself justified in helping her. 
 
 The following letter is written from Fanny 
 Butler's house. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. , 
 
 German Town, near Philadelphia, 
 
 December 6, 1837. 
 
 . . . The refusal of Otley to honour my draft 
 upon such an excuse, absolves me from the necessity 
 of returning to the.n as my publishers, if I can find 
 a better offer in ready money. Captain Marryat,' has 
 put me up to some of the publishing tricks — and shewn 
 me on paper what I ought to have. He even offered 
 to negotiate for me. He is a strange rough fellow 
 but goodnatured and 'cute enough to match even a 
 London bookseller. Keep up your spirits therefore — 
 I am not losing any time but writing away as fast as 
 I can and I shall probably make a good bargain here 
 for my next book by publishing it in this country. 
 That which does go to my heart is the delay of my 
 voyage. I am homesick to a degree I never felt before, 
 and you may fancy how strong the malady is upon 
 me when I am suffering here, though staying with 
 Fanny Butler, whose kindness and hospitality is just 
 what I could most desire. She has a comfortable 
 house fitted up in true English style — carriages and 
 horses etc. — and if it was not that I am tired out in 
 mind and pining for my home friends, I should be really 
 
 ^ Captain Marryat, 1 792-1848. 
 159 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 happy — as happy as I am busy and amused. Tell my 
 dearest Father that my occupation is a sketch of the 
 arts and artists in America, which I intend to include 
 in my book, and which I think will amuse him. I 
 have lately made a trip to Stockbridge, the beautiful 
 little village which Harriet Martineau describes in her 
 book, and where she lived with Widow Jones — thence 
 to Boston where I spent some days very usefully and 
 agreeably — was honoured by the friendship of Dr. 
 Channing — and knowing Louisa's great veneration for 
 him I brought her one of his works with his own 
 Autograph in it. Alston, one of the finest painters in 
 the world, resides at Boston and I saw much of him' ; 
 but my principal acquisition lately is the acquaintance 
 of Miss Sedgwick whose name you may have heard — 
 who wrote " Home " and who is by far the most 
 gifted and loveable person I have met on this side 
 of the Atlantic. All your details of home, dearest 
 Eliza, are not only of deep, but of vital, interest to 
 me ; particularly about dear Papa and my darling 
 Children. To-day I was giving Fanny a long account 
 of Gerardine and her sayings and doings. Fanny's 
 child is a sweet little being, full of health and spirits, 
 but so fair and cherub like and so unlike herself that, 
 as she says, she goes about like a Gypsey that had 
 stolen a child. 
 
 1 60 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LONDON ONCE MORE 
 
 In the spring of 1838, when Anna returned to 
 London, society was in a ferment with the antici- 
 pation of the Coronation festivities. Adelaide 
 Procter, the " Poppet " of earlier letters, who had 
 been born October 25, 1825, was still only twelve 
 years old ; she shows the precocity of her talent in 
 the following verses, which have been preserved 
 among the letters of that date :— 
 
 ON THE CORONATION OF QUEEN VICTORIA, 
 June 28, 1838. 
 
 Sound the cymbals. Strike the lyre, 
 Spirit of Song our words inspire I 
 With the joy befits the day 
 Which we feel but cannot say ; 
 For so young and fair a Queen 
 In old England ne'er was seen. 
 
 Old England's boast, her joy, her pride, 
 On Thee all our hopes abide. 
 With the sceptre in thine hand. 
 The Nation bows at thy command ; 
 For so young and fair a Queen 
 In old England ne'er was seen. 
 
 161 L 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 At thy word all swords shall start 
 
 From their scabbards and pierce the heart 
 
 Of their enemies or foes — 
 
 " We'll guard and keep thee from all woes " ; 
 
 For so young and fair a Queen 
 
 In old England ne'er was seen. 
 
 Adelaide Anne Procter. 
 
 Anna's friendship with Lady Byron became very 
 intimate now ; amongst her other friends the chief 
 were Mrs. Austin and Mrs. Grote. After her ex- 
 periences in Canada no doubt she enjoyed the 
 charms of London society ; it is evident that she 
 went out much, for many of her letters contain 
 pressing invitations. Amongst these are some 
 written in the minute handwriting of the Banker- 
 poet/ to whose house she must often have 
 gone :— 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jam;eson, — 
 
 Pray, pray breakfast with me on Sunday 
 morning at 9 o'clock. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 Samuel Rog{ers. 
 
 The letters from the Kembles, Macready, Ellen 
 Tree and others of the theatrical world have little 
 interest beyond their signatures . John Kemble 2 
 
 ' Samuel Rogers, 1763-185 5. 
 2 John Mitchell Kemble, 1 775-1 854. 
 162 
 
^iB*^ ^-^/i- 
 
 ji^^CUJ^ ^.^..^^^^ ^/A ^^^'^ 
 
 /^yf<^ /^-t^ ^^^*-^ 
 
 J',^...^^ ^^ 
 
 /^ '^J' — 
 
 FACSIMILE OK LKTTKR FROM SAMl'EL KlXiERS. 
 
 To face p. 16;. 
 
London once more 
 
 encloses some translations from the Spanish in one 
 of his letters, the best of which begins :— 
 
 In the shadow of thy tresses 
 
 Where they fall and flow, 
 My beloved hath sunk to slumber ; 
 
 Shall I waken him or no? 
 
 From Barry Cornwall comes the following :— 
 
 CHURCH-BELLS, HEARD AT EVENING. 
 
 O ! melancholy bells, who toll the way 
 
 To dusty death ! 
 O ! damp, green, grassy churchyard — mounds of clay, 
 
 (men say) 
 Arched inwards by g'rey bones, which once 
 
 Were moved by breath ! 
 O ! never seek I ye, when the summer day 
 
 Is past and flown ; 
 But rather do I wander far away. 
 Where'er kind voices sound, or children play, 
 
 Or love is known. 
 By some friend's quiet hearth, where gentle words 
 
 Unsought are won ; 
 'Mongst cheerful music sweet of morning birds. 
 Or list to lowings deep of distant herds 
 
 At set of sun ! 
 Where nature breathes or blossoms— sweet thoughts 
 rise — 
 
 Or rivers run — 
 Where'er Life's sunny summer spirit flies — 
 There let me be, until my spirit dies 
 
 And all is done ! 
 
 B. C. 
 163 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 This fragment of a poem by L. E. L.' was 
 apparently received in the year of her marriage, 
 followed so soon after by her tragic death in South 
 Africa :— 
 
 Thus we go on, hopes fade to fears, 
 Like fairy gold that turns to clay, 
 And pleasures darken into pain 
 And time is measured by decay. 
 First our fresh feelings are our wreath 
 They pass and leave a void behind ; 
 Then comes ambition with its dreams 
 That madden and pollute the mind. 
 We loathe the present, and we dread 
 To think on what to come may be. 
 We look back on the past and trace 
 A thousand wrecks, a troubled sea. 
 There is a hope beyond the grave. 
 On which the weary one may dwell ; 
 Oh mercy, but for that blest hope 
 Our life were a foretaste of hell. 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 Of the quantities of letters that came from Lady 
 Byron only two remain and these were written long 
 after this date ; all the earlier letters were evidently 
 destroyed when the unhappy quarrel in 1852 
 severed their long friendship. So much has been 
 written about this enigmatical woman that it seems 
 unnecessary to add more here, except that x^nna 
 
 ^ Letitia Elizabeth Landon, 1802-1838. 
 164 
 
London once more 
 
 Jameson conceived for her a passionate attachment. 
 It was different to that which she felt for Ottilie 
 inasmuch as she had an immense respect for Lady 
 Byron's character and conduct ; instead of mother- 
 ing her and trying to keep her straight, as she had 
 done with the other, she was more inclined to look 
 on her as a pattern and model for all to copy. As 
 the years went on, Anna sacrificed others on this 
 shrine ; even so steady and attached a friend as 
 Mrs. Grote was conscious of this fact and has 
 recorded it in writing. 
 
 Lady Byron, like Anna herself, and like so many 
 other intellectual women of the day, was deeply 
 interested in social schemes and especially in the 
 advancement of women workers. 
 
 A line from Edward Trelawney shows the interest 
 he took in the movement :— 
 
 Putney Hill, 
 
 July 2, 1838. 
 
 We are living in a Cockney Villa a sort of 
 cockney life— occasionally coming into town. Why do 
 you not hoist your flag of independence and come to 
 us? you will be received triumphantly and will find 
 nothing but good men and true. We are earnestly 
 at work on a work whose theme is divine, the ' Wrongs 
 of Women ' which we have the audacity to imagine 
 we can lighten, if not aid in setting to rights. You 
 could and should lend us a hand. 
 
 Very truly 
 
 Ed. Trelawney, 
 16s 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Mrs. Austin/ so well known owing to her trans- 
 lations from the German and other literary work, 
 wrote the characteristic letter given below in a 
 pessimistic vein : — 
 
 Sarah Austin to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Wednesday night. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 ... I am deUghted to hear that your little 
 books are to be reprinted. ' I do not recollect any sug- 
 gestions I can offer, & I have them not before me to 
 refresh my memory. I think I take a stronger view 
 of the prevalent neglect of private, in the pursuit of 
 pubhc duties than you do. I see plenty of women's 
 duties tt/zperformed in almost every house I go into 
 & what is worse, I see those duties more & more 
 ignored. Where are the young ladies or even the 
 girls in middle life, who are competent or willing to 
 go to market, to direct the management of food, to 
 judge of quantity & quality of the various articles of 
 domestic consumption ; to know how every thing in 
 the house is cleaned, repaired, kept in order ; to cut 
 out & make clothes ; to direct the washing, to wash & 
 iron fine linen, lace, &c.? Where are the wives even 
 who know & do these things? All of wh. we were 
 taught to do, & made to do, & I don't think we are 
 more ignorant & unlearned than our neighbours. 
 
 Also, why are our ladies running about after people 
 to instruct, reclaim, &c. &c. while they remain in total 
 ignorance of what passes under their own roofs? Why 
 do they not exercise that continual vigilance wh. would 
 
 ' Sarah Austin, n^e Taylor, 1793-1867. 
 166 
 
London once more 
 
 preserve thousands of girls from temptation to dis- 
 honesty & to vice? I certainly see a great falling 
 off, not only in the execution, but in the conception, 
 of these duties. I see clergymen's wives tramping from 
 cottage to cottage & their maids lolling & leaning at 
 their gates. Surely our grandmother's views of duty 
 were saner ; each tended her own flock. It is true that 
 this does not apply to single women, who have neither 
 house nor family, but many even of them wd be far 
 better off, if they were less helpless & better managers. 
 I am continually hearing of the helplessness of 
 governesses about their clothes — how ill they buy, what 
 they pay for mending &c. 
 
 I should be more zealous about finding women other 
 channels & modes of usefulness, if I could see any thing 
 approaching to a performance of what lies strait before 
 us, and which we seem to me to be in great danger of 
 overlooking, because it is obscure. 
 
 Have you seen an article on Woman in the last 
 No. of the National Review? I agree with a great 
 deal of it. I believe it is written by a young man of 
 small income ; & all such now feel the insurmountable 
 difficulty of marrying wives who are not qualified for 
 the humble & laborious duties of such a station ; this 
 is one fruitful source of celibacy. 
 
 Have you read Miss Shirreff's ' last book? There 
 are excellent things in that, in quite a different direc- 
 tion, but no less wholesome & true. I keep up my 
 correspondence with the interesting & charming creature 
 you introduced me to, who is bestowing all her fine 
 qualities & exertions on the factory girls of Birming- 
 ham ; offering them a clean & comfortable home, the 
 
 ' Emily Shirriff, 1814-1897. 
 167 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 decencies of life, maternal care & kindness, & many 
 other excellent things — for wh. they have not the 
 slightest taste or desire. What they like & will have 
 is liberty, liberty to be rude & filthy, to eat garbage, 
 to dress in tawdry rags, to pig together & to live dis- 
 solutely. It goes to my heart to think of that charm- 
 ing, gifted creature bestowing her life so — 
 
 Well, the clock strikes ten, dear friend, & I must to 
 bed. 
 
 All this business of women's work seems to me in 
 a strange state & quite out of joint. They cannot 
 & will not do their own work, & they want to do other 
 people's. Why is this? And it is true of all classes. 
 
 Once more Goodnight & believe me with the truest 
 affection & esteem 
 
 yrs 
 
 S. Austin. 
 
 Harriet Alartineau ' to Anna Jameson. 
 
 28, Eldon Square, 
 
 Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 
 
 December \\th. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 . . . My brother James met the Sedgwicks 
 on board the Antwerp packet in July, when he was on 
 the way to bring me home, — very ill as I then was. 
 He was by no means sure of finding me alive and, of 
 course, could not but communicate some of his anxiety 
 to Catherine. He promised to write her an account of 
 me, but the address she gave him was at a non-existent 
 place in Nassau — a mistake altogether about the name. 
 
 ' Harnet Martineau, 1 802-1 876. 
 168 
 
London once more 
 
 He and I have often since been uneasy at being unable 
 to write to her. Can you tell her, with my love, that 
 we have not forgotten her and give her the following 
 account of me? It will greatly relieve my mind if you 
 can. My complaint involves no danger to life, but 
 it cannot be surmounted without very great suffering 
 and it is as likely to be years as weeks before the crisis 
 comes. For the present, I am under the care of my 
 excellent brother-in-law, Mr. Greenhow, an eminent 
 surgeon here. I do not suffer much and I enjoy a 
 great deal, — on my sofa. I do not attempt to go out, 
 or to see people, but am very happy in the midst of 
 one of the most loveable families in the world. My 
 sister and my precious niece Fanny, (as dear to me 
 as Kitty to Catherine) and the little boys, are enough 
 for a life time to any reasonable person ; and then 
 there is the kind care and the valuable friendship of 
 my brother-in-law, so that I may well wait in patience 
 and thankfulness for the issue of my illness. Work 
 is out of the question, of course. I have a book in 
 my head and heart ; but when I may be able to 
 write it, no one can say. Let me beg you and Catherine 
 to have no uneasy thoughts about me. You know, and 
 I feel, what are the benefits of such a pause in life 
 as is now appointed to me and I trust you to be as 
 well content with the appointment as I am. Having 
 to say something of myself, it was right, (was it not?) 
 to say thus much. 
 
 I often, very often, think of you and your doings, 
 and always with pleasure and fresh heartening. 
 
 God bless and prosper you ! 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 H. Martineau. 
 169 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 In December, 1838, Anna paid some visits ; she 
 intended to go to Miss Mitford,' but a fragment of 
 a letter shows why she was put off. 
 
 Aiary Russell Mitford to Anna Jameson {unsigned) . 
 
 Reading, 
 
 December 20, 1838. 
 
 Heaven bless you. Forgive this scrawl. I have 
 not had my clothes off (except to change them) for 
 a fortnight, and have more to do in packing and writing 
 and a hundred odd matters than can well be imagined ; 
 but I have stood it bravely and if it please God to 
 restore my dear father. . . . 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 LovELL Hill, 
 (Postmark 1838.) 
 
 My dearest Charlotte,— 
 
 Thank you for the letter dictated by dear father 
 and the additions from yourself ; it gave me real 
 pleasure. Papa's approbation is expressed with as 
 much elegance as affection. Mrs. Procter writes me 
 that the book is universally relished and says " a fig 
 for reviewers ! " The men, she says, are much alarmed 
 by certain speculations about women and she adds 
 " well they may, for when the horse and ass begin 
 to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving." Her 
 letter is very amusing and comical. I was going to 
 Miss Mitford last week but had an express to say 
 her father is seized with sudden and dangerous illness. 
 I am afraid the good old man (who is 78) will certainly 
 
 ' Mary Russell Mitford, 1 787-1855. 
 170 
 
London once more 
 
 die and as she has been his sole companion and support 
 for years, I am very sorry for her. 
 
 Sarah Austin to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Cranford Cottage, Richmond, 
 
 April IS, 1839 
 
 I can hardly say I am ashamed, my dearest friend, 
 but am sorry, truly sorry, that I have not written 
 to you in answer to your kind letter. You will under- 
 stand it all — a demenagement, my husband more and 
 more sick in mind & body, people flocking round me 
 because I was going, business to be concluded, Ranke 
 to be kept going- -last not least new pangs of maternity 
 in the shape of a serious love affair of my poor child's 
 already ! ' Well it must come, so you say, like death 
 & it is come and there is but one objection to her 
 very charming & lovable suitor ; want of money, com- 
 bined with a title & rich & fashionable connexions which 
 greatly aggravates the evil. Even now it is ostensibly 
 not settled, but their own hearts have settled it & as 
 he is 28 and as good as he is handsome & sweet 
 tempered & singlehearted, / have not the heart to 
 oppose it. I have placed before them in the strongest 
 light the evils they are going to brave, & after that 
 I think 1 have done my duty ; 1 know what your 
 feeling will be. Pray don't hint at this to anyone, as 
 Europe's now one vast mart of news & gossip. We 
 shall talk it over. Meantime the dear child is going 
 to Hastings for a few weeks. 
 
 Every pretty cottage that I see with an affiche, I 
 call out " that will do for Mrs. Jameson " — so entirely 
 
 ' Lucy Austin married Sir Alexander Duff Gordon, 1840. 
 
 171 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 have I settled it that you come here. Seriously, dear, you 
 cannot do better. It is accessible. We shall have the 
 Berrys & Lady Charlotte Lindsay for neighbours & 
 the Hortons, as you know, & this is enough. I am very 
 hard at work on Ranke wh. at length is going on 
 steadily and tolerably quietly. I rather enjoy my soh- 
 tude, which is at present complete — & my hard work. 
 The great evil & burthen of my life, my husband's 
 bad health & worse spirits, continues & in this seclusion 
 I should sink, if it were not for daily labour so falsely 
 called the primal curse. Wben do you return? Mr. 
 Duer is here, as affectionate as ever. H. Martineau's 
 novel is out. I hear it called dull. 1 dare say it is to 
 pampered novel readers. ... At the moment I write 
 the debate is going on which is to decide the fate of the 
 Ministry. It is thought they will not go out yet. I 
 am grown indifferent to these things. Governments 
 cannot or will not touch the great ulcers at the heart of 
 society, and all the rest is but skin deep work. God 
 bless you dearest friend. 
 
 Your ever faithful, 
 
 L. Austin. 
 
 Henry Reeve, a nephew of Mrs. Austin, was 
 another firm friend at this period. He was then 
 on the staff of the Times, and was living in Chapel 
 Street with Henry Chorley,' a contributor to the 
 AthencEum, and an authority on music. A 
 thorough cosmopolitan, it was to Reeve that Anna 
 owed some of the introductions to literary people 
 in other lands. 
 
 ' Henry Chorley, 1808-1872. 
 172 
 
London once more 
 
 Henry Reeve ' to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Deelham, Rookery Cottage, 
 
 September lo, 1839. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Your kind note has reached me under an avenue 
 of tall trees, peopled with rooks : and I, like them, sit 
 cawing m the last breezes of our short summer. If I 
 had not devoted my sick London fortnight to the com- 
 pletion of two little literary tasks which I had much 
 at heart — (the one was my maiden onslaught on the 
 Slave Trade,) I should have challenged your kindness 
 in my hours of confinement, but I was determined to 
 burn the taper on a save-all ; and I corrected my 
 proofs before I ran away. Here I am surrounded by the 
 simplicity and ease of a country life and by what is not 
 less unruffled, the kinsmanly regard of my own relations, 
 dwellers wholly in the country : and I hope, before I 
 return to my harness, I shall be quite strong again. 
 On Thursday I go to Lowestoft to join my mother ; & 
 we shall proceed to Norwich together — ■! wish indeed 
 it were to meet you there, as I hope we shall meet 
 Mrs. Austin. 
 
 I shall write to Chorley to-day to tell him of your 
 kindness in mentioning — to Miss Tree. I hope 
 they will bring out your play. 
 
 Adieu. Believe me always faithfully yours 
 
 Henry Reeve. 
 
 The most lively of Anna's correspondents is un- 
 questionably Mrs. Grote,2 the wife of the historian. 
 
 ' Henry Reeve, 1813-1895. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Grote (Harriet Lewin), 1 792-1878. 
 
 173 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 'We can trace, in her letters, the whole history of 
 Fanny Ellsler,' the dancer, famous even in the age 
 that saw Taglioni ; we become acquainted with her 
 whims and vagaries, and can but sympathize with 
 the well-meaning woman whose efforts to steer her 
 protegee's frail craft through troubled waters was 
 not an easy task. 
 
 Harriet Grote to Anna Jameson. 
 
 B. Beeches, 
 Tuesday, September 15, 1839. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Two days of hurry skurry in London and house- 
 holdry, two days of severe headaches here, on my 
 return ; three days of hospitality to our French friends ; 
 (who left us this forenoon). There is my history for 
 the last week. M. de la Valette occupied many hours 
 of my restricted time during the two days of the week 
 previous I passed in town (Friday and Sat., the 4th. 
 and 5th.) and subsequently prevailed on Geo. to bring 
 him down to B. Beeches last Monday ! He was so 
 earnestly intent upon procuring the aid of my exhorta- 
 tions upon Mdlle. Elssler, that he could not rest without 
 bringing me her letters, which he had that day received, 
 forwarded from Paris, to prove to me how imminent the 
 case was. 
 
 I went up to town the next morning, Tuesday, for 
 the express purpose of receiving M. le D. de Beauffre- 
 mont and his son who came up from Berks : M. and 
 Mad. Mallet, of Paris, also called and settled to come 
 to us last Thursday ; but one of my terrible acces 
 ' Fanny EUsler, 1810-1884. 
 174 
 
London once more 
 
 coming on, I was forced to adjourn their visit to vSunday 
 and in the interim suffered grievously. 
 
 Our day's pleasure yesterday was woefully ruined by 
 the continual rain, nevertheless we went to Dropmore 
 and spent nearly two hours, with umbrellas and wet 
 feet, in those Elysian gardens. This cottage was 
 crammed, as you may conceive when I tell you we 
 actually made room for six guests, who, with ourselves 
 and six servants, all slept herein I We are expecting 
 Professor Thommesel and the De Beauffremonts. At 
 the end of this month we are going to visit the Dean 
 of Durham at his charming Rectory in the neighbour- 
 hood of Ripon, ere he quits it for ever, a sort of duty 
 we owe to our estimable and loving friend ; and in the 
 beginning of November we shall go to Pencarrow for a 
 fortnight. As to my plague and torment, the lovely 
 Danseuse 1 whether she will be influenced by my ex- 
 hortatory epistles, or be deaf to all save the charms 
 of Plutus, I have no idea. If she come by Br. Queen, 
 she will arrive on, or about, Oct. 15th., and I shall 
 see her for a day or two and then — yes, and then — a 
 long farewell I I have warned M. de la V. that it will 
 be impossible for me to receive F. and him under my 
 roof together, so that if he comes over to receive her 
 we shall have to share her society between us for the 
 few days she passes in England. Should the Br. Queen 
 return without F. E., M. de la V. has apprized her 
 that he intends sailing in the Gr. W. on Nov. ist. (or 
 Br. Queen, I forget which) to New York for the purpose 
 of fetching her to Europe. A mess, you see, is cook- 
 ing of the first quality. Lavalette, being well-nigh 
 frantic, sees nothing but the danger of losing his 
 mistress, and will imperil his whole " avenir " to re- 
 
 175 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 acquire his prize. I lament that Murray should still 
 keep you in suspense, but you seem in "a cleft stick," 
 and must submit. Keep up your courage, however, my 
 dear friend, and work at your present task so as to do 
 you credit and Murray must " come to book " methinks. 
 I will readily lend you £ioo on a pinch, upon the 
 security of his bill, tho' this is not very marketable, 
 I fear. Write me your doings and believe me, dear 
 Mrs. Jameson, most sincerely yours, 
 
 H. Grote. 
 
 Rue de Rivoli 22 Ter, 
 {au second), 
 
 November 20, 1839. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I am afraid lest your visit to Paris takes place 
 too late for me to derive any profit from it, since I 
 already know by experience that your position on the 
 terrestrial globe is not to be predicted in the same 
 way that the position of the celestial bodies is. Accord- 
 ingly I write to you to beg, i . that you will scribble 
 me a few lines saying what you think will be your 
 plans for the next six weeks, and that you will lend me 
 your assistance to carry out my views of being service- 
 able to our Pet, F. E., whose welfare I have steadily 
 at heart, and not less so since I have had further oppor- 
 tunities of conversing with and observing her. . . . 
 I am getting a little " endways " in Fanny's good 
 graces, and flatter myself she is becoming more dis- 
 posed to unfold herself to me, but you cannot think how 
 reserved I found her at first, and how ticklish a game 
 I have found it to push our conversation farther than 
 the neutral topics on which people, not on intimate 
 
 176 
 
London once more 
 
 terms, commonly discourse. However, I consider 
 myself now " en bon train," but as my stay here will 
 be only a short one, (say till the i8 or 20 Deer.) I 
 want you to aid me in forming' a sort of plan (which I 
 may lay before her also) for her to be made more 
 happy and comfortable in America during the visit 
 she has covenanted to pay them there in the spring. 
 I shall strain all my little " canvass " to reach this 
 object, and shall, for her, incur, or at least consent to 
 incur, personal obligations to such of my American 
 acquaintance as will hold out the hand of sympathy and 
 good feeling to this gifted member of a debased pro- 
 fession, on her arrival at New York. . . . Now will 
 you ask Fanny Butler and C. Sedgwick to take notice 
 of her? Or are there any others you think you could 
 influence favourably? ... If you come to Paris before 
 I go, (which I devoutly desire) we can devise better, 
 together, our means than asunder, wherefore I pray you 
 to try " to wind up your ends " and trot off to the 
 Tower to embark your dear self for the port of 
 Boulogne. We have only seen F. dance twice since 
 we came. She never appears more than once a week, 
 and seems to be in the highest possible favour at the 
 " Academic ! " Last night, (I resume since yester- 
 
 day, this letter) we saw her in the " Tarantule." I never 
 admired her more, soit pantomime, soit dance— Farther- 
 more I laughed to excess, as did my two female com- 
 panions. Mad'"" Comte & Mad. Wizley whom I took 
 with me. As for W. G. he was so absorbed in his 
 divinity that he could not laugh, but his attention was 
 rivetted to her during every scena. 
 
 He pays her the most charming compliments, some 
 of them even extravagant, which she receives with an 
 
 177 M 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 entire calmness and indifference of manner, as tho' 
 she were so used to incense that it made no sort of im- 
 pression upon her ! He says he does not care for that, 
 as he only utters them to "let off " the current of his 
 own admiration, & not to ingratiate himself with her, 
 which / believe to a certain degree. Paris is full, 
 & we have nothing but English in this house, excepting 
 au quatrieme, (in the roof) where M. Alex. Dumas ' has 
 his gite. Lord S. T. Cadogan & girls are " au premier," 
 Lady Westmeath & Lady E. Dawson entresol — Lady 
 Airy au troisieme ; we look over the Tuileries gardens, 
 & have a charming light & airy lodging— my own maid, 
 English servant, & french " Domestique de Place " as 
 steward, &c^'^' and our own Carriage in w we travelled 
 from London. I only lack health ! but that alas ! I 
 must do without, for the few years I am destined to pass 
 on this planet. 
 
 Pray write to me at this address Rue de Rivoli and 
 believe me, with sincere regards, dear Mrs. Jameson, 
 faithfully yours, 
 
 H. Grote. 
 
 Henry Reeve to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Isle of Wight, 
 
 January 21, 1840. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Nothing could give me greater pleasure than 
 the receipt of your letter. I got your note (without 
 date) containing two shillings (for I know not what 
 supposed debt) on Saturday ; & I was on the point of 
 writing to Miss Murphy to enquire where you were to 
 
 be found. 
 
 ' Alexandre Dumas, 1 802-1 870. 
 178 
 
London once more 
 
 I hope that I shall be able to obtain a French 
 Passport for you, without your personal attendance. 
 If not, the shortest way would be for you to get 
 one from the French Consul at Dover ; and then apply 
 at the Embassy at Paris for another, which you wd. 
 have vise'd for Paris by the several Ambassadors 
 there. 
 
 I shall have great pleasure in giving you letters. 
 At Paris you will find Madme. Faucher, whom you 
 very hospitably received in 1838 ; & John Simpson, a 
 connection of mine who will be entirely at your dis- 
 posal. At Marseilles you will have a home — if you 
 please, at the Philip Taylors' : and at Milan I shall 
 be happy to address you to the Marquise d'Azeglio, a 
 relation of Manzoni's who is one of the most beautiful 
 & amiable of women. At the other places I have no 
 acquaintances. 
 
 I say this, however, with some heaviness of heart, 
 because I cannot afford to lose you for so long a 
 rambling. Before you left us for America, I had not 
 had so much cause to miss you : but now, you know, 
 that on very many of the subjects which I love to 
 dwell on best, I am more sure of your sympathy in 
 taste & purpose than of that of any one else — ^with 
 one or two exceptions ; and with them the sympathy 
 is not more sure, but only more easily come at. An 
 omnibus passes their door, or they live in the next 
 street— for our sympathies are alas ! in cruel bondage 
 to the Directory : & now you are going to wander out 
 of the Directory altogether. I could hurl the Blue Book 
 after you. Of news I have Httle to give. 
 
 They talk of nothing but Breach of Privilege, or 
 the Penny Postage. The latter is growing whimsi- 
 
 179 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 cally unpopular : and people are wretched at not having 
 the opportunity of acquitting themselves handsomely 
 to the Tax-Collector. The increase of letters has 
 not been very much below what was anticipated, and 
 there is good reason to apprehend that the plan 
 cannot last. 
 
 In Paris, to return to your travels, you had better 
 go to the Hotel Canterbury. No. 22 or 24. Rue de la 
 Paix. If you arrive before the ist of February you 
 will find Chorley still there. My Mother took up her 
 quarters there, when she was at Paris alone in 1837. 
 The people are very civil, & it is not dear. Would you 
 like letters also to Madm. de Marliani, a friend of 
 George Sand's, & a singularly clever woman : & to 
 Madme. de Tocqueville, an Englishwoman : I only 
 suggest these persons in case you wish to see some 
 society. 
 
 The Queen looked pale when she went down to 
 the House. Next week, the Debate on the Vote of 
 want of confidence in Ministers, will decide the long- 
 drawn battle between the parties. The Ministerialists 
 anticipate a victory : I am not sure the Ministers do 
 the same. But the battle will be fairly fought, and 
 either result is preferable to the present position of 
 men & things. To the Queen all this is matter of 
 intense anxiety, & it perhaps diminishes the anxiety 
 which other young ladies are wont to feel, the week 
 before their marriage day. But if I may guess at 
 what passes in that exalted breast, the agitation of 
 political passion and of all its public cares will be 
 rather soothed & softened by the mingling current of 
 private anxieties and affectionate sympathies. God bless 
 her ! In that faith I shall die. 
 
 180 
 
London once more 
 
 Did you ever see the volume of Prince Albert's 
 Poems? I should like very much to get hold of it. 
 They are to give him £50,000 a year for his life. 
 
 Many thanks for your promised gift of the Plays 
 — they will be charming volumes, I know. 
 Adieu . 
 
 Yrs faithfully 
 
 Henry Reeve. 
 
 P.S. Would you have any objection to communi- 
 cate a Uttle aufsatz — a page from your Journal or what 
 you will, to the Keepsake for next year. If you will 
 the sooner we have it the better. 
 
 181 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A FAIR DANCER 
 
 Fanny ElsSLER came over to England in the 
 spring of 1840, and was taken under the wing 
 of Mrs. Grote, who appears to have looked after 
 her child, who was at school in England. She 
 excited great admiration in London, one of her 
 admirers being Adelaide Procter, now fourteen 
 years and a half old. 
 
 TO FANNY ELSSLER. 
 
 Like the waves when leaping 
 
 Gaily in their mirth, 
 Sunny daughter of the skies. 
 
 Wonder of the earth ! 
 
 Like some too, too happy thought 
 
 For this earth unfit, 
 Full of grace and beauty, 
 
 Love and light and wit. 
 
 Like the foam born goddess 
 
 In Cythera's Isle, 
 Thou dost govern nations 
 
 By thy own sweet smile. 
 182 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 Like some dream or fancy 
 
 Floating once in air, 
 Thou comest down embodied 
 Beauty ! bright and rare. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 March 1840. 
 
 Mrs. Montagu to Anna Jameson. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 It is hard that I, who go out so seldom should be 
 deprived of the pleasure of meeting you to-morrow ! 
 but, should the day be tolerable, I am bound to dine 
 with Anne Procter and her Children — at two o'clock, and 
 she brings me into town in the evening. 
 
 I am not, as you know, given to making new 
 acquaintances or seeking new friends, but I should very 
 much like to know Mrs. Grote, and when she next 
 goes to St. John's Wood I shall try to meet her there. 
 There is something so magnanimous in her support 
 of Fanny Elssler, and so truly Christian, whatever the 
 Pharisees might say, that I really love her. 
 
 Fix any other day, dear Mrs. Jameson, and take 
 your Luncheon with me, and excuse a scrawl written 
 in the midst of interruption and those household cares, 
 which called away even Desdemona, in despite of her 
 gentle pity, and the fascinations of Othello. 
 Your affectionate friend 
 
 Anne D. B. Montagu. 
 
 Public opinion was not unanimous as to Mrs. 
 Grote's championship of the dancer. Mrs. Montagu 
 
 183 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 and the Procters approved ; Anna, oddly enough, 
 considering the support she had given to Ottilie, 
 did not. She declined to meet her at Mrs. Grote's 
 house, while offering to help her privately in any 
 way she could. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 You will do as you like about to-morrow, but 
 I shall be sorry if you miss my nice music, which is 
 like to be rather superior. F.i will, I hope, be here. 
 I have about 1 5 people asked, among whom 4 or 5 
 of our sex. Do entirely as you like. I was at Opera 
 last evening and kept a place for you to the last 
 moment ! F's dancing was the most ravishing perhaps, 
 I ever saw, of its kind. But she was very tamely 
 applauded, the Opera had effectively benumbed the 
 audience. 
 In haste. 
 
 Yours affectionately 
 
 H. Grote. 
 29 Mar. 
 Staid at home. 
 
 A. J. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I will keep a place for you in my box for 
 Thursday, not meaning to crowd it; I mil leave a 
 ticket for you at Fortnum & Mason's, Piccadilly; is 
 not that the best way? To-morrow Fanny dines here 
 and her sister; no women coming except Mrs. Procter, 
 who eagerly accepted the offer to meet her here to- 
 
 ' Fanny Elssler. 
 184 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 day, when she called upon me. I don't ask you, for 
 the same reasons as before. But as this is her last 
 week, perhaps you will cheer her with a call one morn- 
 ing. ... I am unusually depressed in consequence of 
 Fanny's shortcomings ; these two days have been days 
 of intense mortification, and I feel the curse of having 
 too large a soul and too soft a heart. More anon — you 
 will come home on Thursday to sleep and we will talk 
 on the morrow. I hardly say I hope your Father is 
 better; but I wish whatever will work best for you 
 and those you belong to. Ever affectionately, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 H. Grote. 
 Tuesday night. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 My good man and I are going to retire to 
 Bumham on Thursday, for 4 days, returning on Monday 
 next. I long to see you, however, before I go, and 
 must try for it to-morrow. If I fail, pray dine here 
 Wed. 22nd. You had better sleep here, if my bed 
 is vacant, after Chorley's party on the 21st. eh? I 
 am dead beat to-night, and can say no more than 
 that I rose at half past 7 to-day to go and help F. 
 to start, and well I did, else had she infallibly lost the 
 train, owing to the idiotic proscrastination of Kate 
 who left her packing to the last moment. G. and I 
 took F. to the station and then I gave them the 
 slip, sans repeating the painful solace of saying fare- 
 well, and wending my sad way back to Eccleston 
 Street. 
 
 Mad. Elssler and she were drowned in grief at part- 
 ing, G. said; I have had this latter with me ever 
 
 185 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 since, and at lo p.m. Geo. himself took her iii our 
 carriage to the steamer off the Tower ! There's friend- 
 ship for you, Ma'am ! 
 
 I was dressed to go to Mr. Ella's quartette party 
 to-night, but my heart is too full and I can't encounter 
 society under my present depression. I rejoice to say 
 that we all parted with the most undimmed affection, 
 and that neither Geo. nor I now entertain the slightest 
 doubt of Fanny's capability to feel the strongest emo- 
 tions of love and gratitude. God prosper her honest 
 efforts ! I witnessed the parting between Fanny and 
 her angelic child yesterday and never shall I forget 
 it ! It was worthy of a Raphaelle, and, as to the moral 
 part of it, I was ready to burn with admiration ! F. 
 was very much overcome. We went to-day (I and 
 Mad. Elssler) to see it again and I think I will take 
 it to B. for a little air after its measles. 
 
 Goodnight my tender friend ! your sympathy is truly 
 delightful and consoles me for cherishing such a plague 
 within me as a susceptible heart ! 
 
 Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 H. G. 
 i/^th April, 
 
 ^ past 1 1 p.m. 
 
 G. not returned yet. 
 
 In August Anna went with Mrs. Grote for a 
 
 driving tour, during which they visited Wilton, 
 
 where they were hospitably received by Lady 
 
 Pembroke. Anna was then engaged on her 
 
 " Handbook to the Private Galleries of London," 
 
 and was more than ever interested in studying. works 
 
 1 86 
 
,?«*'- 
 
 ^^J^" 
 
 SIR EDWIN LAXDSEER, K.A. 
 Alter a sketch by Sir J. Hayter, R.A. 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 of art. Writing from Exeter to her family, she 
 says that at Taunton — 
 
 "... a most kind and pressing invitation awaited 
 me from Sydney Smith ' to go on to them with Mrs. 
 Grote, which was far too pleasant to be refused; so 
 I went on to the most beautiful ideal of a parsonage I 
 ever beheld, at the head of a valley among rising hills, 
 the grounds and garden on a small scale but laid 
 out with the greatest taste. My reception was delight- 
 ful and next day I returned to Taunton in their Phseton 
 with Mrs. Smith, deposited myself in the Exeter Coach, 
 and came on in three hours to Exeter. ... I shall 
 remain here till Saturday or Monday, then join Mrs. 
 Grote again at Taunton and we shall proceed home- 
 wards — you may look for me I think about next 
 Wednesday. . . . 
 
 After parting from Mrs. Grote Anna received 
 constant letters from her, full of her anxieties about 
 the perfidious Fanny Elssler, who had broken her 
 engagement in Paris and was now in America. 
 
 Harriet Grote to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Masham, North Riding of Yorkshire. 
 
 October 3, 1840. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I reed, your kind note of enquiry duly forwarded 
 to me hither, at the Dean of Durham's, where I think 
 I told you we should be at this season pursuant to 
 agreement. We shall be in Eccleston St. for i, or 
 at most, 2 nights, on Sunday next, by rail road from 
 
 ' Sydney Smith, 1771-1545. 
 187 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Birmingham; and the middle of the week will, I hope, 
 see me at Burnham Beeches for a fortnight, & happy 
 to receive you there if still at Windsor. I have been 
 harassed about Fanny Elssler; Lavalette been down 
 to B. Beeches, & long letters between us since. The 
 Devil to pay about her folly in breaking engagement, 
 but he has got the favour of a prolongation to Deer, 
 so as to allow of his going to fetch her between this 
 & then, should she prove still recalcitrant. Meanwhile 
 / firmly expect her by British Queen on the i 5 or 16 
 of Oct. I wrote so earnest a remonstrance that I am 
 disposed to think she will come, malgre the dictates 
 of pecuniary interest. Lavalette wrote her the most 
 imploring ardent letter possible, & warned her he should 
 go over in Nov. if she did not come by October ship. 
 The country round is delightful, and the steep abrupt 
 and rocky banks above the Yure, clothed with wood, 
 and parks adjacent, render the scenery picturesque as 
 heart could wish. The Yure is a fine stream as broad 
 as the Thames at Windsor, but brawling and rapid, 
 tumbling over blocks of stone and roaring most 
 luUingly at a distance. . . . 
 
 Ever yrs. affectely. 
 
 H. Grote. 
 
 B. B., 
 
 October i^th, II p.m. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Letters from Wihoff and Sumner, from Boston, 
 of I Oct. as well as from Charles our servant, (attached 
 to F. E. pro. tem.) inform me this day of her resolute 
 determination to proceed to the Havannah I malgre all 
 the protestations of the Marquis, his menaces of going 
 over to fetch her, and Mr. Grote's and my earnest 
 
 188 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 recommendations to her to return and keep her engage- 
 ments at Paris. I have scarcely been well enough to 
 write since I returned hither, which was later than I 
 wrote you I intended, on account of my sufferings in 
 the beginning of this week, which were deplorable, else 
 I should have communicated to you some notion of 
 what has been transacting in reference to Elssler's Paris 
 affairs. Lavalette returned to London last Sunday, 
 bringing the note from Thuss to Guizot and passed 
 Monday evening in Eccleston St. He has signed a 
 bond to pay 60,000 francs in case F. E. does not 
 return the end of December and either he or Therese, 
 whose guarantee is also given, must pay the same if 
 pressed by M. Pillet and M. Duponchel. This step 
 was adopted by L. to stave off the action for damages, 
 which the Directors were on the point of instituting 
 against the truant Danseuse, in conformity with the 
 duty they owe the abonnes and shareholders at large. 
 There never was such a romance as this whole affair 
 has been, and our present relations with M. de la V. 
 are truly remarkable I Conceive my being converted 
 into a recipient of his griefs and miseries and " con- 
 fidences " / who have frankly told him from the be- 
 ginning that I never would encourage F. to marry him, 
 or even to continue to be his " aimee,'' because I 
 thought him unworthy of her esteem I He has forgiven 
 me everything, it would seem, because he finds I am 
 just, and now, I must own, he has some ground for 
 considering himself unkindly used, to say the least of 
 it. I hardly dare chalk out the probable issue of this 
 ravelled history, but my impression is that F. designs 
 to disenthrall herself from her connection with the 
 Marquis, and that her experience of gentlemen of high 
 
 189 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 honour and generous impulses, obtained within the last 
 12 months, (since she was taken up by us) has opened 
 her eyes to the defects of his character, and lessened 
 her affection accordingly. He must give up going over, 
 for she is off to Cuba, and thence to N. Orleans (Wihoff 
 in attendance). Therese had reckoned on going, in 
 case L. could not, but, one would be as hopeless a case 
 as the other. Sumners letter is delightful, and full of 
 valuable details to me, for neither F. nor Wihoff are 
 good at facts. The Br. Queen is not yet in, but I 
 expect no letters by her. These came by the Boston 
 vessel ; none is come from F. herself. I need not say 
 that we are extremely vexed about all this and Mr. 
 Grote begins to be somewhat weary of such a profitless 
 warfare as that of inspiring a sense of obligation in 
 American bosoms. F. now takes Wihoft's views of 
 right and wrong, and those are apparently genuine 
 American, which means " I'Argent avant tout." / shall 
 take no more trouble about the matter, having toiled 
 and striven to guide her with honour and credit, sans 
 succes. She must now shift for herself, and with her 
 £16,000 or £18,000 she will marry very well no doubt 
 one of these days. She has sunk in my estimation by 
 this fatal resolve, and in G's still lower, and God knows 
 if he will ever again become much interested about 
 her, so inseparable is his attachment to honour and 
 good faith ! I should very much like to see you, and 
 shew you Sumner's letter, and perhaps can manage 
 it the end of next week, about Friday, in town, as I 
 think of going up to see a homeopathic Dr. ! " drown- 
 ing men " etc. God bless you, dear Mrs. Jameson. 
 Believe me always yours most truly 
 
 H. Grote. 
 190 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 B. B., 
 
 October 19, 1840. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I feel so exhausted by the effort of writing to 
 the Dean of Durham, behig the ist day I have found 
 myself able to write since my return, & to Mrs. Butler, 
 that, to save my eyes, & energies generally, I send the 
 letter to Mrs. B. for you to run over (& forward after- 
 wards) by which you will be somewhat " au fait " of 
 matters relating to that tiresome girl, F. Elssler. 
 
 I cannot, however, convey to you any idea of the 
 doubts & uncomfortable presages which her recent con- 
 duct has generated in both Mr. G. & myself. How 
 she could go on writing in the warmest strain of passion 
 to M. de la V., & of him, to me, in steady terms of 
 attachment, & yet refuse to listen to his counsels, his 
 prayers, his adjurations to return, accompd. by his 
 assurance that her intimacy with Wihoft was insupport- 
 able, and that if she continued to travel with him in 
 his carriage & to live in same appartnt. etc., he wd. 
 come over & fight him, (for all Paris is laughing at 
 him, & W^s mistress at Paris screaming that F. has 
 robbed her of her lover) in spite of all this, oft' she 
 goes to the Havannah, with said Wihoff ; (who, writing 
 to me date 30 Sept. does not tell me he is going with 
 her) she writing never a word to me by this packet; 
 I can't dive into her intentions at all, but I think it all 
 but clear that she will lose her good name, her friends, 
 & her lover by what she is doing, and in my present 
 state of feelmgs towards this young man I shd. say 
 a breach with him is devoutly to be deprecated. . . . 
 Ever yours most sincerely, 
 
 H. G. 
 191 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 February 8, 1841. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I return your proofs, with such comments, perti- 
 nent and impertinent, as my judgment suggested. I 
 have no idea where to " throw a cast " to fish up any 
 facts about your historical worthies. Brantome and 
 Bayle seem the most promising reservoirs to try and 
 at a leisure moment I will 'een throw a Ime for you, 
 having both. But I will consult Geo. about it when 
 he comes home. The Biog. Univ. may have something 
 about them mayhap. I will ask Mr. Hallam when I 
 see him, which I hope to do on Sunday, as he is to be 
 asked to meet us at dinner. I had a Richmond Journal 
 of 18 January sent me on Friday last which shews that 
 city to have been infested with the Elssler mania to a 
 rampant degree. I shall not expect any letters before 
 the End of March, if then. I can't stir out, cold pinches 
 me and horses cannot stand. I went not to Reeves, 
 but must contrive to get to Mrs. Austin's on Tuesday. 
 I regret you are so overshadowed by your work, but 
 when people are " full inside and out," of luggage, 
 they can't stop to gossip on the road. I shall await 
 the end of this " relai," if indeed you stop at any given 
 point. I am in debt to everybody as to visits and 
 cannot promise such a long evening at Bayswater for 
 a good long day I doubt. 
 
 Opera opens 4 Mar. 
 
 Adieu I dear Mrs. Jameson, I wish you better, and 
 a happy issue out of this undertaking ! 
 
 Affectionately yours 
 
 H. G. 
 
 8 Feb. 3 p.m. 3 hours after receiving yours. 
 
 192 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 Tune 2\th (1841 ?). 
 
 My dear friend,— 
 
 . . . You were not at Mrs. Procter's last Tues- 
 day week, I conclude, or wd. have heard the moans 
 of Sydney & Co. there over my absences from illness. 
 I lost the clos^ concert on the Monday, with Liszt's 
 Septuos I In short I lost everything except a dinner 
 at S. Smith's on Thursday, where I was almost a cypher, 
 from languor. I shall be very happy to be made 
 acquainted with yr. Noels, but you must lay the plot 
 and apprize me. I will call on them if you will let 
 me know where. I have heaps of things to say to 
 you ; why did you not come on Monday? Liszt i played 
 waltzes to boys and girls dancing, and Ad : Kemble ~ 
 sang beautifully several things : two remarkable events, 
 as you will agree, to occur in a private dwelling on 
 one evening. I am now tolerably well and going to 
 Moscheles tonight, and to dine at Lady Eliz. H. Vere's 
 on Friday, & to see Taglioni 3 on Sat^. I lend my 
 drawing rooms to A. Kemble for a morning concert next 
 week I a monstrous proof of the sympathy and interest 
 I bear that fine creature. I don't know when I shall 
 see you, for, as I ride whenever I am not ill, I see no 
 great chance of its being chez voiis, & you seem chained 
 to the leg of the table there. However, be it when & 
 where you will, it will give me sincere pleasure — being 
 ever affec'^' yrs. 
 
 H. Grote. 
 Chorley's book is capital, as far as I have read. 
 
 In 1 84 1 Adelaide Kemble returned from Italy 
 
 and made her first appearance in England. She 
 
 ^ Franz Liszt, 1811-1886. ^ Adelaide Kemble, 1814-1879. 
 3 Marie Taglioni, 1804- 1884. 
 
 193 N 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 had all the charm and talent of her race and 
 achieved much success in her career as a 
 singer. The letters preserved by Mrs. Jameson 
 are tinged with a deep melancholy. Here is an 
 example :— 
 
 Adelaide Ketnhle to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Dear Anna, — 
 
 Some time on Sunday I will come and see you, 
 probably during the day, for I am not sure of being 
 able to do so in the evening. Oh, when indeed shall 
 I have peace? Not till I am under the sod — if then. 
 
 Adelaide Kemble. 
 
 On another occasion she wrote the following 
 verses, with a little note scribbled on the fourth 
 sheet of the paper ; the sentiment expressed in the 
 first poem recalls Christina Rossetti's well-known 
 lines :— 
 
 When I am dead, beloved, 
 Sing no sad song for me. 
 
 Out of the sun's hot glare 
 Oh ! make my bed ; 
 
 Where the violet blows. 
 
 Where the long grass grows. 
 
 Oh ! lay me there 
 When I am dead. 
 194 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 Bring no flowers rare. 
 
 To deck my bed ; 
 The violets grow above 
 The hearts of those they love. 
 Hang no garlands there. 
 
 When I am dead. 
 
 Raise no stone above 
 
 My lonely head, 
 Put no stifling tombstone there ; 
 The flowers will spring up thick and fair. 
 The violets love 
 
 The early dead. 
 
 II 
 
 " Oh I love me well — oh ! love me well, 
 And lay thine hand upon my heart. 
 
 For oh I my dear thou knowst it well 
 We soon must part. 
 
 " Oh ! love me well, oh ! love me well, 
 
 Kiss me upon my eyelids fine. 
 For oh I my dear thou knowst it well, 
 
 I never can be thine. 
 
 " And fear me not, but tell me true. 
 
 Is she as fair as 1 ? 
 Are her eyes like mine, or blue, 
 
 And does she smile or sigh? " 
 
 " Thine eyes are soft like damp moonshine, 
 
 Hers are nor black nor blue, 
 They are not large brown eyes like thine, 
 
 But a grey that runs one through." 
 195 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 " But when they look in thine — oh ! say, 
 
 Then look they kind in sooth? 
 " They are clear and chill as an autumn day 
 
 And they hurt one like the truth. 
 
 " Her cheeks are pale, her spirits tame, 
 
 Her skin is wondrous fair ; 
 She spends her days at her broidery frame 
 
 And half her nights in prayer. 
 
 " She has no hours of grief or mirth 
 
 And love she does not know ; 
 She weds because from our hours of birth, 
 
 Our sires did will it so. 
 
 " Oh I red ripe lips ! oh ! round arms rare I 
 
 Oh ! eyes of liquid light ! 
 Oh I spicy breath and fragrant hair. 
 
 That overcome me quite ! 
 
 " Thy honied words hum like a bee 
 As they melt from thy little mouth ; 
 
 And warm and free thou lookst to me 
 Like a sunset in the South ! 
 
 Harriet Grote to Anna Jameson. 
 
 B. Beeches, 
 Sunday, July ^th (1841). 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson, — 
 
 1 was down with a headache on Thursday and 
 part of Friday. Thus neither note nor visit cd. be 
 accomplished for your profit. 1 came down yesterday, 
 calling for an hour at the Hostl. fete, where Geo., 
 
 196 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 for the I St. time in his life also went, & was, like a 
 child, so enthralled by the strains of the 3 military 
 bands playing all the while we staid, that I had much 
 ado to tug him away to persuc our journey hither. 
 We have Mr. Lewis, Alfred Austin and Jos : Parkes 
 today, wh. has prevented my writing you a long note, 
 but I wd. not suffer these days to go over without 
 trying to negociate a day to enjoy the real pleasure 
 of talking with you. Suppose you give me Wed^.? I 
 will not answer for not going to the German Opera, bat 
 that 1 presume wd. not deter you. Our bed is at your 
 service, & I only wish you wd. make use of it when 
 your convenience dictates, without awaiting an invita". 
 I return on Tuesday to E. St. I am unable to say 
 more at present than that I long for a confab", with 
 you. & to hear your budget, yet do not think I shall 
 " escape from you," even if we meet but at long in- 
 tervals. I am slow to form friendships, but may 
 predicate of myself the one virtue of constancy, (amid 
 many faults & weaknesses wh. appertain to me as well 
 to my neighbours) & therefore fancy I shall long con- 
 tinue to deem you a valuable & estimable intimate, & 
 to desire to attract to myself as much of your esteem 
 & confidence as you may feel disposed to bestow. 
 Ever dear Mrs. Jameson yrs. 
 
 affect'^ 
 H. Grote. 
 
 The little embryo " danseuse " ' (alas!) is here, 
 & happier than a butterfly. 
 
 P.S. I see I have turned two leaves so send both 
 to avoid rewriting. 
 
 ' Fanny EUsler's child. 
 197 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 You have no idea of the social success of our Fanny 
 in N. York. She is actually received in the best 
 families as a guest. This I learn from Leguin, and 
 from a French paper sent me by Mrs. Procter, wh. 
 has delighted me. 
 
 William Howitt to Anna Jameson. 
 
 London, 24 Bartholomew Close, 
 
 July 9, 1841. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson, — 
 
 I have been in London three months, and all 
 that time proposing to myself to call on you and thank 
 you for your kind introductions to Mr. 7^om Jecke 
 and the Schlossers at Heidelberg. I thought you would 
 like to have five minutes chat about your friends, and 
 especially your young friend. And now I am off back 
 again on Wednesday next I To me, to whom the bosom 
 of my family is the very heart of Paradise, just under 
 the Tree of Life itself, I need not say that a nine 
 months solitary bustling, hurrying, and laborious stay 
 in flattering but unsympathising London, is rjuite an 
 age and that I shall leave it the moment I have done 
 my business in it. Yet I should have liked to have 
 seen you for ten minutes, and will, if it is convenient 
 to you and you will say when. If not, shall I be 
 the bearer of a letter or letters? 
 
 We are going, soon after my return, a ramble of two 
 or three months through the north of Germany, and 
 Madame Goethe has very kindly offered to give us 
 all the advantages she can for seeing Vienna and its 
 people. 
 
 198 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 Shall we have the pleasure of meeting you any- 
 where? 
 
 Can you tell me where Lady Byron is? 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 William Howitt. ' 
 
 John Murray to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Twickenham, 
 
 August 20, 1841, 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson, — 
 
 ... I heard yesterday from his Physician, that 
 Theodore Hook - was " dying fast." I intend to ride 
 over to Putney to-day to make enquiry, but I am sorry 
 to say, with very slight hopes of finding him alive. 
 
 I have obtained, till the end of October, one of the 
 most commodious and comfortable villas f with beauti- 
 ful Lawn down to the Thames, where all my Family — 
 particularly myself — are really enjoying ourselves — and 
 I wish you could manage to pass a day with us. Tell 
 me where you are going, and when, and pray believe 
 that I am, My Dear Madam, 
 
 Most Sincerely Yours, 
 
 John Murray. 3 
 
 t The second on this side of Pope's. 
 
 In 1842 Adelaide Kemble retired from the stage 
 before her marriage, which took place early in 
 1843. The following letter, written in a lively 
 
 ^ William Howitt, 1792-1879. ^ Theodore Hook, 1788-1841. 
 3 John Murray, 1 778-1843. 
 199 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 vein, shows the surprise that the engagement 
 occasioned :— 
 
 Lady Monson to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Carolside, Earlston, Berwickshire. 
 
 Well ! My dearest Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 If I donH sit down and write to you, I feel 
 I shall do nothing but sit with my hands on my knees 
 all day, contemplating the wonderful piece of intelli- 
 gence your letter conveys. I'm in utter amazement. 
 Luckily I have Jean Mitchell to tell it to, and we have 
 been staring at each other ever since I made the corn- 
 munication. Why, my dear Mrs. Jameson, that walking 
 Pea jacket, that creature that I have wondered about 
 whenever I have thought of him at all, that thing that 
 I have seen for years and never yet learnt whether 
 he ever had a father or mother — that not handsome, 
 not ugly, not fat, not thin, not good, not bad, not 
 pleasant, not unpleasant, in short the only quality about 
 him not negative that he always has his hands in his 
 P. Jacket. I cannot make it out ; when I talked to 
 A. about marrying a good man she could esteem and 
 not to marry from any superabundance of the helle 
 passion, I did not think of Sartoris ; I did not mean 
 her to go as far as that. What can it be? Do, dear 
 Mrs. Jameson, write to me again about it directly. 
 Every thought I have about it, at present, has a nega- 
 tive turn ; I don't see that she will be w/zhappy, I 
 don't see that she \vill be happy. I shall not be 
 surprised if you tell me he dances on the tight rope, 
 but if you tell me A. is in love with him, I shall. 
 
 200 
 
A Fair Dancer 
 
 What will Papa say^He'll die, so he will get rid of 
 his engagement at Covent Garden. I have so often 
 asked A. what that body on two legs was ; she never 
 seemed to know. I got, last time I was in London, to 
 enquire what he lived upon. She said he had some 
 little money, just enough to malce up another negative 
 I suppose, not penniless. Well, I hope she is not in 
 love with him, that's one conclusion to come to, for 
 that positive will never do to join to such a non- 
 entity. 
 
 A. does not write to me and now I don't wonder. 
 What says Fanny? I arrived here two days ago. Did 
 I not tell you in my last letter that I had fixed the 
 30th. for leaving Meluen? I thought I had. I should 
 have written to you again but did you not tell me 
 you were going to write me a longer letter in a day or 
 two ! So I have been waiting for it, not " forgetting 
 you " indeed. 
 
 When will you come to Scotland? Mrs. Mitchell hopes 
 for you here. Do come. That man Sartoris, (I hope 
 he is positively that, bye the bye, but I never thought 
 of him as of any particular sex even), always has 
 given me the idea of not being otherwise than a good 
 moral sort of thing, may I think make A. happy. He 
 may be an angel of light in short, but who would have 
 thought one would ever have thought about him for 
 half an hour without ceasing? Do write, dear Mrs. 
 Jameson. When is it to be? God help you. God 
 help us all, for men and women seem to be like balls 
 on a billiard table. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 J. M. 
 
 201 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 These lines on Adelaide Sartoris do not seem to 
 have been published in Adelaide Procter's collected 
 works , 
 
 TO MRS. SARTORIS. 
 
 Music ! of mortal gifts the most divine, 
 The brightest, rarest, lady fair, is thine ! 
 The spirit of the southern land of song, 
 Has taught thee how to charm the listening throng, 
 Has taught thee how remorse and crime have been 
 The fearful fate of the Assyrian Queen, 
 And how amid the oaks with woman's pride 
 The lovelorn priestess found revenge — and died ! 
 Hath she not whispered in some summer dream 
 How that sad bird beneath the moon's pale beam. 
 Sends up its soul unto the starlit skies, 
 And how the white swan warbles ere it dies ! 
 How the sea sirens lure each passer by 
 And charm the unwary stranger till he die? 
 Our land made glorious by thy gifted song, 
 Finds that bright genius that had left her long ; 
 Music no more to softer climes hath flown. 
 While northern England claims thee as her Own ! 
 
 Adelaide. 
 
 202 
 
V 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HARRIET MARTINEAU 
 
 The autumn of 1841, Anna spent in Paris, studying 
 art with a view to her Handbook to the Public 
 Galleries in and near London, and to a more im- 
 portant work which she contemplated writing. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Avenue Marbceuf, 23. 
 
 October 15, 1841. 
 
 My dear darling Charlotte,— 
 
 I wrote a letter from the day after my arrival, 
 very reluctantly, but you had all insisted on it and I 
 was afraid you would be uneasy if I did not write. 
 It would have been better to have deferred my letter 
 till I had something to say ; I have now been here 
 nearly a fortnight, but have not done as much as I 
 expected and hoped to have done, having caught a 
 horrible cold on my journey and every day since, one 
 cold on another, till at last I was fairly laid up and 
 obhged to keep quiet. The great event of my life here 
 has been meeting with Rio • ; I have introduced him 
 
 ' Alexis Rio, 1 806-1874. 
 203 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 to Mrs. Forster & M. de Triqueti ' and all parties are 
 so delighted with the introduction that I have had their 
 cordial thanks on both sides for being the means of 
 making them known to each other. 
 
 Henri de Triqueti, who has married Mrs. Forster 's 
 daughter, is a fine artist (a sculptor) and an admirable 
 creature altogether ; he had previously fallen in love 
 with Rio's book and now I think it will prove " an 
 eternal friendship." I am in the Louvre every other 
 day at least — studying and so carefully that I am not 
 yet beyond the ItaHan school in the Salle des Tableaux 
 — not beyond the first rooms in the Gallerie des Dessins 
 and I have not set my foot into the Gallery of Sculpture. 
 I have been twice at the Louvre with Rio and de 
 Triqueti at my elbow and profited accordingly. I have 
 only been in a Theatre once, the Italian Opera, where 
 I had a place in a box, and I am going to see Rachel 
 to-night, and this, I think, comprises my whole history 
 since I have been here. . . . All articles of dress are 
 far dearer at Paris than in London. I have bought 
 you, dear Charlotte, a buckle for the waist, the fashion 
 here is a very narrow ceinture and a very small buckle ; 
 they also wear velvet round the throat and wrists 
 fastened with little buckles which also I have bought 
 you. I shall bring Mamma some little manchettes 
 made plain with little gilt buttons ; and Eliza a cap. 
 You can ask Cam if she would like some little buckles 
 for the throat much like those I have bought for you. 
 I am looking about for something for dear Papa, 
 but except a very pretty pocket handkerchief I have 
 as yet found nothing. This is no place for useful 
 
 things. 
 
 ^ Henri Baron de Triqueti, 1802- 1874. 
 204 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 Joanna Baillie ' to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Hampstead, 
 
 February i, 1842. 
 
 Dear Miss Murphy,— 
 
 I do not know your sister, Mrs. Jameson's, 
 present address and I must take the liberty, through 
 your kindness, to offer my best thanks for the copy 
 of her translation of the Princess of Saxony's Plays 
 which she has had the goodness to bestow upon me. 
 They reached me several days since, and I have as yet 
 only read the first volume. Pray give my love to her, 
 when you write, which I suppose you do frequently, 
 and say that I have been much amused and pleased 
 by her own clever introduction to the work, and have 
 read the two first Dramas with pleasure and interest. 
 The easy language in which she has clothed them, 
 removes from one's mind the idea of their being trans- 
 lations, or nearly so, and I trust they will meet from the 
 Public the encouragement they so well deserve. . . . 
 
 Believe me, my dear Miss Murphy, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 J. Baillie. 
 
 The chief event of this year was a visit paid by 
 Anna to Harriet Martineau ; the letters that she 
 wrote to Lady Byron about her hostess constitute a 
 veritable " human document," and throw light on 
 the character of this remarkable woman. It is 
 strange to reflect that the invalid, lying there wait- 
 ing and hoping for death, should have written the 
 obituary notice of her visitor eighteen years 
 
 afterwards . 
 
 ^ Joanna Baillie, 1 762-1 851. 
 205 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to Lady Byron. 
 
 Tynemouth, 
 
 (Postmark 1842). 
 
 I left you better, dear Lady Byron, making daily 
 visible progress in spirits & in strength and I left 
 you to come here where many pleasures awaited me ; 
 ought I not to have parted from you more cheerfully? 
 but it is my weakness— my sin — (it is scarcely less) that 
 I cannot part from anyone I love cheerfully. It is a 
 sort of death, or syncope at least ; however, it is past 
 and here I am some 300 miles away from you. I 
 arrived at ^ past 2, yesterday. I found Harriet Mar- 
 tineau in a little humble lodging, in a small room with 
 one window overlooking the sea and commanding the 
 entrance to the Harbour. Her countenance & Manner 
 appear to me softened and at the same time more 
 cheerful & lively than ever ; the gaiety of her spirits 
 
 6 the rapid flow of her words almost made me un- 
 comfortable. I thought it might be the effect of a 
 larger dose of opium, but I was mistaken ; our inter- 
 course hitherto has not been so pleasant as it will be, 
 I hope, in a day or two. I left London with a pain & 
 swelling in my throat which 1 3 hours travelling & the 
 foggy morning air, improved with a most decided attack 
 on my chest & sore throat, so that my voice is for the 
 present extinguished & my share in the conversation 
 as little as possible. Harriet luckily has strength & 
 spirits to take it on herself & every thing she says were 
 well worth recording if I could but transmit it worthily. 
 I was with her yesterday from three to 5, and then from 
 
 7 to 10, & today from i to 4 ; but this is not one of 
 her good days & after she had talked almost incessantly, 
 
 206 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 for 2 hours, with extreme vivacity, I thought it best 
 to leave her for a time. As for the subjects of our 
 conversation, you were the first ; she was anxious to 
 hear all about you and your illness ; she spoke of 
 what she owed to your kindness and the tears flowed 
 freely from the warm heart, but she said that except 
 in your kindness she did not know you & did not 
 understand you ; that only personal intercourse and 
 for a long time, could enable her to do this : was there 
 any hope of your coming North? I could give her no 
 hope for this year. I was very glad to qualify some 
 part of your letter about yourself ; how could you 
 make her suppose that you are impatient under suffer- 
 ing? I think I ought to know and it is not true. 
 She spoke with a joyous gratitude of the attentions of 
 other of her friends — all the pretty books & little luxuries 
 in her room are gifts ; a beautiful telescope on a brass 
 stand, with a map of the flags of various nations, from 
 Mrs. Reid ; it is at the expense of another friend 
 that her room is to be enlarged by throwing down the 
 partition wall and a third will pay the rent of the 
 additional room. She has i2o£ income & yet has to 
 pay £6, lo^ — income tax. She explained to me how 
 this happens, but I can not make it clear to you with- 
 out too many words ; it is monstrous, but she is entirely 
 in favour of the tax, notwithstanding, & of opinion that 
 when the details are amended & the manner of collect- 
 ing it better arranged, that it will work well and that 
 it will, if continued, render other taxes unnecessary. 
 She is full of admiration for Sir R Peel and thinks 
 our poHtical horizon never looked so bright as at 
 present. She summed up her reasons for thinking so 
 in a strain of such eloquence ; I wish I could repeat 
 
 207 
 
*Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 it word for word, but I only remember the summary 
 of facts which I was not inclined to refute. 
 
 To-day she gave me the whole history of her malady, 
 of all she had suffered ; of the heroic conduct & 
 devoted attention of her friend Julia Smith ; of the 
 medical treatment she had undergone & was now sub- 
 mitted to. It was most painfully interesting ; in some 
 points absolutely sickening, to me who am not fond 
 of medical details — still I would not have lost a word 
 of it. It is clear that the case is hopeless, utterly 
 hopeless. Opiates, administered in a particular way, 
 enable her to bear the pain & nervous distress. She 
 says that but for these blessed opiates she must have 
 been long ago — " crazy or dead " ; she thinks it will 
 be decided in a week or two whether her life will be ter- 
 minated soon, or whether she may go on as now for some 
 years before the disease assumes a malignant aspect : 
 she is inclined to hope the latter, but is ready for 
 either result. She spoke of the tender sympathy of 
 her friends as delightful, but more than the case 
 demanded — she said strikingly : " When I was in 
 London at the height of my reputation, prosperous, 
 flattered & admired, I was enduring those mental 
 agonies which brought on the disease. No one pitied 
 me then ; now that I am really happy, 1 have so 
 much pity and sympathy, I almost fancy myself a 
 cheat." 
 
 There is a great deal in my heart & mind I long to 
 say to her, but I am not well & it is a painful effort 
 to exert my voice to which that of an old crow, dying 
 of a consumption, were musical in comparison. For this 
 reason, I shall not write to Mrs. H Siddons for a day 
 or two. 
 
 208 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 Saturday night. 
 
 Your dear letter rec'^ this Evening — I have only- 
 time to thank you for the comfort of it. How I want 
 comfort when far away from you, you cannot entirely 
 know, but some instinct of sympathy or benevolence 
 makes you do for me the only thing you can do. 
 What must absence be to those who, instead of reposing 
 in faith, trust, & hope are harassed by doubts, sus- 
 picions, fears? My anxiety about you is constant, but 
 if I knew you to be well and with those who contributed 
 to your happiness, that would be enough. I have just 
 returned from spending three hours by Harriet's Sopha ; 
 she has been so ill today that I feared lest she should 
 exhaust herself by talking, but the flow & liveliness 
 of her discourse remained the same up to the last 
 minute and at last I insisted on leaving her to repose, 
 or to read Consuelo, which she has begun. We had 
 much talk of Mrs. Austin & Catherine Sedgwick, or 
 rather she talked & I listened. 
 
 Tynemouth, 
 
 Monday night. 
 
 Unless I had spent a few days near this very extra- 
 ordinary woman, I could not have formed an idea 
 of the depth of the suffering ; acute pain would be 
 a relief now & then, compared to the depressing un- 
 reachable nervous distress arising from the displace- 
 ment of important organs & the perpetual pressure on 
 the intestines & vertebrae ; of the result of this suffer- 
 ing—combined with the efi'ects of the opiates — the 
 gradual, but I fear certain consequences, with regard 
 both to the physique & the morale, I am beginning to 
 form a clearer idea. I do not think she sees it all 
 herself ; in fact she cannot. 
 
 209 O 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 She looks forward to the enlargement of her room 
 as to a great event and is pleased to talk of it and 
 to plan the situation of every table, chair & all the 
 little improvements to her comfort it will bring ; but 
 she could not bear any more air & light than what she 
 sees from her window ; she says that the expanse 
 of the blue sky & the wide horizon makes her sick 
 — sea sick — that the very idea of encountering it again 
 sickens her with alarm. She cannot read much & only 
 at intervals ; when under the influence of the opiate 
 it is difficult to fix her attention & at other times it is 
 worse, sickening. The great resource is needle work 
 — such as does not try the sight ; netting, worsted 
 work &c. Her correspondence is a source of much 
 interest, every post bringing letters ; a newspaper, 
 with any thing interesting on the topics of the day, 
 is a great pleasure. She has only one regular news- 
 paper, weekly, the Spectator — for others trusts to chance 
 & the kindness of her friends. She never appears 
 to suffer from ennui, talks much & with great vivacity 
 and prefers talking to listening — luckily for me. Her 
 perfect good nature & faith in humanity and the bright- 
 ness of her spirits, which in health would make all 
 intercourse with her agreeable, render her in this afflic- 
 tion very interesting. She has some peculiarities arising 
 from her defective senses, which I feel, but could 
 scarcely describe. Taste & smell are almost as deficient 
 as hearing ; she never heard the voice of the thunder, 
 nor inhaled the fragrance of the rose, nor tasted straw- 
 berries & cream ; how far her perceptions & her 
 intellect have been modified by the imperfection of her 
 senses — you can perhaps conceive. I feel it perpetu- 
 ally ; you, with the exquisite delicacy of your nervous 
 
 210 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 organisation, sentient thro' every fibre, would feel it 
 if you were here. Imagine Burns saying to 
 Harriet M — " My dear Madam — Friendship is Straw- 
 berries — & Love is strawberries & cream " — & her im- 
 penetrability ! ; she would be puzzled by such a speech 
 to the end of her life. She believes in the doctrine 
 of necessity, does not believe in Freedom of will. Dr 
 Channing in his last letter to her declares his dissent 
 from her, but merely adds : " you are satisfied with 
 that which does not satisfy me — as I grow older I am 
 more & more indifferent that those whom I love and 
 respect, should adopt opinions I think erroneous." 
 
 This has been a very interesting day. She talked 
 of the use of classical literature to girls, of the delight 
 she took in Horace ; she said every woman who pre- 
 tends to a commonly good education now reads latin ; 
 she thinks that in learning languages the Greek gram- 
 mar should precede the latin grammar. There were 
 long talks about H o f w y 1-— & she read me part of a 
 letter from Julia Smith who has lately been there. 
 H. M's opinion about H of wyl seems generally favour- 
 able ; she makes two objections however to sending 
 English boys there : i that it unfits them for Hving 
 in the country to which they belong and interferes with 
 what she calls the fixity of habits & that classical litera- 
 ture is not sufficiently attended to. She objects also 
 to the division into the three schools ; she made these 
 objections doubtingly however & as if her mind were 
 not quite made up. This evening the conversation 
 was on religious speculations. She spoke of her own 
 future prospects ; she said that tho' resigned to live 
 on thus, she would prefer to die, & that it would be 
 to her unspeakable happiness & relief to know that 
 
 211 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 a crisis was at hand— however painful — & her time 
 limited ; there is so much real & cheerful patience 
 that this struck me very much. 
 
 ,. . . While listening to Harriet M. to-day I sat 
 with her at the window looking through her telescope 
 at the Marsden rocks and watching a group of per- 
 sons who were lingering and clambering among them. 
 I go to Seaham // it be possible — I did not intend 
 to mention this, till I had made it sure ; but perhaps 
 you might have some wish to be fulfilled, some com- 
 mission to be done ; could you write, in that case, by 
 return of post? For if I do go, it will be on Saturday 
 at latest. This is my third letter to you. You see I 
 write quite openly of the mind now revealed to me, 
 but only to you and for you some things which I can 
 not write, I will tell you. I must stop now for I 
 am really quite exhausted — not yet well — but rather 
 better to-day — good night dear Lady Byron. 
 
 A. J. 
 
 Thanks for the Examiner — I took it at once to 
 H. M., we will read the Prison discipline tomorrow. 
 I am afraid my letters are dreadfully long, but I think 
 you are interested in my principal subject. . . . Do 
 not destroy them for I may wish to refer to them. 
 No tidings yet of Mrs. H. Siddons ; once more good 
 night, I trust you are now quietly asleep. Tuesday 
 nieht 12 o'clock. 
 
 "■b' 
 
 Wednesday and Thursday, 1842. 
 
 Dear Lady Byron, — 
 
 I forgot to thank you for the Examiner which 
 has given great pleasure to the poor Invalid — I read 
 
 212 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 the article on Prison discipline with horror — can such 
 things be — now? — under the awakened eye of humanity? 
 — How can we know what things may be going on — 
 behind stone walls — as under ground — but there is a 
 comfort in the thought that we are making some pro- 
 gress — something is done when these things are 
 dragged into light & published — is it ignorance — or in- 
 difference or absence of power? who are in the wrong? 
 The short report leaves all this uncertain. 1 have 
 been much disappointed by Mrs. H. Siddon's letter ; 
 I am afraid we shall not meet in this world & our 
 forming an acquaintance in the next is not quite certain. 
 She is going to Edinburgh, whither I cannot go ; my 
 present plan is to leave Tynemouth early on Saturday 
 morning, go over to Sunderland & Seaham thence to 
 Durham where I shall stay a few days with an old 
 friend of my fathers — & then return at once to London. 
 Harriet M. is better today — less sick & weary — & 
 very bright & amiable — The conversation has been ex- 
 tremely amusing — principally on Somnambulism ; she 
 has faith in all its marvels, — Clairvoyance — & all ! She 
 told me of a recent case which had been brought 
 under the notice of Dr. Channing & completely con- 
 verted him — she thinks that many of the miracles in 
 the old and new testaments may be thus explained 
 & she lo;oks forward to a future when these marvels 
 will be familiar and used as means to an end and that 
 end the well being of the human race. She said many 
 profound & enthusiastic things to wh. 1 listened almost 
 in silence ; you know that I stand neuter ; ready 
 to believe, but never yet having heard or seen any 
 thing that has convinced me. A great charm in her 
 character is the strength of her domestic affections ; 
 
 213 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 she is loved even more than she is honoured in her 
 own family circle — her passionate attachment to her 
 friends scarcely leaves her judgment free. In this she 
 is not singular. One may use, or try to use, one's 
 judgment where there is strong affection, but it is much 
 like trying to draw an object with the sunshine full 
 in ones eyes. She said once that we are immortal 
 thro' the affections — and our life hereafter will be in 
 & by them — & once she said a beautiful thing — which 
 I am afraid to spoil — not being sure of the words : 
 " God is the most sympathetic of all beings ; what 
 but the intensity and farsightedness & universality of 
 his sympathy could have induced him to create us? " — 
 
 Thursday 7iight. 
 
 Here is your letter ; how much I could say in reply 
 to it, if I were not very weary and unwell. I think 
 you are right about H. M., but you would like her 
 notwithstanding & you & she would converse on many 
 subjects quite out of my beat ; it is a mind of great 
 powers accustomed to deal with great objects. 
 
 Of the abstracts you send, I only understand one 
 —but I will try again tomorrow ; the style seems to 
 me very bad, wordy and obscure. I understand that 
 about artists, I think, and the sentence " les incom- 
 pris ne se sont jamais bien compris eux memes " 
 contains a deep truth, 
 
 I cannot tell you what weariness of spirit hangs 
 upon me. I left poor H. M. worse tonight ; the 
 physical distress dreadful & the effects of the Laudanum 
 seemed to hurry her mind ; yet she talked admirably 
 — eloquently & wisely too — my very heart aches with 
 compassion even when 1 seem most cheerful with her. 
 
 214 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 I wish I could stay with her a few days longer, but 
 from various causes I cannot and whenever I go, it 
 will be the same thing. Emily Taylor is coming. 
 I have set my mind on going to Seaham ; I have yet 
 to learn distances, conveyances & so forth, but shall 
 get to Sunderland easily & throw myself on the fates 
 & destinies — I wish you had given me instructions where 
 to go — what to look at— for time presses. How I 
 shall think of you 1 Ever your affect. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 TVNEMOUTH, 
 
 Sunday — 9, 1842. 
 
 A journal, dear Lady Byron, which should relate all 
 I do, might be comprised in very few lines ; a journal 
 which should comprise merely the tellable part of what 
 1 think, feel & hear in the course of one day, would 
 take many days to record truly. On going to Harriet 
 Martineau at the usual hour our conversation took a 
 strange turn ; she had been reading half the ist vol 
 of Consuelo & was delighted with it. She complained 
 of the sexual tone of this & other works of the writer ; 
 I observed that one class of writers, including George 
 Sand & others, made the relation between the sexes 
 too prominent — of too much importance &c. & that 
 another class considered it far too lightly or saw it 
 in a false point of view, as I thought, (meaning her- 
 self — as she at once understood). She then entered 
 on the subject & allowed that she thought in some 
 respects very differently from what she had done when, 
 she first began to write & even to a late period ; still 
 she holds some opinions which it was difficult to meet, 
 or discuss, or confute & which are founded, I think, 
 
 215 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 in ignorance of some facts of our human nature. The 
 idea, for instance, that Love, as a passion, is merely 
 one of many — on a par with love of fame, ambition, 
 love of money, power & equally capable of being 
 managed, resisted, modified, seems to me wrong. This 
 led to a great deal of argument. She said she had 
 never been in love — knew not what it was — except 
 thro' imagination & sympathy ; this appeared to me 
 the key to some singular speculations of hers — but 
 let it rest between ourselves & 1 will tell you more 
 of this argument when we meet. She shewed me some 
 interesting letters ; one, most beautiful, from Dr. 
 Channing — in which after praising the lines sent to 
 her by R. M. Milnes, he says " Be glad that you have 
 been the cause of awakening such high & holy thoughts 
 & generous sympathies. We do a part of our own 
 appointed work when, thro' our sufferings, we elevate 
 the minds & call forth the nobler sentiments of others 
 — I think this is nearly literal, but perhaps not quite. 
 The whole letter struck me very much. Others from 
 Milnes, Carlyle & particularly from Bulwer, interested 
 me very much ; with the latter she had a corre- 
 spondence on Zannoni which I wish I could have 
 carried in my head — quite a literary curiosity. Zannoni 
 apparently, seized on her imaginations & her ex- 
 position of what she conceived to be its purpose & 
 meaning, struck me so much that I shall get her to 
 write out and give me her analysis of it to shew you. 
 Altogether her conversation is wondrous rich. I have 
 but to listen, most glad to do so for my voice is still 
 between a croak and whisper & 1 am stupidly ill ; 
 her incidental sketches of character are admirable. 
 One letter she showed me today 1 must mention — 
 
 2l6 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 from a Madame Colmache (I think) wife of Talley- 
 rand's secretary — thanking her for the pleasure & im- 
 provement derived from Deerbrook & the Hour & the 
 Man & containing some exquisite traits of character 
 vi^hich also I keep for you. She — I mean Harriet M. 
 — is perfectly open & affectionate & I may — / think 
 I may — have the pleasant conviction that my visit is 
 a source of pleasure, for whenever I go to her, she 
 says cordially : — " I am so glad you are here ! — 1 am 
 so happy to have you " or other kind words — 
 evidently sincere. Now would you ask my feelings? 
 added sympathy & admiration certainly, for one of 
 the most extraordinary & gifted women I ever met 
 with ; I am almost overpowered with her, perhaps, 
 too conscious power — touched by the buoyant cheer- 
 fulness of her resignation, strengthened by her brave 
 endurance, her faith, hope & charity in regard to the 
 destinies of the world — but my observation is always 
 wide awake, my intellect, more than my feelings, ex- 
 cited. I listen — (I feel it)— more with my head than 
 my heart ; listen to understand, to retain & to 
 profit. Whether things will thus remain, or admira- 
 tion & interest melt into some tenderer feeling, I do 
 not know ; the relation between us is at present very 
 agreeable & I do not wish it changed ; it would not 
 make her happier & 1 can afford no more regrets. I 
 want no more friends. May God only spare to me 
 those I now possess & grant me in this world the 
 occasional sunshine of their presence, keep alive in 
 my heart the hope of seeing them hereafter & strengthen 
 that hope into undoubting faith such as I do not feel 
 yet. O how I wish I did — or could ! — 
 
 I shall write tomorrow to Mrs. H. Siddons — I have 
 
 217 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 been telling H M the little I knew of her, & the much 
 I think & feel about her for your sake — & she is most 
 willing to make my acquaintance, tho' shunning new 
 people, particularly now, for she is not quite so well 
 as usual. 
 
 This has been a very interesting Evening — H M 
 (to save my voice) read to me some notes of her 
 remembrances of her childhood, all she could recol- 
 lect up to 5 years old, put together as a lesson in 
 education & to exhibit the effect of certain early im- 
 pressions on particular temperaments. She intends to 
 go on with this singular autobiography which, from 
 its peculiar nature, cannot be published till long after 
 her death ; from its sincerity in matter & purpose it 
 will be very valuable — 
 
 She has been extremely frank in her communications 
 on other subjects as well as her own personal history 
 & past experience & I have left her early, absolutely 
 exhausted by excited attention & interest & by the 
 rapidity & vivacity of her language & ideas. I can 
 write no more. I go to bed in the hope that to- 
 morrow will bring me a letter from you. Brighton 
 has always seemed to me as such a staring, glaring 
 place ; the hurry and frivolity & publicity of London 
 squeezed into a small compass. I do not like it for 
 you — but then if it agrees with you — perhaps it is as 
 well. — Good night ! with the same wish — the same 
 prayer, ever in my heart. 
 
 Seaham,' 
 Su7iday Night (Postmark 1842). 
 
 Unless you were here — your hand in mine, your 
 
 ' Lady Byron's old home, from which she was married in 181 5. 
 
 2i8 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 eyes looking into mine — you could not be more present 
 to me than you have been all this day. Let me tell 
 you what I have been doing ; what 1 have been thinking 
 & feeling I need not tell you. 
 
 As soon as I had taken a bath & breakfasted 1 
 wandered across the fields, over picturesque broken 
 ground, to Old Seaham church. I walked in, took 
 my seat in a pew & listened to the service. — The 
 Sermon, common place enough in style, was on the 
 virtues of resignation & humility, ending with the words 
 — they who sow in tears, shall reap in joy. After 
 the service I had some conversation with Mr. Creswell, 
 but without allowing him to suppose I had any particular 
 interest in the place ; then went to the house — made 
 friends with the gardener & housekeeper, visited the 
 pretty little flower garden. From the great hawthorn, 
 which they have Christened Lord Byron's Hawthorn, 
 & from a beautiful large myrtle growing near the 
 conservatory, I gathered a branch from each to bring 
 you ; then went over the house where they pointed 
 out the room in which Lady B. was married & that 
 which was her bedroom — then down to the Beach & 
 lingered there for two hours ; the tide coming in and 
 dashing up against the rocks, the sea covered with 
 a cold grey veil — calm & motionless except where the 
 waves rolled in upon the shore 
 
 ... I made two or three sketches and lingered and 
 lingered on the sands and among the rocks till I was 
 spent, came home and now 1 go rest with my heart 
 full of you. It would please you to know, but I dare 
 say you do know, with what respect your family are 
 remembered here ; people who could not possibly guess 
 that 1 had any personal interest in the place, referred 
 
 219 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 to the fame of the " old family " and contrasted it 
 with the present. . . . To-morrow early I proceed to 
 Durham, I hardly know how, but suppose I shall get 
 there in time and keep my letter open to finish it 
 there, hoping I may find a letter. How I wish I 
 knew the names of any of the people here in whom 
 you are interested, that I might see them or enquire 
 after them ! But I have done nothing but linger about 
 along the cliffs or down on the beautiful beach, so 
 occupied with you and only you that no other thoughts 
 would enter my mind ; and now good night. I have 
 not told you anything of what I most wish to say, 
 but when we meet you will hear it all. 
 
 Durham, 
 Monday (Postmark 1842). 
 
 I find your two letters here, dear Lady Byron, but 
 did not arrive in time to put my letter in the post. 
 I ought to have told you that 1 had given to H M 
 that part of your last letter which referred to her case 
 & which she took, as you meant it, most kindly ; When 
 I told her that you did not think it impossible that 
 you might visit her next year, she exclaimed with great 
 emotion " O bless her — bless her " — I reminded her 
 it was uncertain — a wish rather than a project — she 
 replied " I will not hope too much — but that she has 
 had the thought is enough — for that I bless her — " 
 she is netting you a little handkerchief to wear round 
 your neck with so much pleasure that I think it will 
 please you ; she is indeed as warm hearted as she is 
 strong hearted & strong-minded — 
 
 I send you a few words spoken at Seaham last night 
 — 1 was so tired — in body & spirits, I could scarce hold 
 
 220 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 the pen, but they shall go. O if the spray on that shore 
 could baptize me an old friend, I should now be that 
 which 1 have often wished to be & claim the privileges 
 of the initiation. I have been ankle deep in the waves 
 — wet thro with the spray. I do not answer what you 
 say about words — I never doubted you — it is myself, 
 my power of interesting you I have doubted. My 
 friends here are so hospitable & there is so much to 
 see in this beautiful city that I shall remain till 
 Wednesday. 
 
 Ever your affect 
 
 Anna. 
 
 The following letter is one of the very few written 
 by Harriet Martineau that have been preserved by 
 Anna. 
 
 ( Undated.) 
 
 Now, my friend, spread the Athenasum of Saturday 
 last wherever there are minds and hearts worthy of 
 the Woman article. It does make me happy. May 
 God bless the man — whoever he be — who has bravely 
 and nobly and wisely begun the work of pleading 
 for our sex I If that man live to looo years old, he 
 would never do a nobler day's work than the writing 
 that article. It is all that even I could desire, within 
 its bounds. Mine eyes have seen the dawn of salvation 
 for our sex, thank God I You will be delighted with 
 the quotation from Deerbrook ' and the mention of 
 your humble servant, — (wisely omitting the name). It 
 is long since anything has sent such a glow of hope 
 through my soul. 
 
 ' Published 1839. 
 221 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Harriet's desire that all her letters should be 
 burnt evoked this characteristically vehement reply 
 from Anna— 
 
 Anna Jameson to Harriet Martincau. 
 
 Ealing, 
 
 January 17, 1843. 
 
 Had I, my dear Harriet, obeyed the impulse of the 
 moment, I should have replied to your last letter at 
 once & I should have expressed in strong terms the 
 pain and astonishment I felt on reading it. You wish 
 that I should burn or surrender your letters? The 
 request seemed to me so extraordinary, so inconsistent 
 with the brave, honest, clear spirit I have always ad- 
 mired & respected in you, that I paused & waited till 
 I should have your reasons at length. I wrote to 
 Mrs. Ker & only received her reply yesterday. I have 
 read your reasons, transcribed from your own letter to 
 her and I am not more convinced than before. If you 
 persist in requiring your letters to be destroyed, I must 
 yield to your wishes, but if, instead of a particular 
 case, you make it a general principle & assume it as 
 every lady's right in all cases, then I protest against 
 your reasons and against your right — with all my soul 
 & with all my strength. If I were near you I should 
 try to persuade you to reconsider the matter, but I 
 despair of convincing you by any arguments I can 
 use; you appear to have made up your mind on the 
 subject. It grieves me & I fear to give you pain 
 by the expression of my own strong feelings on the 
 subject. Are you aware of what you are doing, of 
 the mischief that might arise out of such principles as 
 
 222 
 
Harriet Martineau 
 
 you assert? It appears to me that you are giving the 
 most deadly blow to mutual confidence, to what you 
 call freedom of speech, that ever yet was given. It 
 appears to me, that in your view of the case your better 
 reason, your purer higher instinct of right, has been 
 overborne by some particular and (forgive the word) 
 morbid feeling & that under this influence you are 
 striking at the root of all trust — trust in ourselves and 
 in others — next to trust in God, the happiest and most 
 strengthening feeling we can have. Shall we then make 
 a principle of fear'} Shall we openly allow that we 
 are afraid to speak or write what we think & feel, lest 
 our words be repeated or published to our own or others 
 wrong? I grant you that accidents have happened — 
 & may happen again from our own or others indiscre- 
 tion ; let such experience make us wiser & when we 
 fear treachery or carelessness, let us defend ourselves 
 against it — but rather than I would make a law upon 
 the subject, taking away our free will & free spon- 
 taneous trust in ourselves & our friends, rather than 
 deliberately set up such an example as one to be uni- 
 versally followed, or assert such a principle as you have 
 done, I would suffer every letter I ever wrote in my life 
 to be placarded at Charing Cross & every word I had 
 ever uttered to be blown thro' a speaking trumpet to 
 the four winds of heaven. I think it the most detestable 
 treachery to keep or show some kinds of letters; I 
 think it the extreme of weakness & cowardice to destroy 
 others of a different character & if, in this discrimination, 
 I am to have no right of judgment whatever, then I 
 am not fit to be trusted in any thing, nor fit to be 
 yours nor any lady's friend. I have kept a few of 
 your letters & parts of letters, for special reasons; 
 
 223 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 because they were honourable to you & to me, because 
 they contained valuable truths, because they gave me 
 strength and comfort & might perhaps prove a reve- 
 lation of hope, strength, comfort to others. I find you 
 have given Chorley permission to keep the letters 
 addressed to him & I understand that you have given 
 the same permission to others — I ask of you the same 
 privilege — will you not grant it to me? do I deserve 
 it less? do you think me less loyal? I feel that I 
 deserve to be trusted as far you trust any other in the 
 world & I beg that you will allow me to keep your 
 letters, at least for a few months longer; I have not 
 touched upon the question of expediency about which 
 there may be many opinions, nor the legal question, 
 which I presume is settled, but I stand on the moral 
 principle & it grieves me that we should differ so 
 widely — 
 
 224 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 BUSY YEARS 
 
 In 1842 Mr. Murphy died after a long, lingering 
 illness ; his widow and two unmarried daughters 
 settled at Ealing, where Lady Byron was then 
 living. 
 
 xA.nna pitched her tent with them, but she used 
 her home as little more than a pied-a-terre to rest 
 in from time to time during her wandering life. 
 In the autumn of 1845, she went to Scotland for 
 two months, spending a week at Malvern with Lady 
 Byron on the way. There she met Mrs. Harry 
 Siddons, daughter-in-law of the great Sarah, with 
 whom she afterwards stayed in Edinburgh, after 
 passing a month with Lady Monson at Carolside. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Mrs. Murphy. 
 
 Carolside. 
 
 I have treated yoii so ill, dearest Minnie, that I ha\ e 
 really a pain in my conscience and Cam wanted to 
 reproach me for saying nothing of myself. I felt as 
 
 225 P 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 if there were nothing to say; I can now say truly that 
 I am better — 
 
 As to what I am doing, the truth is that I am doing 
 nothing; I am absolutely idle, I do not even read. 
 I wish sometimes that I had brought a piece of work 
 down, for I just saunter & loimge away time in a most 
 unprincipled manner. You would not know me if you 
 saw me playing at Bagatelle in the morning & at chess 
 in the evening; driving out with Lady Monson over the 
 Hills or straying in the grounds when the weather 
 allows of it. We have had much rain and the beautiful 
 stream (the Leader) which flows at the foot of the 
 lawn, has been swelled to a turbid roaring torrent — 
 The other day we drove to Smailholm, an old Border 
 fortress on a high hill about 6 miles off; Sir Walter 
 Scott I was nursed & spent his infancy close to this town 
 at a farm-house called Sandy Knowe, as you will read 
 in his life & he has made the town the scene of one 
 of his finest ballads (the Eve of St. John). He is 
 indeed the presiding spirit of this country. I have 
 been several times to Melrose to Cowdenknowes, to 
 Beamerside (which is inhabited by the same family 
 who lived in it 800 years ago) & to other famous 
 scenes. The young Laird Alexander Mitchell came 
 down last night. Since he came of age last August 
 he has made some improvements in his chief town 
 (Stowe) & in particular he has furnished the inhabitants 
 with a supply of Spring water which has been much 
 wanted. These new fountains are to be opened to-day, 
 with a grand fete — a tea drinking & a ball; for this 
 occasion he has come down from town & we all going 
 in state. The sun is shining, the weather propitious 
 
 ' Sir Walter Scott, 1771-1832. 
 226 
 
Busy Years 
 
 & we shall have, I suppose, a magnificent drive of lo 
 miles along the banks of the Tweed to the Valley which 
 Scott has made the scene of the " Monastery," in which 
 at present Ues the very dirty town of Stowe, which is 
 to be benefited by the Sanitary measures now intro- 
 duced. The scene will be amusing & I shall see Reels, 
 etc. danced in the true Border style. To-morrow I 
 go to Edinburgh to spend a week or ten days with the 
 Mair's; what I shall do next I do not know. At 
 present I have no great inclination to go to Ireland, 
 no wish to make any effort, or enter into any gaiety. 
 I think I shall be at home about the end of the 
 month. . . 
 
 Your Aflfecte. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Gerardine Bate. 
 
 29, Abercrombie Place, Edinburgh, 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 Your letter, dearest Geddic, deserves a better and 
 a longer in return, than I am able to send you to-day 
 — but I must at least thank you for it; it has pleased 
 and amused me very much, only in future, dear, pray 
 do not cross your letters, which is needless except to 
 save paper and do not write with such very pale ink; 
 since the postage has been altered, crossing letters is 
 out of fashion, which will be a great saving of eye- 
 sight to the rising generation. . . . Since I wrote last 
 I have visited Abbotsford; the room in which Sir Walter 
 Scott used to write is kept in the same state & I sat 
 down in his chair. There were many curious things to 
 be seen — Rob Roy's purse & Broad sword & old Border 
 
 227 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Relics, but the house seemed cold deserted, empty & 
 melancholy & the miserable death which poor Sir Walter 
 died, with all his fame and glory, made one sad to 
 think of — & this, not because he was ambitious for 
 fame or excellence, but unhappily, for land & money. 
 In the end " he went a beggar to his grave " — as an 
 epitaph on him says & Abbotsford would have been 
 lost to his family but for the charity of his country men 
 — a terrible but useful lesson ! 
 
 We dined on Friday with the laird of Covvdenknowes 
 and I was next to Sir Adam Ferguson, an old & dear 
 friend of Walter Scott, who told me stories about him 
 all dinner time. 
 
 45, Melville Street, Edinburgh, 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 My dearest Mother, and dear Sisters,— 
 
 This is to give you some news of me and of 
 my doings which, however, are not particularly inter- 
 esting. I came to spend a few days with Cecilia 
 Combe (the wife of the famous Phrenologist and philo- 
 sopher and the daughter of Mrs. Siddons). I am rather 
 amused by my visit and grateful for all kindness of 
 my friends but I cannot get quieter in mind and body 
 and suffer from sleepless nights. The good Mairs would 
 only part with me on condition of my returning to them 
 if I could possibly prolong my stay in Edinburgh, but 
 I feel rather uncertain and unsettled as to plans and 
 prospects. ... I am going to the Play to-night (a 
 great piece of dissipation for me at present) to see 
 King Rene's Daughter, and I walk about or drive about 
 with Mrs. Combe who has a nice carriage and is 
 
 228 
 
Busy Years 
 
 acquainted with all the artists here. To-day we went 
 to Sir John Watson Gordon's pictures. 
 
 Edinburgh does not look to advantage in this cold 
 gloomy weather, but certainly is one of the most beauti- 
 ful cities in the world. 
 
 Let me have a domestic letter soon, and also dear 
 Minnie's blessing, 
 
 I am, your affect. 
 
 Anna, 
 
 Edinburgh, 
 
 Ju7ie 2^tk. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 My plans are now, I believe finally arranged. 
 We leave Edinburgh on Thursday Morning the 26th 
 and you can trace our course on the map by Inver- 
 licthea, to Selkirk and from Selkirk to Moffat — there 
 my friends leave me and turn back and I go forwards 
 to Carlisle and Ambleside, where I hope to see Words- 
 worth I and H. Martineau; thence I go on to Clitheroe 
 and I think it will be safest to direct all letters there 
 (CO. Primrose, Clitheroe, Lancashire). Everything has 
 gone well here and I am very glad that I have come. 
 
 The task I have undertaken is likely to be more 
 important and more interesting than I could have be- 
 lieved; all her friends are full of confidence and kind- 
 ness and all openly and decidedly agree in two things, 
 that it was the wish of Mr. H. S. that such a thing 
 should be done and that / should be the person to do 
 it. This is very pleasant and sets my conscience at 
 ease. 2 
 
 ^ William Wordsworth, 1 770-1850. 
 
 2 Proposed Lite of Mrs. Siddons, which was not carried out. 
 
 229 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 On Saturday we had a very agreeable excursion up 
 the Forth to Stirlmg where we dined on the grass under 
 the Ramparts of the Castle, looking over an elysian 
 valley to the Western Highlands, Benlomond, Ben Ledi 
 rising sublimely in the distance. It is a pity that I 
 am obliged to refuse a number of agreeable invita- 
 tions to the Highlands and elsewhere; 
 
 In 1845 Anna's thoughts turned again to Ottilie, 
 who had just lost her little daughter and whom 
 she had not seen since the spring of 1839. It was 
 not really convenient to her to go to Germany just 
 then, but, as usual, she arranged her plans to suit 
 her friend. " I must not fail Ottilie," she wrote 
 to her sisters before setting out on her journey. 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Sisters. 
 
 Rue des Saintes Peres, No. 55. 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 My dear Sisters,— 
 
 ... Of course I have nothing very particular 
 to say. I spent Tuesday morning at Amiens at a 
 charming, clean, cheerful hotel (the Hotel du Rhin) 
 looking over the magnificent Cathedral, in which I found 
 many interesting things. I found on my arrival at 
 Paris that good Madame Mohl ' had provided for me ; 
 I am in a small hotel in the most unfashionable part 
 of Paris, pay 5 frs. a day for a bed-room and sitting- 
 room, and I fr. for my breakfast and dine where I 
 like. This is not ruinous, but the prices of everything 
 are dreadful and Paris crowded and gay beyond de- 
 
 ^ Madame Mohl (Mary Clarke), 1 793-1883. 
 230 
 
Busy Years 
 
 scription. ... I have been nowhere, except to the 
 Exhibition of Pictures, which contains about 4,000; 
 from every different country; so I shall have enough 
 to do to look over them. There are numbers of people 
 here whom I know and who look as if they were glad 
 to see me, so I shall remain here till Ottilie can decide 
 where we are to meet, perhaps ten days. I hope 
 the little house (which may God protect !) goes on 
 well. ... 
 
 RosAwiTz,' Bohemia, 
 
 August i^th. 
 
 My dearest Mother & Eliza,— 
 
 I cannot see this day rise without beginning it 
 with a few Words to you to show you at least that I 
 think of you; God bless you both and send you yet 
 many happy years. I wish I could know something 
 of home, but it will be at least a fortnight more before 
 I can have a letter & in the mean time I try to profit 
 by the opportunity of learning much in a thousand ways 
 & keep anxiety away from my mind. Yesterday I dined 
 at the Castle with the Thun Family & was very glad 
 to renew my acquaintance with them all, tho' the absence 
 of Count Francis made it less agreeable than it would 
 have been had he been there. Ottilie is at Weimar 
 & I remain here for some days longer before we pro- 
 ceed to the South. The Country here is wonderfully 
 beautiful; you will have an idea of it if you look in 
 my book of sketches where the view of Tetschen is 
 inserted — a little bound book in a case — 
 
 Dresden, August 27. — I have been kept in a good 
 deal of suspense by delays of post & other accidents — 
 
 ^ Mr. Noel's place in Bohemia. 
 231 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 I am now expecting here Madame de Goethe, her mother 
 & Ulrike and I am sorry to say that it is now decided 
 that we go round by Viemia. It will cause me some 
 loss of time and some expense, but there is no avoid- 
 ing it. I have written to Munich to desire that all letters 
 shall be forwarded to Vienna, but God knows when 
 I shall get them, if ever, and my mind is beginning to 
 be anxious ; not one word from home since I left you 
 more than a month ago. One might as well be in 
 America. ... I left Rosawitz with great regret, it is 
 really a most lovely spot, a place to attach oneself to, 
 but luckily I have other things to do. Since I came 
 here I have been very busy. I go to the Gallery every 
 morning, make notes, to the library, to the royal collec- 
 tion of prints, and picking up everywhere. I have been 
 introduced to the Countess Kahn, drank tea with 
 her last night and found her very agreeable and 
 ladylike. 
 
 August 28th. — I shall close my letter to-day and 
 post it. Ottilie arrived last night and our plans are at 
 last settled; on Sunday we leave Dresden for Tetschen, 
 going up the Elbe in a Steam boat ; on Monday 
 we leave Tetschen and proceed to Prague; on the 
 4th we shall be at Vienna and on the 8th at 
 Venice. ... 
 
 In the summer of 1844, Anna had made the 
 acquaintance of Elizabeth Barrett,' that " pale small 
 person, scarcely embodied at all," as Nathaniel 
 'Hawthorne called her ; the elder woman conceived 
 
 ' Elizabeth Barrett (1809-1861) married, in 1846, Robert 
 Browning (181 2-1889). 
 
 232 
 

 fiu^^^ut^ 
 
 FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
Busy Years 
 
 not only a profound admiration for the invalid's 
 genius, but showed a sort of motherly care for her 
 health. She and Miss Mitford and Mr. Kenyon 
 were the only people admitted to her sick-room 
 besides Robert Browning, and in the letters ex- 
 changed in 1845 and 1846 between the lovers, 
 her name is frequently mentioned. When they at 
 last made up their minds to a runaway match and 
 a flight to Paris, it was a burning question if Anna 
 were to be let into the secret or no, and it was 
 apparently decided in the negative more for her 
 sake than for their own. In the year 1846, Anna 
 had made up her mind to go to Italy, staying in 
 Paris on the way, and she invited Miss Barrett to 
 come with her, and even insisted on the good that 
 the climate would do to her health. To all en- 
 treaties the poetess remained deaf, saying that she 
 was too ill and was chained to her sofa. Anna 
 therefore started off with her niece, Gerardine Bate, 
 and was very much surprised when the newly 
 married couple met her in Paris. Eventually they 
 joined her in her journey to Italy, making a stay 
 at Avignon on the way. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Hotel du Europe, Avignon, 
 
 Oc toiler 1th. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 I begin a scribble to you from hence to be 
 finished when we have settled our future which is yet 
 
 233 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 undecided. Our journey has been very tedious, very 
 anxious, yet all things considered I would not but have 
 made it for the world. Our poor invalid has suffered 
 greatly, often fainting and often so tired that we have 
 been obliged to remain a whole day to rest at some 
 wretched place; to complete the tedium of our pro- 
 gress we had incessant rain down the Rhone from 
 Lyons to Avignon, one perpetual deluge — so that we 
 were reduced to a hot crowded cabin on board a daily 
 Steamboat. This was the climax; but in spite of all, 
 the journey has been a happy one and I can never 
 repent it. Nothing could have been better for Gerar- 
 dine; if it had been arranged on purpose as a perpetual 
 lesson, it could not have been more effectual and she 
 has been really very good and very efficient, consider- 
 ing. 
 
 You remember the description of Avignon in Dickens' 
 Book? I forget it, but can tell you from myself that 
 it is deliglitful. We spent the day in looking over the 
 old palace of the Popes; poor E. B. obliged to spend 
 the hours on her bed, but sympathising with us and 
 full of sweetness and goodhumour, anxious that we 
 should see everything and satisfied to hear that her 
 husband had been amused with all he saw. She is really, 
 charming. Gerardine is going to write a full and par- 
 ticular account of our progress, to her mother — so you 
 will see all we have done and what we are to do I 
 will tell you to-morrow — 
 
 Avignon, 
 
 Thursday c^th. 
 
 We went yesterday to the far-famed fountain of 
 Vaucluse, about 1 8 miles from the city ; a pleasant day 
 
 234 
 
Busy Years 
 
 on the whole and E. B. got through it very well. 
 Gerardine was in a state of enchantment, the dear child 
 is certainly very good and very happy and very 
 well. . . . 
 
 It is decided that we leave Avignon to-morrow to 
 catch the French steamer which goes from Marseilles 
 next day (the iith) and on Monday morning about 
 noon we hope to be in Pisa, where I hope to have 
 letters. . . . 
 
 We are in the South here, olive trees, figs, vines, at 
 every step ; the silk harvest going on, groves of mul- 
 berries, everything unlike the north of France. I shall 
 not write home till I have been tAvo days at Pisa, and 
 live in the hopes of finding some tidings there. . . . 
 And so dearest, God bless you, do not forget how 
 much of my tranquility and efficiency will depend on 
 hearing often from home. 
 
 Your aflfect. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 After leaving the Brownings at Florence, Anna 
 and Gerardine Bate went to Rome, where they spent 
 some happy months. Gerardine was working under 
 her aunt's direction on the engravings that were to 
 illustrate the new book ' ; Anna herself was en- 
 gaged in collecting materials. She went about 
 much in society and met some of her personal 
 friends, such as Fanny Butler, John Gibson ~ the 
 sculptor, Lady Charlotte Bury 3 and the Cobdens,4 
 
 ' "Sacred and Legendary Art," published 1848. 
 2 John Gibson, 1790-1866. 3 Lady Charlotte Bury, 1775-1861. 
 4 Richard Cobden, 1804-1865. 
 
 235 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 with whom she often visited the picture galleries 
 and palaces of the Eternal City. 
 
 This visit to Rome was clouded by an event that 
 should have brought only happiness to all con- 
 cerned, but which resulted in something very like 
 a quarrel between aunt and niece. Gerardine 
 attracted a good deal of attention in society ; so 
 much so that her aunt feared that her " little head 
 would be turned." When she receired a proposal 
 from an artist, Robert Macpherson, Anna's grief 
 and disappointment were intense. She had adopted 
 this girl and hoped to have her always with her ; 
 that she should become engaged to be married 
 at once, had not entered into her calculations. 
 Vehement as ever, she cordially disliked the man 
 himself, threw cold water on the whole affair and 
 returned home in a less cheerful frame of mind 
 than she had set out. Gerardine, who adored her 
 aunt, evidently passed through many an unpleasant 
 moment before she found herself back in London. 
 She eventually married the painter and settled in 
 Rome . 
 
 " Sacred and Legendary Art," published in 1848, 
 
 met with an immediate and well -deserved success. 
 
 Anna was now an admitted authority in her own 
 
 field of study and a woman whose personality 
 
 attracted to her hosts of friends and acquaintances. 
 
 Looking back over the busy years, she might well 
 
 feel satisfied at the record of work accomplished. 
 
 Of the long list of books to her credit the principal 
 
 236 
 
Busy Years 
 
 were: "Visits and Sketches," published 1834, a 
 German edition of which appeared subsequently ; 
 " Winter Sketches and Summer Rambles in 
 Canada," 1838; "Social Life in Germany" and 
 the translation of the Princess Amelia of Saxony's 
 dramas, 1840; "Companion to the Picture 
 Galleries of London/' 1842; a series of articles 
 on " Italian Painters " in the Penny Magazine, 
 1843, reproduced in volume form, 1845 j " Guide 
 to the Private Collections of London," 1844. In 
 1845 she had edited " Memoirs of the Early Italian 
 Painters"; in 1846 she published a volume of 
 " Miscellaneous Essays," including the admirable 
 " House of Titian " and the " Xanthian Marbles," 
 for which Elizabeth Barrett Browning translated 
 some lines from the Odyssey. She was now occu- 
 pied with preparations for a work that was to last 
 her for the rest of her life. 
 
 To Ottilie, who had written a letter of appreci- 
 ation on receiving " Sacred and Legendary x\rt," 
 she sent a few lines that bear eloquent testimony 
 to the serious side of her friend's nature. " I am 
 glad you like my book, dearest ! " she wrote on 
 June 2, 1849. " I can only say that in many 
 parts of it I thought of you while I wrote it ; I 
 thought of pleasing you and felt sure of your 
 sympathy." 
 
 An amusing letter of congratulation comes from 
 Henry Reeve. 
 
 237 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Henry Reeve to Anna Jameson. 
 
 1 6, Chester Square, 
 
 December 5, 1848. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Accept the thanks congratulations & applause 
 of a very old friend on the appearance of your most 
 instructive and beautiful book. It gratifies the eye & 
 the mind alike, & I think you have perfectly realized 
 a very charming conception. If you had not cut the 
 vanities of London, as you have done, for too long, 
 you would hear our admiration in every drawing-room. 
 There is only one draw-back to our gratification & 
 that is the insoluble conundrum or enigma which forms 
 the last lines of your ist vol. Who on earth or in 
 heaven is our Modern Mary Magdalene? Why is she 
 a martyr? Is it over? Where did it happen? Long- 
 man's life is a burden to him until you enable him to 
 answer these enquiries, and I understand a handsome 
 premium has been offered to the fortunate Oedipus who 
 may find you out. For my part I give it up, & beseech 
 you to put me out of my pain. Lady Blessington, 
 Fanny Butler, Lady Flora Hastings, Mrs. Norton & 
 I know not who besides have been suggested : but I 
 believe it is some private Saint of your own. 
 
 I write with ia heavy heart today, thlough on this 
 subject I attempt a joke. But even jokes remind one 
 but the more of him who was all pleasantry & friend- 
 ship & who today is — buried. You will believe that 
 we have deeply felt poor Charles Butler's death, & 
 it leaves a blank not to be filled up in our generation. 
 Indeed what blanks ever are filled? 
 
 We got poor Mrs. Butler to my house immediately 
 
 238 
 
Busy Years 
 
 after all was over &' she is still with us— wonderfully 
 well for her but beyond all measure afflicted. 
 When do you return to England? 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 H. Reeve. 
 
 An article on Gibson in the Art Journal called 
 forth the following interesting letter from Mrs. 
 Sandbach, which is too long to be inserted in full. 
 
 Margaret Sandbach to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Hafodmos, Llanrwst, 
 
 May IS, 1849. 
 
 Madam,— 
 
 I hope you will kindly excuse the liberty I am 
 taking in writing to you. I am induced to do so from 
 the interest with which I have just read your life of 
 Gibson in the Art Journal. In a letter from Gibson 
 lately received, he tells me it is yours, and very happy 
 indeed I am to see so true and beautiful a memorial 
 of his life thus given to the world, by one who appre- 
 ciates fully both the man and his Art. 
 
 May I be permitted to mention one or two little 
 circumstances with regard to his Works which I happen 
 to be acquainted with, and which I am sure, from the 
 spirit of your own work, will not be uninteresting to 
 you. 
 
 I have also looked out a few extracts from Gibson's 
 letter, written when the idea of the Statue of Aurora 
 first dawned upon him— & during its progress. 
 
 We only possess two statues by Gibson— The Greek 
 Hunter & the Aurora. ... 
 
 239 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 The Statue of Sappho with " her drooping head & 
 Lyre unstrung," is especially interesting to us, from 
 the circumstance that Gibson designed it with refer- 
 ence to the former inmate of the Library it was in- 
 tended to adorn— my dear Grandfather Mr. Roscoe — 
 " Sappho mourning for her son." 
 
 The Angel of Hope, watching for the opening of 
 the Gates of Heaven, was originated by some lines of 
 my father which we found after his death, & I read 
 to Gibson when I was in Rome. The Tablet was 
 designed in memory of him, but my Mother too died 
 very soon after, & it is sacred to both. 
 
 We have also, besides the two Statues, a bas-relief 
 in marble of Cupid & Psyche (flying). A cast of the 
 Wounded Amazon, Hero & Leander & Venus & Cupid, 
 & a bust in marble. We see only too little of them, for 
 we reside principally in Wales. 
 
 I will now only add the Extracts I spoke of, & with 
 many apologies for the length of this letter, beg you to 
 believe me Madam, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Margaret Sandbach. 
 
 P.S. In 1846 Gibson gave me some interesting 
 accounts of conversations with you. Pray forgive me 
 if this interest in a mutual friend has led me to write 
 too much. 
 
 Extract from Gibson's letter. 
 
 Innspruck, 
 
 July, 1842. 
 
 Last year, in the woods, how I used to be pondering 
 to find some subject for a Statue for you, but the image 
 
 240 
 
Busy Years 
 
 did not appear to me until I came to Rome, & then 
 Aurora dawned upon me. 
 
 " Now Morn her rosy steps in th' Eastern Clime, 
 Advancing, sowed the Earth with orient pearls " these 
 lines give you exactly the motion & occupation of my 
 figure. I will give you a sketch of the Statue, but only 
 in words — it is not a bad thing in words the spirit of 
 this idea. 
 
 Behold the harbinger of Day — Aurora, Goddess of 
 the Morning, Mother of the Stars & Winds, just risen 
 from the Ocean, the bright star Lucifer glittering on 
 her brow — one foot on the wave, the other softly touch- 
 ing the Earth, Aurora, youthful, fresh as the blushing 
 rose, light as the Dew, swift as the rising Sun, her 
 brother — is clad in the most transparent vest, ample 
 & rich — her delicate limbs are uninterrupted & free 
 among the numerous folds which collect themselves 
 in playful variety here & there — now waving — now 
 fluttering — now winding about as she glides on — on, 
 thro' the refreshing breeze. 
 
 Aurora has filled the two vases which she carries in 
 her soft hands with pure dew from the sea~& as she 
 moves onward with swift wings at the same time cast- 
 ing a serene & dignified glance over the Universe, 
 scatters the pearly drops, each drop spreading like mist 
 falling upon the earth — then all the flowers awake & 
 expand in the morning Sun. 
 
 /li/y 29, 1848. 
 
 I am told my Aurora's face should have been joyful 
 — gay morning — I wished to express celestial tranquillity 
 & unfading beauty. 
 
 241 Q 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Hafodmos, 
 
 May 2 2, 1849. 
 
 My dear Madam,— 
 
 Your very, very kind acknowledgment of my 
 
 letter emboldens me to write to you again. I have 
 
 two letters from Gibson which I cannot help thinking 
 
 would interest you — written at such an exciting moment 
 
 from Rome. I enclose a copy of the last, & some 
 
 extracts from the former one ; and when you have 
 
 quite done with them (in the course of a few days), 
 
 perhaps you will have the goodness to seal the envelope 
 
 which I have addressed to my Uncle, enclosing them. 
 
 You have probably had later news — indeed we all 
 have, in the papers, & Mrs. Huskisson has a later 
 letter from Gibson — but everything he writes, has so 
 much character & is so like himself, I know you will 
 enjoy it. 
 
 I cannot tell you how delighted & gratified I am 
 with your note, I had been afraid I was presumptuous 
 in writing to you at all. In my early youth, almost 
 childhood, your beautiful works charmed me — Your 
 name is one I have so long reverenced & I had talked 
 about you with Gibson, & longed so to know you — 
 I wonder 1 ever summoned courage to write to you, 
 but 1 thought of you then as Gibson's friend & true^ 
 beautiful, biographer. 
 
 I had been gardening all morning — this garden where 
 I spent many a happy hour with him — & when I came 
 in, there was a letter among others — in a hand, not quite 
 strange, for he had given me your Autograph — but I 
 could hardly believe it had come so soon — & it is so 
 kind ! 
 
 Is it not a singular feeling we have, for those we 
 
 242 
 
ANNA JAMESON. 
 After a bust by J. Gibson. R.A , now in tlie National Portrait Gallery. 
 
 to face p. 241. 
 
Busy Years 
 
 have known only in spirit? But I will hope that some 
 day we may meet that I may really see you — not in my 
 mind's eye only, but face to face. 
 
 I am grieved that you are ill. Pray do not think 
 of answering this— I beg you will not, but believe me. 
 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 M. Sandbach. 
 
 The following letter, though evidently later in 
 date, may find a place here— 
 
 Harriet Hosmer ' to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Schweitzer Hof, Lucerne, 
 
 Aug2ist loih. 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Just ten months ago this very day, as I find 
 by the date of your letter now lying before me, you 
 were good enough to write me the kindest of letters, 
 containing a little criticism, more praise and still more 
 encouragement. Now what have I to say for myself 
 for letting ten months roll on without a civil word of 
 acknowledgement? Nothing but that I acknowledge my 
 transgression and my sin is ever before me ; but mean- 
 time I have not been idle and perhaps have been giving 
 a still stronger proof of my sense of oblig'ation to you 
 by adopting your sug'gestions and profiting by your 
 criticisms, than if I had filled four pages with thanks. 
 How far I have availed myself of these and what the 
 result of ten months study has been, you may already 
 have an opportunity of judging for yourself, for before 
 coming away from Rome I committed to the tender 
 mercies of Mr. Boardman two photographs of differenrt: 
 ' Harriet Hosmer, 1 830-1 908. 
 243 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 views of Zenobia and destined for you via Bessie and 
 Princes St., so if you liave not already received them 
 they will soon be forthcoming and I shall leave them 
 to speak for themselves : the only remark I have to 
 make is that the round folds in the torso (thigh) do not 
 please me and I shall change them in plaster ; they 
 are harsh and jagged and must be made more dolce ; 
 as for the rest, though I wish them better, yet 1 don't 
 see the way to make them so and as my master is 
 content, I suppose I must be, finding encouragement 
 in his verdict that I " have given some of the artists a 
 twist." If I had had more time I should have had 
 another view taken, showing the back from the right 
 side and the arrangement of drapery which falls like 
 a train upon the ground. As to the face, I have been 
 forced to exercise my own taste, as all the coins and 
 casts I have been able to obtain were so worn and 
 broken as to be quite worthless, not giving me even 
 the shadow of an idea. So after all my doubts and 
 queries, here is my daughter for what she is worth 
 and what that is still remains to be seen. When the 
 Prince of Wales was in Rome he bought your favourite 
 Peach and asked me to enclose a photograph of 
 Zenobia to show to the Queen which I have done 
 accordingly and forgive me this once and I won't do 
 it again. Florence— Breakfast Table, Wouldn't it 
 warm the cockles of my heart if she would take it 
 into her royal head to have a copy ! Well so much for 
 art ! Now for what Ruskin would call Nature. Here 
 we are, my dear Master and self among these beautiful 
 mountains enjoying all the pleasures that fine scenery 
 can furnish to the eye, or the sound of live waters to the 
 ear, or fresh air to the lungs. Mr. Gibson says " Give 
 
 244 
 
Busy Years 
 
 a great deal of love to Mrs. Jameson and tell her how 
 often we speak of her and now that peace is established, 
 we hope to see her in Rome this Avinter." In which 
 sentiments, particularly the latter, I sincerely join. We 
 were on the look-out for you all last winter and then 
 again in the spring, a report having reached us that 
 you were on your way, but we were doomed to see no 
 Mrs. Jameson. You give me a great deal of good 
 advice regarding the myrmidons of the Caffe Greco, 
 which I receive and remember. I think I do and have 
 always attached to their kind insinuations all the weight 
 they merit, which is none whatever. I mean to silence 
 them, though not with my tongue, in return, but with 
 my fingers. I consider their remarks malicious and 
 ungenerous as they are the highest compliment they can 
 bestow, because, if I were not a little in their way, they 
 wouldn't give themselves the trouble to think about me. 
 That is my easy and contented way of viewing the 
 matter. 
 
 My next work is a group of Christ raising the dead 
 girl, for a monument destined for America. What do 
 you think of the choice in the somewhat limited monu- 
 mental field? Now, dear Mrs. Jameson, I want to 
 know what you think of Zenobia altogether and so 
 shall be bold enough to beg another letter. 
 
 We stay here another three weeks and then make 
 our way slowly to Florence, where we stop and then on 
 to Rome. 
 
 Goodbye, and believe me always affectionately 
 
 Your 
 
 H. 
 
 245 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 IRELAND AND MARIA EDGEWORTH 
 
 In the autumn of 1847, Anna paid a visit to Oxford, 
 and was amused to meet a lady who recommended 
 her to read her own books, saying that Mrs. Jame- 
 son was a " very nice author," who had gone to 
 Canada, where she had Uved among savages. She 
 afterwards went to hear the " Messiah," which was 
 given in that year. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 I hope you did not suffer afterwards from all 
 your kind cares for me before I left you and that 
 you are enjoying peace and rest. . . . 
 
 Now for this grand festival — I assisted (as the French 
 say) at the opening day yesterday — the Messiah— most 
 magnificently performed ; but sometimes the tremen- 
 dous choruses were too much. Clara Novello 
 entrancing ; it would have been all perfect but for 
 the weather, torrents of rain all day, from which of 
 course I did not suffer (from the capital arrangements 
 made by Mr. Russell) but it was vexatious to see so 
 many people suffering all more or less. The numbers 
 
 246 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 present — nearly 14,000 and the orchestra 3,000 more ; 
 on Saturday for the rehearsal there were 20,000, but 
 then it was cheaper. After the performance we had 
 a most pleasant dinner party at the palace, all prepared 
 beforehand; we were 12 in number. I had Henry 
 Phillips the painter next to me, poor Mrs. Charles 
 Dickens before me and all went off well. I am here 
 till Saturday — after that nowhere that I know of— send 
 all letters every night's post till Friday. Your 
 affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 Love and blessing t;o all. To-day I am as tired 
 with the sounds of yesterday as if I had walked 20 
 miles. 
 
 Dear ones all,— 
 
 I have only time to write a few words. . . . My 
 visit to Alton Towers was altogether most agreeable. 
 It is really a magnificent place. Miss Talbot drove 
 me yesterday in a poney carriage over the groimds; 
 miles in extent ; and to a convent of the Oratorian 
 Order, founded by Lord Shrewsbury as a refuge to 
 those converts to Catholicism who have forfeited home 
 or family, or other worldly advantages, for the sake of 
 their new religion. . . . 1 go on to Holywell this even- 
 ing and to-morrow to Conway and shall cross the water 
 on Friday morning — about ^ past 6. 
 
 The following letters are interesting both as 
 giving an account of Jenny Lind ' in private life, 
 and as showing that Mrs. Grote was still as full of 
 
 ' Jenny Lind, 1820-1887. 
 247 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 enthusiasm as ever ; they must have been received 
 during her visit to Ireland. 
 
 September 24. 
 Dear Friend,— 
 
 . . . Jenny Lind has turned all our heads; 
 surely never was there a stronger evidence of the power 
 of genius and goodness, for the last has almost as much 
 effect as the former. I have been at both Concerts 
 and I have passed two hours in her company with the 
 Stanley family. As an artist she is supreme; she 
 can execute everything and the calm simple dignity of 
 her manner is wonderful. She has the far-seeing look 
 that I have so often found in the highly gifted. Her 
 manner of coming before the audience and receiving 
 their applause is as striking as anything she does ; it 
 is her natural manner — it seems to acknowledge the 
 relation between herself and the public and the dignity 
 of her Art. Though different to all other singers, she 
 has less mannerism than others and beautiful and 
 peculiar as many of her notes are, the sentiments and 
 the intellect are her rarest gifts. In private she talks 
 little and is calm, gentle and firm without being hard 
 — delicate looking, yet you feel that she will never fail, 
 her general expression is melancholy but very various. 
 The Phrenology is very good; large veneration and 
 hope and ideality and firmness ; the pure head, large 
 perceptives. She impresses everybody and everybody 
 asks why? Fenelon's Essay on Simplicity conveys much 
 of her character. I pointed this out to Mrs. Stanley,' 
 who, with a very clever friend, confirms me in this. 
 
 ' Mrs. Stanley, wife of the Bishop of Norwich. 
 248 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 Mrs. S, also sees much of Consuelo in her — the national 
 differences being taken into account. 
 
 The audiences have been numerous and another con- 
 cert is given to-morrow at a lower price. The Bishop 
 has a party to-night, but we are pre-engaged — how- 
 ever I have seen her in private. I have learned much 
 that is new to me in nature and Art and confirmed 
 some points of belief. . . . 
 
 I have much more to tell you of the Artist but no 
 time. 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 H. G. 
 
 Wednesday Night. 
 
 Just returned from Dawson's Lecture on Cromwell, 
 and am greatly disappointed; . . . 
 
 Jenny Lind is much more to my taste. She said to 
 Mrs. S. " I came out 1 1 years ago on the 7th of March 
 — I rose one thing and went to bed another — I had 
 found my power." Mrs. Stanley did not for some 
 time understand her manner to them, but she has no 
 doubt it is the consequence of a feeling similar to that 
 she entertains for Royalty, since she never spoke to 
 her or the Bishop ' till spoken to, never sat down by 
 them till invited to do so. She always speaks of 
 " My Lord Bishop " with a respectful expression of 
 face. Mrs. S. has always been desirous to strengthen 
 her; the last morning she said to Jenny "You do not 
 know how much the Bishop has been blamed for in- 
 viting you here on the ist occasion of your visit to 
 Norwich; I tell you now, because you have vindicated 
 him." J. L. rephed, " I am glad you did not tell me 
 
 ■ Edward Stanley, U.D., Bishop of Norwich, 17 79- 1849. 
 249 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 before — it is only I who can vindicate him, and he 
 is quite safe," " but " she added " they were quite right, 
 for they, (meanmg people connected with the stage) 
 are very bad." She was most pleased with two young 
 girls who had never been from home, never heard a 
 concert, and who were remarkably simple and child- 
 like. Mrs. S. says everything that is truthful and pure 
 delights her. 
 
 It is evident that Anna had had some idea of 
 settling in Ireland, but the country was not pleasing 
 to her, and she was unfortunate in the moment 
 chosen for her visit, so soon after the disturbances 
 that had ravaged the country. One of her pleas- 
 antest experiences was a visit to the veteran Maria 
 Edgeworth.i 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 
 October loth. 
 
 My dear Charlotte, — 
 
 My week here has come to an end — it was to 
 have been only two days; but I have stayed on and 
 on not reluctant, for the truth is that I could not be 
 better off, nor could my time be better spent. I leave 
 the kind shelter of this house to-morrow and it may 
 be some days before I am able to write again. . . . 
 The weather is very cold ; intensely so ; and as there 
 is no means of travelling after I leave this but in open 
 cars — very slowly and the accommodation at the inns 
 as miserable as possible, I confess I shiver at the 
 thoughts of what I am to encounter physically, as well 
 
 ' Maria Edgeworth, 1 768-1849. 
 250 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 as morally. There is a terrible anxiety about the fate 
 of Smith O'Brien — his worst enemies hope he will not 
 be hanged; his best friends seem mthout a hope of 
 his being spared — and for myself I have not an idea 
 on what plea he can be spared, after braving the law 
 and the judge as he has done. . . . 
 
 Your affect. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 
 October i^th. 
 
 Dearest Mother and Sisters,— 
 
 ... I am rather better since I came here. 
 These excellent people live with great elegance, yet do 
 immense good. It is a charming domestic circle- 
 all ladies — but all remarkable for superiority. There 
 is old Mrs. Edgeworth, the widow of Miss Edgeworth's 
 father, the great woman herself, now 8i, and still full 
 of life and mental power ; Mrs. Francis Edgeworth, 
 the widow of the youngest son and mother of the heir 
 apparent. She is charming — a Spaniard by birth — 
 speaking the most beautiful English with a strong 
 foreign accent, very graceful and with the remains of 
 great beauty; her five children, four little boys and 
 a sweet little girl with the mother's Spanish eyes; two 
 elderly and most accomplished ladies, the Miss Beau- 
 forts', sisters of Admiral Beaufort, one of them the 
 authoress of that charming httle book, " Bertha's Visit 
 to her Uncle." You cannot wonder that I have suffered 
 myself to be persuaded to stay on from day to day — 
 more particularly that I have not been well. I go 
 from there to see Limerick— to visit Lord Rosse if he 
 be at home— to go south to the scene of the late dreadful 
 
 251 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 scenes and come round to Dublin by Newtown, 
 Mount Kennedy. 
 
 I do not expect either much pleasure or much profit 
 from this tour — but I can do it cheaply and may never 
 again have either the inclination or the opportunity 
 of seeing the country, which after all is our own. 
 
 The prospects for the winter are very bad. 
 
 Limerick, 
 
 October 28M. 
 
 . . . My last letter to you was from Edgeworths- 
 town, thence I went to Galway passing thro' a miserable 
 country and seeing much ; on my return I called at 
 the Dominican Convent of Esher to see an educational 
 institution, very well conducted. The old Monks would 
 not let me go that night, lodged me in the Priory and 
 oh ! how you would all have laughed to see me drinking 
 whiskey punch with the Reverend fathers 1 they having 
 voted me to the chair & elected me unanimously the 
 " Reverend Mother " of the brotherhood ! Well — next 
 day I came on to Ballinasloe, passing the seat of the 
 Daly's (Dunsandlej — he is ruined I hear, like most 
 other Irish landlords ; from Ballinasloe I came on 
 to Parson's Town to Lord Rosse's there (at Biz Castle) 
 I staid 2 nights & was charmed by Lord & Lady Rosse 
 & saw the awful Telescope & walked up and down in 
 it & saw thro' it a pin's point of light changed into 
 ten thousand thousand stars, each the centre of a uni- 
 verse. I believe there is a long account of this 8th 
 wonder of the world in the Illustrated News some where 
 — or the Atheneum — look in the Index for " Rosse " — 
 I left Biz castle & came on by Coach to one of the 
 stations on the Limerick Railway (near Maryborough) — 
 
 252 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 There I saw the most dreadful scene I think I ever 
 witnessed, the parting" of about 50 emigrants from their 
 relations ; the hoAviing, sobbing, shrieking of about 150 
 wretches, some of whom in their desperation almost 
 threw themselves under the wheels of the Engine, was 
 too much. I was obliged to go behind a wall & cry. 
 myself — but the fact is that such scenes occur every 
 day and ever}'- one who can go to America, goes at 
 once, for there is only starvation before them this 
 winter. 
 
 After her return home Anna kept up a vigorous 
 correspondence with Maria Edgeworth concerning 
 a " skreen," which the old lady had worked, and 
 which she wanted to present to one of her numerous 
 sisters ; another of her correspondents was her 
 sister-in-law, Mrs. Francis Edgeworth, with whom 
 she struck up a friendship. In this autumn the 
 artistic world was stricken with sincere sorrow at 
 the early death of Felix Mendelssohn, who was 
 greatly beloved in this country. 
 
 Henry Chorley to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 When I tell you that I have spent my morning 
 in mustering up my manhood to do the last offices by 
 poor Mendelssohn (of whose decease the papers will 
 have told you !) you will conceive that I am in no 
 case to go into the world in the evening, even to a 
 quiet tete-a-tete. I hardly think it possible to have the 
 
 253 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 nerves harder strained, and I must rest and be in 
 silence for a day or two — or I shall commit some inad- 
 vertence in the performance of the very duty which I 
 would fain complete with all my best powers. It is 
 bitter work to live on when such as he are stricken so 
 young. ... . ; 
 
 Faithfully yours 
 
 in deep sorrow, 
 
 Henry F. Chorley. 
 
 Mendelssohn died Nov. 4, 1847. Henry Chorley 
 and George Grote were among those who were 
 with him to the last. 
 
 Maria Edgeworth to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 
 November 17, 1848. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Your most cordially kind, affectionate, letter gave 
 me and all this family hearty pleasure. Your visit 
 here was most pleasing to us all; and has left the 
 most agreeable impression which can nevet be effaced 
 from any of our minds. We were very sorry when 
 you went away, and shall be very glad if it be ever 
 in your power to favor us with another and longer visit. 
 This we have no doubt that you will do if you can — 
 for we depend on your siacerity, as I trust you do on 
 ours — so no more about that. I have always believed 
 that great talents, or abilities or genius, by whatever 
 name we choose to call intellectual superiority, is — or 
 was naturally — originally — connected with what we call 
 
 254 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 good heart, kind, benevolent, feelings, that prompt to 
 all the social and moral virtues. I have found this to 
 be so in many instances, and as I grow old — and very- 
 old — it is delightful to find fresh instances and proofs 
 of my being in the right. Vanity, Vanity ! all may 
 be vanity in this, but not vexation of spirit. ... I 
 have yesterday received from Longmans a copy of your 
 beautiful book for which I wrote to him. I have only 
 had time to read the preface and the Introduction which 
 I like very much. All that they ought to tell us is 
 said, and " No more than just the thing it ought." 
 
 The etching, Mrs. E., (who is a judge) admires ex- 
 tremely — the wood cuts are of various merit— Altogether 
 it is a splendid looking publication & I have no doubt 
 will sell all the better for being a two guinea book. 
 But I am shocked to hear that you will be none the 
 better for it till the second Edtn. 
 
 How can that be? 
 
 The Puseyites will be delighted with the Legends 
 & Saints & Antiquarian lore and they are a vast class 
 of purchasers. 
 
 You ought to have i,ooo from them nett. 
 
 I have seen, by turning over the leaves, a vast deal 
 of curious information and such proofs of vast research 
 and indefatigue perseverance and discrimination of work 
 and judgment, as ought to bring you in another thousand 
 and canonize you into the bargain. 
 
 I hope I have made you smile at my folly — Believe 
 me with the kindest messages from Mrs. E. and the 
 Miss Beauforts, all of which I have not time to give, 
 dinner being on the table, 
 
 Yours truly affectionately, 
 
 Maria Edgeworth. 
 255 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 
 November 21, 1 848. 
 
 I am reading your book with admiration. I thank 
 you most sincerely for it. — It will be a book of refer- 
 ence, a standard book in all good libraries and a com- 
 panion to all Travellers who have any taste for the arts, 
 or any desire to obtain information now absolutely 
 necessary to both ladies and gentlemen in good 
 society, abroad and at home. What large classes of 
 readers are comprised in this view. As to your fame, 
 that is so secure that I am not thinking about it, my 
 Dr. Mrs. Jameson, but I am thinking of your having 
 some just, some lasting remuneration for the infinite 
 pains and labor you have gone through, these two years. 
 Pray do not part with your whole copy right — Make 
 what agreement you will, or may or must, about an 
 Edition or Editions — but do not part with your copy 
 right. Mrs. Marcet,' who is a person that understands 
 that sort of business better than either you or I, told 
 me how much she makes annually by having kept the 
 copy right of even children's little books — I have parted 
 with all mine and she pointed out to me how foolish I 
 had been. 
 
 Learn wisdom from my folly. 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 
 December 31, 1848. 
 
 Thank you for your kind cordial New Year's wel- 
 come. It came a day before the New Year but I 
 shall make it my New Year's pleasure by reading it 
 again to-morrow morning as soon as my eyes open. 
 I am glad you were pleased with your first visit 
 to my sister Honora and I hope your second and 
 ^ Jane Marcet, 1 769-1858. 
 256 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 your becoming acquainted with Sir Francis may have 
 been equally satisfactory. 
 
 With respect to the embroidery, I beg you will talk 
 to my sister about it and do whatever she likes. I 
 have written to her about it and begged her to tell 
 you her wishes. I very much wish that she should 
 have it if it be not a burthen or a de trop in her 
 drawing-room. If she really likes to have it (consult 
 her as to the rest) tell her whatever in your opinion 
 which would be the best mode of making it up (with- 
 out considering expense, because — between you and me 
 observe what follows) / can afford to have it done 
 handsomely in the course of the next 2 months and I 
 would rather delay a month than have it done shabbily 
 — or than not pay for it ready money and before it is 
 presented — it being a principle of mine never to make 
 an unpaid-for present. I could not enjoy the pleasure 
 of it. 
 
 Maria Edgeworth passed aw^ay on May 22, 1849. 
 
 Mrs. Francis Edgeworth to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Edgeworthstown, 
 May 25, 1849. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson, — 
 
 Your letter has been received with the same 
 warm feeling of affection that called it into existence. 
 Indeed I would have written, for you were in my 
 thoughts, but the fear that my letter might not reach 
 you, not having heard whether two I had written con- 
 taining the information you wished for concerning 
 National Schools, had ever come to your hands. — 
 
 257 ^ 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Miss Edgeworth's removal from us was so sudden 
 that we cannot yet realize that she is gone. — 1 was 
 only this day week out driving with her. She was 
 in very high spirits ; so high that when the carriage 
 stopped at the glebe we were obliged to wait enter- 
 ing into the house till the effervescence of our joy 
 should have subsided somewhat. She was taken ill 
 there two minutes after &' it was with difficulty I could 
 support her in the carriage back. She was in pain 
 for 5 hours after — & then she seemed much better — 
 I saw her at 1 2 o'clock at night & she appeared much 
 better. Again I saw her at six in the morning, when I 
 begged of her to see a physician. She wished me to 
 write to Dublin, which I accordingly did, but waited to 
 seal up my letter till I should see whether what she 
 had taken had any effect. She did not appear very 
 ill — her voice was strong — & she had no appearance 
 of danger even. I went to seal my letter, to give it 
 to the servant waiting to go off. My mother came 
 into my room saying, " My dear she is much better 
 & has desired me to go down and make breakfast. 
 She is sitting up in her bed." My mother had no sooner 
 disappeared, than Lynch — her little maid — rushed into 
 my room exclaiming " Mrs. Francis 1 " — I rushed into 
 Miss E's room. She fixed her eyes on me — spoke not 
 — stirred not — I saw the light of that intellectual eye in 
 an instant disappear — she was no more — Her spirit fled 
 to her Maker back again — leaving on her countenance 
 a sweet expression of love & peace — How dismal was 
 the chasm. — My dearest mother came into the room 
 almost immediately after 1 had, but too late to see 
 those eyes which never had looked on her but with 
 tender love. — Great, & deservedly great, as Miss E's 
 
 258 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 name is — I can never look upon her in that light — To 
 me she always appeared as a spirit of all that was 
 good, and never in any other light than a tender sister 
 & mother when nature, affection and congeniality of 
 tastes, had joined. Much, much, has fled with her, but 
 thank God I can feel even now what my husband 
 wrote on the tomb of our first child ! 
 
 " We brood upon the past, & not the less the coming 
 of the future do we bless." 
 
 I can no more now — but I hope to hear soon that 
 you have left your sick room — I had no idea of your 
 being ill. 
 
 Yrs aflly & truly, 
 
 Rosa Edgeworth. 
 
 Mrs. Whately to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Redesdale, 
 
 August 13, 1849. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jaivteson, — 
 
 . . . The Queen's visit has passed off admir- 
 ably. I was very doubtful of its results — but it has 
 given intense pleasure even to the lowest of the people 
 and that you will feel is not to be omitted as a 
 very important item under the head of advantages. 
 The Archbishop was summoned to be one of those 
 who were to go on board and welcome her so we 
 stayed here in order that all our people might go and 
 see the disembarkation. Such was their wild delight 
 in the prospect, that every one was off at an early 
 hour and my daughters and self were left with one 
 old man and woman who had not the physical 
 capabilities for such a spree. Her visit to the School 
 
 259 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 has been however the most useful thing she has done, 
 perhaps too the most beneficial to herself. The Arch- 
 bishop had been working at this but was in great 
 fear that it would not be accomplished. Suddenly, 
 however, an express came out and he and I and Mary 
 (poor dear Jane not strong enough) went to receive 
 her with the other Commissioners and conduct her 
 over the Schools. She heard a class of the boys 
 examined and did seem much interested. WTien she 
 got into her Carriage, all the children assembled under 
 their several porticoes with training masters and 
 mistresses and everybody who could claun any con- 
 nection with the Schools, and gave a cheer which rent 
 the skies. How awfully affecting, dear Mrs. Jameson, 
 is this union of human voices in the expression of one 
 great sentiment I It seems almost too sublime an 
 offering to suit any but that which has immediate 
 reference to the Great Father of us all. When the 
 Queen drove off there was one cheer for the Arch- 
 bishop which perhaps he deserved (I think) as well, 
 as mere mortal could. 
 
 The Archbishop and I were at Carton and there, 
 as well as the whole drive from Phoenix Park, her 
 Majesty, I am happy to say, saw groups of the most 
 naked and wretched looking of her subjects, but all 
 wild with glee. I had so feared that our whited 
 sepulchres in Dublin would conceal that which lies 
 within and give her a wrong impression of our state. 
 
 There were some Irish jigs danced by the Duke's 
 tenants which seemed to amuse her beyond measure. 
 
 However she was pleased to assure me, when I dined 
 at the Castle, that nothing had given her more satis- 
 faction than her visit to the Schools. . . . 
 
 260 
 
Ireland and Maria Edgeworth 
 
 I have written this from necessity at full speed, and 
 I feel scarcely in a way to be deciphered, but 1 felt 
 you would like to hear something of the Queen before 
 the subject grows cold. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 Eliza H. Whately.i 
 
 ^ Wife of the Archbishop of Dublin. 
 
 261 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 TRAVELS 
 
 Although nearly always in bad health, Anna was 
 still an inveterate traveller. 
 
 Avenue Paris des Champs Elys^es, 130. 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 Dearest Mother and Sisters, — 
 
 For your tranquility and not because I have as 
 yet anything to tell you, do I write. My journey was 
 altogether prosperous ; we had what is called a splendid 
 passage and so far from being at all ill — I felt well 
 and hungry (for the first time in my life in such a 
 situation) and eat my sandwiches on board — at 
 Boulogne I got well thro' the Custom House — com- 
 missionaire, porters and duties costing altogether about 
 5/- got a cup of coffee at Amiens and arrived at Paris 
 at a quarter before 11. Browning was at the station 
 to meet me — tea and supper waiting for me and all 
 affectionate and delightful — I have already arranged 
 my little room for working and went yesterday for two 
 hours to the Louvre, where I find an entirely new 
 and certainly improved arrangement^ — and on the 
 whole I am very well satisfied with the first appear- 
 ances of things. To crown my contentment it rained 
 last night in torrents ; much as we wanted rain in 
 
 262 
 
Travels 
 
 England it seems to have been more wanted here 
 and the Champs Elysees looks charming and verdant 
 this morning in comparison to what they did yesterday. 
 Madame de Triqueti—Madame Mohl— Mrs. Erskine, 
 Miss Stirling, Lady Eastlake' have called already — 
 and I hear all round of people who are, (in polite 
 phrase) " dying to make my acquaintance " — so I shall 
 probably have more society and amusements than I 
 care for. 
 
 May T^rd. 
 
 Dearest Mother and Sisters, — 
 
 Charlotte's letter of yesterday was a relief — I 
 was beginning to fancy it a long time since I had heard 
 anything of you and yet it is only ten days since I 
 left home ! It seems a month ! All last week I have 
 been very unwell — the rain (tho' so much wanted) 
 has chilled me — and now the rain has ceased and it 
 blows intensely cold. I do not go on with my work 
 as well as 1 ought to do and hope to do — for cer- 
 tainly I have here all possible aids and facilities. . . . 
 I might be very gay here. I have one dinner en- 
 gagement and 4 evening engagements for this week 
 — and have got into a nice set ; but certainly the 
 Brownings are more to me than any others and with 
 their society, 1 really wish for no other. 
 
 Paris, 
 
 May II, 1849. 
 Dearest Mother and Sisters, — 
 
 You will read in the paper a descripton of 
 the grand military fete yesterday - — but not that I 
 
 ^ Lady Eastlake, 1 793-1 865. 
 
 '^ Louis Napoleon held a review on the Champ de Mars in 
 May, 1849. 
 
 263 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 honoured the scene with my presence — which was the 
 case — .We were among the " uninvited strangers " — 
 — and got tolerable places — but I was utterly dis- 
 appointed and uninterested. It seemed to me very 
 like Astleys' Amphitheatre on an immense scale. 
 How they contrived with 70,000 soldiers, Arabs in 
 their costumes, Priests in their embroidered robes and 
 mitres — to produce a scene so little striking, or a 
 scene so theatrical — so the reverse of anything really 
 sublime, I don't know — perhaps it was only my 
 peculiar taste or want of taste, which made me so in- 
 different. The opening and the closing of our Chrystal 
 palace were both infinitely superior — merely as a 
 spectacle ; all the police regulations for ingress and 
 egress, for the convenience of the people and the 
 maintenance of order in the streets, were as bad as 
 possible and I thought my day a lost day, besides 
 being absolutely choked with dust. Farther than this 
 I have no news, so shall wait till to-morrow to finish 
 my letter. I have not yet got a new bonnet, nor any- 
 thing except some shoes and gloves ; but a bonnet I 
 must have. On the whole I am living very economically 
 and going on with my work ; the facilities here, both 
 for study and society, are far superior to anything 
 I can command in England on the same terms and, 
 on the whole, I do not feel inclined to return yet — 
 unless I am wanted. I am to dine to-day with 
 Madame de Triqueti — The vast influx of strangers and 
 the balls and theatres make Paris very gay ; I have 
 not yet been inside a theatre, in fact I have been 
 out to dinner, or in the evening, almost every day — 
 but I mean to go to see something some day. The 
 Champs Elysees are beautiful and the position of my 
 
 264 
 
Travels 
 
 room is very like one overlooking Hyde Park, only 
 more gay, populous and picturesque. . . . 
 
 Your affect. 
 
 A. J. 
 
 May, 1849. 
 Dearest Mother & Sisters, — 
 
 I know you will think of me tomorrow — & I 
 hope you will have a glass of wine or something better 
 in which to drink my health I shall drink yours & 
 my own in a glass of vin ordinaire. 
 
 I have had no events in my life since I wrote to you 
 last. I go on quietly — working — & going out almost 
 every evening — which agrees with me— tho I can not 
 say I am much amused unless there be Music. On 
 Saturday I was at the house of Ary Scheffer ' — the 
 greatest painter in France, on Sunday quietly with the 
 Brownings (who are better company than any I could 
 find abroad — last night at Lady Elgins where I met 
 the de Triquetis — Chapmans, Stewart Mackenzies & 
 other English, besides many French people. Tonight 
 a concert at Miss Stubings — 'tomorrow a party at Lady 
 Eastlake's, next day to the theatre — (the first time 
 since I came to Paris !) Friday party at Madame Mohl's 
 and Saturday, dinner party — so you see 1 am very 
 gay. I have bought (at last) a new bonnet — but never 
 put it on yet — & am very economical — I think 1 spend 
 less, on the whole, than in England. Gloves & cabs 
 are my chief expense. I wish I knew what you would 
 like me to bring from Paris ! Charlotte will tell you 
 what is to be had here pretty — but the truth is every 
 thing worth having is as good or better in England. 
 
 In 185 1 she was travelling again. 
 
 I Ary Scheffer, 1 795-1858. 
 265 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Mother and Sisters. 
 
 HOMBOURG. 
 
 August lO. 
 
 Dearest Mother & Sisters, — 
 
 You will expect some tidings of your wanderer 
 about this time and so I begin some account of myself. 
 I embarked at Dover on Tuesday morning at 1/26 ; 
 it began to rain and rained from that moment till 
 Thursday morning without ceasing. I slept at Malines 
 (Mechlin) intending to see some famous pictures there 
 but the rain came down in torrents, the sky was gloomy 
 & dark and tho' I was in the churches by ,| past 7, 
 I saw but little ; I was in the train again at 9 & 
 reached Cologne about 6, raining still & very difficult 
 to get a bed. Next morning went to the Bankers 
 for money & then to the Cathedral, where they have 
 lately put up the five splendid windows of stained glass, 
 the gift of the King of Bavaria ; each window is 
 50 feet high and painted with subjects from Scripture 
 — quite wonderful for beauty & magnificence. As I 
 went wandering about & spying, I lighted on a face 
 I remembered well — a lady — with a white cashmere 
 cloak hanging over her shoulders walking alone & a 
 retinue of attendants following ; it was my old friend 
 the G. Duchess of Weimar. I went up immediately 
 to her Lady in Waiting the Countess Fritsch, who 
 presented me to the G. Duchess ; the old lady really 
 looked glad to see me. I stooped to kiss her hand — 
 she kissed me on each cheek & said all manner of 
 gracious things. She invited me to join her party 
 & thus I saw all the curiosities of the Cathedral (the 
 jewellery and the things not usually shown, &' then 
 
 266 
 
Ott.1 
 
 i_ a^ dy 
 
 OTTILIE A LA COUR. 
 After an engraving. 
 
 To face p, 266, 
 
Travels 
 
 only for a very large fee) — gratis. As I had to go 
 on by the train, I took leave at the Church door and 
 went on to Bonn & from Bonn in an omnibus to 
 Mehlem, a beautiful country house just opposite to 
 Konigswinter under the Drachenfels ; here I found 
 Sybille Mertens looking out for me on the shore, ex- 
 pecting me by the steam boat. She had dinner ready 
 for me and after two hours spent with her I pro- 
 ceeded by the next boat to Coblentz ; it was raining 
 as if water spouts were let loose upon us and with 
 great difficulty I got a bed in a garret at the Zwei 
 Schweitzer. Next morning, however, I rejoiced in my 
 garret — the view over the Rhine and Mosel & Ehren- 
 breitstein was so lovely ; 1 went to see a famous old 
 church, breakfasted and then embarked on the boat for 
 Biberach where we arrived about | past 7 in the even- 
 ing. I met Mr. Lockhart on board, but the company 
 otherwise was disagreeable & the journey wearied me 
 — weather tolerable. 1 got to Frankfort on Friday 
 night at i i — found Ottilie arrived and gone to bed, 
 where she was reading, &, as you may believe, glad 
 to see me a day sooner than she had hoped. 
 
 My intentions are to remain here till Monday, then 
 rejoin Madame de Goethe at Frankfurt ; go down 
 the Rhine and spend a week with Sybille Mertens and 
 then go to Berlin with them, and then to Rosawitz, 
 and then to Vienna. . . . 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 
 My dearest Mother and Sisters,— 
 
 . . . We were two nights at Diisseldorf, where 
 I ordered some drawings & was greatly interested by 
 
 267 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 all I saw* Ottilie found there a charming family of 
 Cousins — Mr. Hasendever who has married the beauti- 
 ful daughter of the President of the Academy there, 
 Wilhelm Shadow — & they were full of hospitality and 
 attentions. W.e came on from Diisseldorf to Hausner, 
 where I rose early before the train started next morn- 
 ing" to look at the picturesque old city & then we 
 came on to Berlin — 400 miles in two days — wonderful 
 for German travelling — the expense was 11^- dollars, 
 about 36 shillings. Here I am surrounded with old 
 friends, & very much occupied in the Gallery, which 
 is full of most beautiful things, to me of the greatest 
 use and interest. I have a very delightful large room 
 in the Hotel de Rome— at 3s. 6d. a day, but Berlin is 
 dear on the whole. 
 
 Ottilie is with her mother and Sister. ... I pro- 
 pose to leave Berlin about the 5th of September for 
 Dresden, where I shall study for a few days in the 
 Gallery and Collections and then proceed to Rosawitz 
 bei Tetschen, Boheme, where you must direct all letters 
 written after the ist of September. Dear Mamma 
 and Dear Sisters farewell for the present, I must run 
 to the post with this, 
 
 Yours affect. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 P.S. ... I long to have some news of dear Geddie, 
 to whom my love ; send me the Daguerrotype of her 
 seated. 
 
 Vienna, 
 
 October 16, 1851. 
 
 My dearest Mother, Eliza and Charlotte,— 
 
 ... I left Rosawitz on the 6th of October and 
 remained six days at Prague, where there was much 
 
 268 
 
Travels 
 
 to interest me, and I had to wait till Madame Goethe 
 could get to Vienna before me, as she was obliged 
 to change her lodging. When I arrived on the 
 appointed day I found everything in the utmost possible 
 confusion ; she had just got into a new house beautifully 
 situated as to sun and air, but not so fashionable 
 nor so convenient as her last house. We shall get to 
 rights in time, but at present all is in a comical state of 
 disorder— ^jkrc^/7^ my room — which I found perfectly pre- 
 pared, even books and flowers on my writing table. 
 As soon as all is right, I shall begin my studies seriously, 
 for I have here every facility — four of the finest galleries 
 in Europe close at hand. With your letter came several 
 very interesting ; Geddie writes cheerfully — presses me 
 to go to Rome, but at present I do not think of it. 
 I have been moving, or on the move, ever since I left 
 home, and want a little rest. Lady Eyron tells me that 
 several reviews have appeared of my book — one in the 
 Examiner and one in the Art Journal ; have you seen 
 them? 
 
 Dresden, 
 
 September 25, 1850. 
 
 ... I had many delays at Berlin about drawings 
 etc. and at last when I was just ready to set off I 
 was delayed again by a most painful accident which 
 happened to Madme. de Goethe ; she fell in the street 
 and hurt herself most seriously. I remained with her 
 a few days till she was better and then came on here. 
 I found that Louisa Noel had just lost her father and 
 had gone from home to her family and that my parcel 
 was not come. I have therefore waited here ever since, 
 for to cross the Austrian frontiers without my books 
 
 269 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 and purchases would have cost time, trouble and money. 
 
 1 should have had to pay terribly and perhaps have 
 had disagreeable difficulties, I have therefore waited 
 on from day to day and my time has been profitably 
 and not unpleasantly spent. I have several German 
 friends here and plenty of English ones ; Noel came 
 from Rosawitz & spent two days with me. I have got 
 together many tracings, prints and drawings for my 
 new book. I met here the Countess Noltiz, whom I 
 had known in England, Monckton Milnes, who is very 
 polite and attentive, Mrs. Egerton Leigh, Lady Ash- 
 brooke and, above all, the poor Beauforts. . . . 
 
 Dresden is a beautiful city — it has nothing of the 
 splendour and size of Berlin, but the situation is every 
 thing. Noel has taken a beautiful set of rooms — six 
 of them are as large as Cam's drawing room — and 3 
 servants rooms — the rent (unfurnished) is 3o£ a year. 
 The droskeys, like our cabs, take you to any part of 
 the town for 4^d. (4 groschen), or 13d. an hour if 
 kept waiting ; you may have a nice open carriage and 
 
 2 horses, dickey behind, for twice the sum. Provisions 
 are very cheap ; the hotels are so crowded that I had 
 some difficulty in getting into one. I am at the Hotel 
 d'Europe which looks out on the great Market place, 
 very gay and have a nice room with bed, sopha, writing 
 table, all very comfortable for 2s a day ; dinner i-6d 
 — breakfast yd. There is a good theatre and near it 
 a terrace overhanging the Elbe and planted with trees, 
 where it is the fashion to sit at a table and drink your 
 coflfeTC or eat ice. ... I have had a pleasant letter 
 from Geddie and hear constantly from Lady B. and 
 sometimes from Mrs. Procter ; . . . I have just finished 
 the 3rd. volume of David Copperfield and am enchanted 
 
 270 
 
Travels 
 
 with it, so get it at once ; I will send the £5 in the 
 beginning of December. It is a pleasure to send a 
 little sum now and then to give pleasure and increase 
 comforts. ... 
 
 Vienna, 
 
 December 12th. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 ... I am rather low spirited for Mad. de 
 Goethe has been ill for the last ten days, has kept her 
 bed and I see no probability of her rising from it for 
 ten days longer, so it is hkely to be for me a melan- 
 choly Christmas. As soon as I can leave her with any 
 comfort to myself I shall turn my face homewards, but 
 shall spend a week or two with the Noels on my way. 
 I had a letter from Gerardine ; and Wolf von Goethe 
 being now at Rome I hear of her incidentally and all 
 very pleasant. 
 
 Vienna, 
 
 December 19, 1850. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 I am really out of heart to have not a word from 
 home for more than a month. The last letter is dated 
 the 1 2th of November. I comfort myself with thinking 
 — as you desired I should — that no news is good news — 
 from home— but in spite of that, I am not comfortable 
 and if I do not hear before the 25 th, my Christmas 
 will be anything but merry. 
 
 I have no news for you of any kind— for poor Mad de 
 Goethe has kept her bed since the ist of this month 
 & I see no hope of her rising from it before Xmas. 
 Day. She is better, but the Weihnacht is such an 
 important solemnity in this country that she quite frets 
 
 271 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 to be withheld from it. Her room is like a shop this 
 morning with all the pretty things prepared for her 
 friends ; what is for me is of course kept a profound 
 secret. I have to make presents of course, but when 
 
 1 changed my 2o£ circular note the other day, I received 
 a sum equivalent to £26-103., so enormously high was 
 the value of EngHsh paper— (it has since fallen nearly 
 the half, so that my note would to-day be worth about 
 
 2 4£.) I can therefore afford a few presents, and the 
 servants are so zealous and every one so kind, I give 
 heartily. This has been a sad three weeks — for I had 
 no wish to go any where — so invitations & opera 
 boxes were all wasted. Ottilie will be better soon I 
 hope and if not able to go out, we shall have society 
 at home. If she goes on well, I shall leave Vienna about 
 the 1 5 of January & turn my face homewards — but I 
 shall probably spend a week or two with the Noels on 
 my way. 
 
 This is but a shabby letter, but my life has been 
 really a blank for a long time. I hope dearest Minnie 
 will have a table full on Christmas day and so God 
 bless all, prays your aft'te. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Vienna, 
 
 January i, 185 1. 
 
 The new year would bring me no good luck if I 
 did not begin it with sending my love & duty to my 
 dearest Mother. I feel sure that you, dearest precious 
 Minnie, will think of me to-day & that I shall have 
 your blessing and that all of you will give me a thought. 
 I long to know how you passed the Xmas day — where 
 you dined together— & every thing in short even to the 
 
 272 
 
Travels 
 
 dimensions of the plum pudding. This has been to 
 me here a melancholy month — I had Charlotte's (or 
 Eliza's?) letter on Christmas day which was a great 
 comfort. The Christmas Eve, called in Germany the 
 Weihnacht or Holy night, is a great festival and there 
 is always an exchange of presents called a Bescherung ; 
 my Bescherung was quite splendid — such books & prints 
 & quantities of pretty things, I had to give many things, 
 presents to the servants &c — so that on the whole it was 
 rather expensive. Madme. de Goethe is recovering 
 slowly — she was in her bed on Christmas day ; she 
 had got up the night before to arrange my table & 
 cover it with the presents from herself & those sent 
 for me and this caused a sort of relapse, but she is 
 now up again & I hope will go on well. I have gone 
 no where of course — but remained at home with her — 
 Walter Goethe, who is at Rome, sends very agreeable 
 notices of Geddie. The news from the booksellers 
 is encouraging, 900 copies is an immense sale & if it 
 goes on so there will be a new Edition wanted very 
 soon. That will be profitable — the profits on this first 
 Edition will be as before trifling. I hear of nothing 
 but approbation — I have just reed, a letter from Lady B. 
 who is at Brighton. 
 
 My dear Charlotte will you do something for me? 
 Will you, the next time you are in town, get into the 
 Hampstead omnibus & pay a visit to Mrs Joanna & Mrs 
 Agnes '? Take my love & all kind wishes to the dear 
 Venerable Ladies and say that I hope to see them again 
 in a few weeks. . . . Adelaide Procter has become 
 a Roman Catholic and I hear of others in the same 
 road. . . . 
 
 * Joanna Baillie was then ninety. She died during the year. 
 
 273 S 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 ... I shall turn my face homewards about the 
 20th., but my journey will last perhaps a month or 
 six weeks. I shall spend some time at Dresden and at 
 Weimar on the way, for I have something to do for 
 my new book which cannot be done so well in England 
 and here I am very idle ; there are so many inter- 
 ruptions, and Ottilie has been a great anxiety to me 
 for the last few weeks. 
 
 Dresden, 
 
 February 4, 1851. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 I have received here your letter containing the 
 letter from Mr. Jameson. ... As to the enclosure, 
 the first letter I have had from him for 7 years, it 
 is very disagreeable and confirms, I am sorry to say, 
 all the reports I have heard of his habits of drinking ; 
 it is so confused ; I cannot well make it out clearly, 
 but he says that, from considerations of health, he is 
 obliged to resign the chancellorship ; he says he has 
 been promised a retiring pension but is in doubt whether 
 he shall get it. 
 
 In 1 8 5 I Anna was granted a pension by Queen 
 Victoria, chiefly through the efforts of the Procters, 
 Thackeray, and Lord Stanley of Alderley. This 
 addition to her income was most acceptable, as 
 she appears to have been dependent on what she 
 made, and on the somewhat uncertain remittances 
 from Canada, to support her mother and sisters 
 as well as herself. In this year she was busy with 
 
 a Catalogue of the Sculpture exhibited in the 
 
 274 
 
Travels 
 
 Crystal Palace at the first Great Exhibition. She 
 kept up a lively correspondence with her friends 
 as usual. 
 
 From Samuel Coleridge ' there are two letters, 
 in one of which he says :— 
 
 Will you return the H. C.^ Poems by the 
 Bearer. I was much gratified and interested by your 
 note. 
 
 Mr. H. C. Robinson tells me that he never knew 
 Hartley's genius before and that the book has raised 
 him infinitely in his mind. Yet Mr. Wordsworth and 
 my Uncle Southey both thought as much of his genius 
 as any can think of it now. Alas ! I cannot read 
 quietly, even yet. I was ever expecting to make by 
 children known to him. 
 
 Yours most sincerely, dear Mrs. Jameson, 
 
 Sam. Coleridge. 
 
 Harriet Groie to Anna Jameson. 
 
 39, Devonshire Place, 
 
 Wed'- 8— 1852. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I enclosed your note to Mrs. Browning to her 
 sister Mabel, to be forwarded by the first convenient 
 opportunity. 
 
 The Brownings left London about the middle of 
 October, 1 shd say, for Paris, where they stayed a 
 
 ^ Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834. 
 2 Hartley Coleridge, 1 796-1 849. 
 
 275 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 fortnight to settle old Mr. Browning and his daughter, 
 who are residing together at Paris. During their stay 
 there they witnessed the triumphant entry of that 
 scampish Adventurer, surrounded by his military, into 
 Paris — after his return from that tour. 
 
 That he may be a very useful Governor for France, 
 in their present unhappy state, I do not deny — But how 
 dear Ba ' can manufacture an Enthusiasm for him — on 
 the basis of free Election — an Election by the interested 
 and the ignorant I do not so well understand, yet in 
 her last note to me she groans under the tyranny at 
 Florence. I never talk politics with her, considering 
 her fine intellect demented, as you say in Scotland, on 
 that point. They are in Casa Guidi — happy to be there 
 — after a rude journey over Mont Cenis which increased 
 her cough sadly, but they rested on their way — a week 
 at warm Genoa — which nearly restored her. But when 
 she wrote, her attentive husband was dosing her with 
 Cod's liver oil — which does not imply perfect 
 restoration. 
 
 If they succeed in letting their house (which has, 
 during their absence, cleared its expenses, and looks 
 all the better, she says, for the letting) they propose to 
 pass the winter or part of it at Rome. He finds 
 Florence very still after the cheerful bustle of the 
 Boulevard — and she confesses to the fact, other things 
 being equal, health and expenses, they would both, I 
 perceive, prefer Paris . 
 
 Yesterday I dined in a party of four with the Booths 
 — Miss Bay ley being the fourth. They had been pre- 
 viously passing two days with me at VVim^°". We 
 were all sorry to hear that you are still, in matter of 
 
 ' Mrs. Barrett Browning. 
 276 
 
Travels 
 
 health, below par. .Why should you have these 
 " virgin " fears and tremblings about your Madonnas? ' 
 You always succed in all but getting as much profit 
 as you deserve. 
 
 The Procters are as usual, Mrs. Sartoris at Rome;, 
 Mrs. Fanny Kemble is, I learn, to go there. 
 
 ^ "Legends of the Madonna," published 1852. 
 
 277 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MILESTONES 
 
 The year 1852 was one of varied experiences to 
 Anna. She was living with her sister, Mrs. 
 Sherwin, in Bruton Street, where she collected 
 round her an interesting society now recruited from 
 the ranks of the rising generation as well as from 
 those of older friends. Her literary work was uni- 
 formly successful, and she was much sought after 
 by all who knew her and by many who only knew 
 her through her books. On the other hand, she had 
 many anxieties. The news from Canada was dis- 
 quieting, financial concerns were complicated ; 
 worse than all, clouds were gathering over the 
 horizon of a friendship that had meant to her more 
 than any other human interest. For some time 
 past she had been conscious of a change in her 
 relations to Lady Byron, and had not scrupled to 
 tell her so. The two had had stormy interviews 
 over a certain debt contracted by Ottilie to Robert 
 Noel ; it appears to have been for quite a small 
 sum, but perhaps the principles involved created 
 
 a difference of opinion. Lady Byron was, at that 
 
 278 
 
Milestones 
 
 time, anxiously watching the progress of the fatal 
 illness that threatened the life of her only child, 
 from whom she had been estranged, but to whom 
 she was now reconciled, and she was not in a 
 humour to throw herself into outside questions. 
 Little by little, this child, the " Ada, sole daughter 
 of my house and heart " of Byron's poem, became 
 herself an object of dispute ; she was, indeed, the 
 unwitting cause of the dispute that finally sepa- 
 rated the two friends. 
 
 Augusta Ada Byron had married the First Earl 
 of Lovelace in 1835; she was a clever woman with 
 a taste for mathematics and a passion for gambling. 
 In 1842, Lady Lovelace had translated and anno- 
 tated Menabrea's " Notices sur la Machine Ana- 
 litique de Mr. Babbage," a solid piece of work 
 that did not prevent her from being a well-known 
 figure in society. Extreme in all things, as befitted 
 a child of Byron, she was attacked by the scandal- 
 mongers of the day, and all sorts of reports were 
 spread concerning her. Anna Jameson was sin- 
 cerely attached to this brilliant creature, with whom 
 she stayed from time to time, and she became most 
 indignant as these reports gained credence. It is 
 evident from Lady Byron's letters that she resented, 
 not only this championship, but also the fact that 
 her daughter had given her confidence more com- 
 pletely to her friend than to herself. After Ada's 
 death, on November 27, 1852, her body was placed, 
 
 by her desire, beside that of her father in the vault 
 
 279 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 at Hucknall Torkard, and a monument was erected 
 to her, with an inscription written by herself, in 
 the churchyard at Kirkby Mallory. The two letters 
 given below are the only ones preserved of all those 
 wi-itten by Lady Byron to Mrs. Jameson during 
 their long intimacy. There is a tone of finality in 
 them that suggests Byron's well-known lines to his 
 wife :— 
 
 " Serenely purest of her sex that live 
 But wanting one sweet weakness — to forgive." 
 
 Brighton, 
 
 January 23, 1854. 
 
 When I received your letter, I was on the point of 
 writing to ask how your Mother was, not having heard 
 since the Noels left me. Though I declined to make 
 use of your kind offers in regard to my Daughter's 
 Monument, & to the Robertson concerns, I do not 
 see what that has to do with mutual good-offices in 
 matters which are wholly unconnected with either and 
 the fact that I had accepted other proofs of your good- 
 will since the time when we differed on certain points, 
 gave me a right to expect that you would permit me to 
 render any trifling services in return. 
 
 Your habit of fixing your attention exclusively on 
 some particular passage in my letters, apart from the 
 context, or from previous communications, is the cause 
 of your doing grievous wrong both to yourself and 
 me. By thus selecting certain words, you deceive your- 
 self as much as any one else would be deceived by 
 such a representation. 
 
 280 
 
Milestones 
 
 You say " Be just," as if I had been unjust ! My 
 justice towards you has been Gratitude — How could 
 it be otherwise when you, who could so often command 
 the first place in the regard of others, were generously 
 content, as you have told me, with the second in mine? 
 But our differences are not, I believe, personal. They 
 depend at least more upon my being unable to acquiesce 
 in some of your views on general questions. Would 
 you have me say I think these right when I do not?— 
 Would you have me concur in them when put into 
 practice by you? — Would such a course be more faithful 
 to friendship than to truth?— Of this be assured, that 
 I should live to see my error, it will be a far less effort 
 to me to acknowledge it than to maintain an opmion 
 contrary to yours, especially when I think of you as 
 watching by a death-bed.' — In that sorrow I offer my 
 deep sympathy, dear Mrs. Jameson 
 
 Yours faithfully 
 
 A. I. Noel Byron. 
 
 Brighton, 
 
 February 13, 1854. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I must trouble you with the correction of a 
 date, of some importance to Truth. 
 
 You say, " I never believed your feelings alienated 
 from me, TILL you told me they were." 
 
 Now, on the contrary, in the close of the year 1852, 
 when my whole being was so absorbed that I could 
 not have borne any added excitement or agitation, & 
 whilst you were accusing me of being false to friend- 
 ship, I maintained that I was " as ever your friend " 
 —This passed in writing, for we did not then meet, 
 ' Mr. Murphy died January, 1854. 
 281 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 owing, as I told you, to the peculiar circumstances of 
 my position. 
 
 The year following, in Dover St. you drove me, by 
 your persevering attacks, to, say something about 
 " alienation " — but if you would look to facts, my sub- 
 sequent intercourse with you, my visits in your society, 
 would shew how far that word was from being 
 verified — 
 
 You tell me you have " shielded the memory of 
 Lady Lovelace from the cruel world." If the world is 
 cruel, let it alone. If the " Repentance " which is 
 now by her own direction & in her own words, inscribed 
 on the Monument to her at Kirkby Mallory, cannot 
 disarm the Pharisees, they must be left to convince 
 themselves. Your reiterated expressions of Forgiveness 
 — in fact so many accusations, might need Forgiving, 
 if I were not in so many respects, still your Debtor, & 
 in spite of yourself, always so truly 
 
 Your friend 
 
 A. I. N. B. 
 
 The monument alluded to by Lady Byron is a 
 cenotaph bearing this inscription :— 
 
 Inscribed by the express direction of 
 Ada Augusta Lovelace, 
 Born December lo*'^ 1816, died November 27/'' 1852, 
 To recall her memory. 
 
 And the prayer of faith shall save the sick. 
 And the Lord shall raise him up ; 
 And if he have committed sins. 
 They shall be forgiven him. 
 282 
 
THE COUNTESS OF LOVELACE, IICC 
 AUGUSTA ADA BYRON. 
 
 From a daguerreotype. 
 
Milestones 
 
 Bow down in hope, in thanks all ye that mourn 
 
 Where'er this peerless arch of radiant hues, 
 
 Surpassing earthly tints, the storm subdues 
 
 Of Nature's smiles and tears. 'Tis heaven-born 
 
 To soothe the sad, the sinning, and forlorn ; 
 
 A lovely loving token to inspire 
 
 The hope, the faith, that Power divine endues 
 
 With latent good the woes by which we're torn. 
 
 'Tis like a sweet repentance of the skies, 
 
 To beckon all by sense of sin opprest. 
 
 Revealing harmony from sin and sighs ; 
 
 A pledge that deep implanted in the breast 
 
 A hidden light may burn that never dies 
 
 And bursts through storms in purest hues exprest. 
 
 After both Lady Byron and Mrs. Jameson had 
 passed away, a controversy, raged about v^^hat is 
 known as the "Byron Scandal." Mrs. Beecher 
 Stowe's ' article, intended to vindicate Lady Byron, 
 contained facts which were said to have been sup- 
 plied to her by Anna ; one of the supporters of 
 this view being Hayward, the " serpent," whose 
 propensity to gossip has been noticed before. 
 Anna's surviving sisters indignantly denied the truth 
 of this assertion. 
 
 The death of her mother was a great blow to 
 Anna ; and the end of her friendship with Lady 
 Byron, which was almost like another death, so 
 sudden and complete was the severance of all ties, 
 made this time one of great mental suffering. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Beecher Stowe, ?iee Harriet Beecher, i8i 2-1888. 
 
 283 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 In this year Robert Jameson died, having re- 
 signed the Chancellorship the year before, owing 
 to ill-health. In her letters, Anna alluded to his 
 habits of intemperance, and she appears to have 
 been anxious as to his mental condition. After his 
 death it was announced that he had left all his 
 money to a woman whose name she then heard for 
 the first time. On October 20, 1854, she wrote to- 
 
 Ottilie : "Mrs. M , to whom the property 
 
 is left, is a married woman who has a husband 
 living ; for the sake of money he has permitted an 
 intimacy. The Will, in which no mention is made 
 of Mr. Jameson's brothers and sister, was written a 
 few hours before his death, and his hand Jield and 
 guided while he wrote." 
 
 Sir Edwin Landseer ' to Anna Jameson. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I have the pleasure to thank you for a few old 
 friendly lines though they touch on the recent melan- 
 choly event, recalling old days and a cluster of sad 
 recollections and I receive your sign of life with a 
 tranquillity that experience in sorrow alone gives. There 
 is one syllable — time ! (not always a pitiless master 
 with some natures). Old time is like indiarubber, rubs 
 out the hard lines ; you touch up and like the picture 
 better, even fancy it improved ! Unfortunately I have 
 a tender memory — associations with poor Jameson lead 
 to endless pathos ! but as I would rather guide you to 
 
 ' Sir Edwin Landseer, 1802- 1873. 
 284 
 
Milestones 
 
 sunshine than sadness — I beg you tell me when do 
 you come back to our village? I wish I was with you 
 at Braten. It is rather hard to give up Highland holi- 
 days — but occupation and work are good friends. 
 
 Yours sincerely 
 
 E. Landseer. 
 
 When the contents of her husband's will were 
 known, Anna's faithful friends collected a sum 
 sufficient to buy an annuity of £ioo a year, and 
 Mrs. Procter presented her with a purse containing 
 £70 surplus. Anna was deeply moved on that 
 occasion and wrote to Mrs. Procter : " Dear friend, 
 how I love you, not only for what you have done, 
 but for the consummate judgment and delicacy 
 with which you have done it ! I am now taken 
 out of the slavery of booksellers and bookmakers 
 which I so hated and feared, and my sisters are 
 safe." 
 
 During her latter years Anna was much en- 
 grossed in public service work. In 1855 she 
 lectured on " Sisters of Charity Abroad and at 
 Home"; in 1856 on "Communion of Labour." 
 
 She had made exhaustive studies on these sub- 
 jects, and had stayed in Paris on one occasion with 
 the object of visiting the hospitals directed by the 
 Sisters of Charity. She was unable to go into 
 society just then, being in the hands of an unskilful 
 
 dentist. 
 
 285 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Rue des Saints Peres, 55. 
 
 I am unable at present to go into society — amuse 
 myself in a lonely sort of way as well as I can. I 
 went yesterday to one of the great hospitals here which 
 is under the direction of 25 Sisters of Charity. I never 
 saw anything more perfect — Each Sister has the control 
 and management of a ward (or Salle). In the men's 
 wards each Sister has one female and two male Assis- 
 tants or Ser\'ants — in the Female Wards each Sister has 
 two women and one man as Servants. I found 612 
 patients all clean, airy, cheerful and comfortable, ex- 
 ceeding anything I have ever seen in England. This 
 hospital is quite new and has only existed 1 8 months — 
 between pictures, hospitals, and churches I contrive 
 to get on. There is nothing to say of myself 
 except that I just go on studying in the Galleries, 
 making enquiries and observations about the Charitable 
 Orders. What you say of Mr. Railton's approbation 
 is very pleasant and I hope something may be done, 
 but, when I see the mass of uneducated or half edu- 
 cated women crying out for employment for which they 
 have not been fitted by training or reflection, I am 
 almost in despair. . . . 
 
 As I am, in my present condition, unable to go into 
 society, my friends supply me with books and I read 
 a great deal, but the heat is dreadful and keeps me 
 from the theatres, which otherwise would be a great 
 resource. I continue well and take great care of 
 myself. , . . 
 
 Love to all 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Anna. 
 286 
 
Milestones 
 
 During the year 1853 many old friends were 
 seen, including Harriet Martineau, now completely 
 cured owing to mesmeric treatment. There is a 
 note from her declining an invitation on the grounds 
 that she is going to Drury Lane " to see the horse- 
 riding— a sight I am absurdly fond of." From Tom 
 Taylor, engaged on his " Life of Haydon," come 
 many notes concerning the difficulties to be over- 
 come by a conscientious biographer. / 
 
 Tom Taylor ' to Anna Jameson. 
 
 The General Board of Health, Whitehall, 
 
 April 10, 1853. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Thank you very much for your remarks on 
 Haydon's autobiography. Your feeling about the 
 character of this man agrees very much with my o\vn. 
 
 You see, as I do, how impossible it is to make a 
 hero of such a personage and the only other alternative 
 is to make a complete portrait as far as any man's 
 own materials can be turned to that purpose — for after 
 all, the utmost that can be produced will be a portrait 
 of the painter from his own point of view. This is 
 what I shall aim at. It will be necessary, therefore, 
 in an introduction to make the public feel this, and 
 to express, as I best can, the conclusions I have had 
 forced upon me in compiling the book. 
 
 Had I known what the task I have undertaken was, 
 I should certainly have declined it. I send you the 
 continuation as far as revised. 
 
 ' Tom Taylor, 181 7-1880. 
 287 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 I do not expect that my comedy will be out before 
 the theatre closes for a summer cleaning in June or 
 July. They have Browning's " Colombe's Birthday " in 
 rehearsal. Perhaps my piece will be the next month 
 after that. 
 
 Ever yours 
 
 T. Taylor. 
 
 John Gibson to Anna Jameson. 
 
 September 27, 1853. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I thank you for receiving my engraved designs 
 with your gracious sentiments and good nature. I shall 
 always value yr. opinions, for you have given to the 
 world proofs of yr feeling and judgment in art ; feel- 
 ing is a gift from nature, Judgment is confined to a 
 few — to those only who have contemplated deeply — 
 examined the greatest works — conversed with the 
 greatest artists — read the best works and with a nature 
 gifted. You and I know what is necessary to be a 
 Judge on art. 
 
 The Gentlemen who form themselves into Committees 
 to select the best models for public monts. are not 
 aware of all that is necessary to enable them to do their 
 duty to the public ; the result is bad, public works in 
 England are very feeble, no power, wanting in know- 
 ledge. Chantrey's ' statues are the best, but his 
 draperies are always bad, tasteless and heavy. Sculp- 
 ture in England will never rise until the Govt, send to 
 Rome young men of talent to study for 7 years. 
 
 ' Sir Francis Chantrey, 1781-1842. 
 288 
 
Milestones 
 
 The rich in this country rarely order sculpture for 
 beauty's sake ; the only chance left for the English 
 sculptor is the monumental and that only scope is des- 
 troyed by the matter-of-fact narrow ideas of the taste- 
 less Committees who pronounce Judgments upon the 
 models for public works. 
 
 The Tailor Sculptor can have only one pleasure; 
 how much profit does this job bring? He follows his 
 trade, has his newspaper scribbler to puff him up and 
 hopes to make his fortune. Chantrey succeeded, but 
 has left posterity nothing more than busts — not of 
 beautiful women. When he came to Rome he said 
 to me — Rome is enough to spoil you or any sculptor : 
 —he said to a friend of mine. " I have made a 
 fortune without going to Rome." So he did. 
 
 I have been invited three times by committees to 
 send them designs in competition for public works. 
 I said to a great lady that I declined the honor : she said, 
 certainly, you cannot enter into competition with any 
 EngUsh sculptor — and she said, I hope you will infuse 
 some of yr classic feeling into the statue of Sir R. 
 Peel. 
 
 If I had been ordered to represent the matter-of- 
 fact I should have declined and given up the Job. 
 What a fat job it Avould have been to some one of 
 the money making sculptors, no less that £5,250. Sir 
 Richard Westmacott ' said to me, what a lucky dog 
 you have been ! — no more than £2,000 has ever been 
 voted for a public monument consisting of one single 
 statue in rnarble. 
 
 The corporation of London invited me to send them 
 
 ' Sir Richard Westmacott, 1 775-1856. 
 
 289 T 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 a design for a Mon*- to the Duke of Wellington ' in 
 competition and I declined the honor. 
 
 One day at the Abbey, a respectable common look- 
 ing man turned round to his companions when staring 
 at the Peel and said to them — " Thats a right down 
 good likeness." Sir C. Eastlake said that the dress 
 did not obscure the likeness, that the man did not at 
 the first moment think of the Costume. I told this 
 incident to Sir C. 
 
 I hope we shall meet at Rome this winter ; about 
 the end of this month, I am off. 
 
 I am. My dear Mrs. Jameson, 
 
 ever sincerely yours 
 
 John Gibson. 
 
 The Hotible. Mrs. Norton - to Anna Jameson. 
 
 3, Chesterfield Street, 
 
 April 12, 1854. 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 BeUeve me — tho' we have not met of late years 
 — I set too high a value on your invisible self, to 
 have refused you a book of mine — even were the request 
 reluctantly complied with. 
 
 But it is not. I print 'privately' because I do 
 not choose the history of these miserable battles of 
 Home to be bought and sold in shops; but I have 
 printed a great number of copies, and I have made 
 the line of distribution merely thus : — My own personal 
 friends, Lord Melbourne's family & friends — and such 
 men in either House of Parlt. as I believe interest 
 
 ^ The monument was executed by Alfred Stevens, and is now in 
 St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 ^ The Hon. Mrs. Norton, nee Sheridan, 1808- 187 7. 
 
 290 
 
Milestones 
 
 themselves in reforms of the law, for to that I look. 
 Personally justified I may be by the narrative part, but 
 of what service can that be, now? youth and the 
 struggling time are over. 
 
 I leave then, to your discretion, five copies. I should 
 like Mr. Kemble (our old friend) to have one — He is 
 deaf, & anything to read that might give him an hour's 
 interest is good. 
 
 I am obliged to leave England again for the summer, 
 to meet my sons in Italy; then to Vienna where the 
 elder is attached to the Embassy. I go on Saturday, 
 by way of France. 
 
 If ever in this session anything is attempted in the 
 way of such' reforms, as I desire to see made, do not 
 refuse your pen, or your mind, in aid of an ungtateful 
 subject, — (far different from the beautiful aesthetic writ- 
 ings which occupy you in general — ) but try to help 
 the cause which you know, also, to be one which cries 
 for justice in so many other destinies ; where there is 
 not the gift of words to make injustice publicly 
 known. 
 
 Yours very truly 
 
 C. Norton. 
 
 In December 1854, Adelaide Procter's first 
 poem appeared in HouseJiold Words, an inci- 
 dent of more than common interest to Anna, who 
 had preserved many of her girlish efforts of earlier 
 years. One of the poems kept among the letters, 
 which is copied out in Adelaide's own handwriting, 
 is interesting, as it differs considerably from the 
 
 published version. 
 
 291 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 MINISTERING ANGELS. 
 
 Angels of light I bow your bright wings to earth, 
 In the still morn, 
 
 Nor in the starry eve, nor deep midnight, 
 Leave me forlorn 1 
 
 From each false spirit and unholy power, 
 
 Guard my weak heart ; 
 
 Circle around me in each perilous hour, 
 Nor e'er depart ! 
 
 From all ungentle thoughts and bad intents, 
 
 Keep me secure ; 
 Teach me hope, patience and (whate'er befall). 
 
 Still to endure I 
 
 Nor lonely in the paths of this sad world, 
 Let my feet stray, 
 
 Guide and sustain me with your angel hands, 
 In my dark way. 
 
 Leave me not lone to struggle with the world. 
 Whilst here I roam. 
 
 And at the end, with your bright wings unfurled. 
 Oh ! take me home ! 
 
 Adelaide. 
 
 One of the most interesting acquaintances at this 
 date was Mrs. Gaskell,' the novelist, whose " Ruth " 
 appeared in 1853. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Gaskell (Elizabeth Stephenson), 1810-1865. 
 292 
 
Milestones 
 
 27, WoBURN Square, 
 
 Saturday morning. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Thank you very much for the gracious and kind 
 manner in which you have acceded to my (half impu- 
 dent) request. / shall value your note to me in a 
 higher and better way than as an autograph. I will 
 tell you what I plan to do on Monday. I plan to go 
 as early as I can, after breakfast, to bid the Carlyles 
 goodbye. I really want to see them, so I shall go to 
 Chelsea very early, say at ^ past 9, and come back 
 to town via Montpelier Square in Brompton, where an 
 old lady lives whom I wish to see. Do you think this 
 could be done before 12? I should much like to see 
 you again, but the great distances of London are such 
 a bewilderment to me, that I hardly know how long 
 this expedition will take me. At any rate believe me, 
 dear Mrs. Jameson, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 II, Princes Terrace, 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 ... I have got out two used catalogues of the 
 Louvre for you, 1854, both. I shall leave them with 
 Mrs. James, if I am not so fortunate as to see you. 
 Mr. Gaskell sends me word of your kindness about that 
 lecture, respecting which I took a warm interest, and 
 which is now amplified, is it not? I am truly obliged 
 to you for giving it to me and so imparting a double 
 value to it. I read (not my copy, it is at Mrs. Wedg- 
 wood's) the day after it came out, and I particularly 
 
 293 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 thanked you for the broad basis you had taken for your 
 noble and true ideas. Beheve me ever, dear Mrs. 
 Jameson, 
 
 Yours very truly and gratefully 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 You don't know the good you have done me in your 
 life-time, so I have a right to honour myself by sign- 
 ing " gratefully." 
 
 Plymouth Grove, 
 
 March "ifh. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 I meant, and I meant to thank you for your 
 letter, and if I could, without telling you what had 
 become of it ; for every day I have been hoping it 
 would be restored to me. Oh dear ! Do you know it 
 is lost 1 along with several other valued and comfort- 
 ing letters about Ruth ; while every letter of repro- 
 bation and blame comes to me, straight as an arrow, 
 the precious little packet I sent to a dear friend in 
 London, for her pleasure and sympathy, was lost at the 
 Post Office. We have made enquiries at both ends, 
 and they give us hopes that it may be restored, but 
 meanwhile I cannot any longer delay writing my thanks 
 for the kind words (that told of kind thoughts) in your 
 letter. I shbuld have often found it a comfort and a 
 pleasure to read it again, — a comfort and a pleasure 
 because I am sure you understood what I aimed at,— 
 and from anyone who sympathizes in that aim, I can 
 bear a great deal of personal fault-finding. Not that 
 you did anything of the kind, dear Mrs. Jameson. I 
 have spoken much on the subject of the book before, 
 and I am surprised to find how very many people — good 
 
 294 
 
Milestones 
 
 kind people — and women infinitely more than men, really 
 and earnestly disapprove of what I have said and ex- 
 press that disapproval at considerable pain to them- 
 selves, rather than allow a " demoralising laxity " to 
 go unchecked. Three or four men have written to 
 approve, — some, one or two at least, high in literature, 
 — and two, with testimony as valuable as fathers of 
 families, — grave thoughtful practical men. I think I 
 have put the small edge of the wedge in, if only I have 
 made people talk and discuss the subject a little more 
 than they did. 
 
 Goodbye, my dear Mrs. Jameson. The Scotts were 
 quite well on Friday when we met the Leonard Horners 
 there. 
 
 Yours most truly 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 Plymouth Grove, Manchester, 
 
 November \^th. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Here is the beautiful commonplace book ' await- 
 ing me on my return home I And I give it a great 
 welcome you may be sure, and turn it over, and peep 
 in, and read a sentence and shut it up to think over its 
 graceful suggestive wisdom in something of the " gour- 
 met " spirit of a child with an eatable dainty, which 
 child, if it have the proper artistic sensuality of child- 
 hood, first looks its cake over to appreciate the full 
 promise of its appearance, — next, snuffs up its frag- 
 rance, — and gets to a fair and complete mouth-watering 
 before it plunges into the first bite. I do like your 
 book. I liked it before, — I like it better now. It is 
 ^ "A Commonplace Book of Thoughts," published 1854. 
 
 295 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 like looking into deep clean water, — down below at 
 every instant of prolonged gaze, one sees some fresh 
 beauty or treasure of clear white pebble, or little shady 
 nooks for fish to lurk in, or delicate water weeds.. 
 Thank you for it. I do value it. . . . 
 
 Ever yours affectionately 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 Plymouth Grove, 
 Sunday Evening, 
 
 Mv DEAR Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 You can't think what pleasure your kind note 
 of appreciation gave, and gives me. I made a half- 
 promise (as perhaps I told you) to Mr. Dickens,' which 
 he understood as a whole one, and though I had the plot 
 and characters in my head long ago, I have often been 
 in despair about the working of them out, because of 
 course, in this way of publishing it, I had to write pretty 
 hard without waiting for the happy leisure hours. And 
 then 20 numbers was, I found, my allowance, instead of 
 the too scant 22, which I had fancied were included in 
 " five months," and at last the story is huddled and 
 hurried up, especially in the rapidity with which the 
 sudden death of Mr. Bell succeeds to the sudden death 
 of Mr. Hale, but what could I do? Every page was 
 grudged me, just at last, when I did certainly infringe 
 all the bounds and limits they set me as to quantity. 
 Just at the very last I was compelled to desperate 
 compression. But now I am not sure if, when the 
 barrier gives way between 2 such characters as Mr. 
 Thornton and Margaret, it would not all go smash in a 
 moment, and I don't feel quite certain that I dislike 
 
 ' Charles Dickens, 18 12-1870. 
 296 
 
Milestones 
 
 the end as it now stands. But it is being re -published 
 as a whole, in two vols, and the question is, shall I alter 
 it and enlarge what is already written, bad and hurried- 
 up though it be? I can not insert small pieces here 
 and there — I feel as if I must throw myself back a 
 certain distance in the story and re-write it from there, 
 retaining the present incidents, but filling up intervals 
 of time etc. Would you give me your very valuable 
 opinion as to this? If I have taken to a book or poem 
 (Laodaima for instance) the first time of reading I 
 am like a child, and angry at every alteration even 
 though it may be an improvement. I am going to 
 follow your plan and run away from reviewers. (Now 
 don't say it is not your plan because I have told Mr. 
 Gaskell it is.) Meta and I are going to Paris about 
 the 13th for a fortnight or so, and I shall be sorry to 
 think, in passing through London that I have not a 
 chance of seeing you. I shall send you a copy of N. 
 and S. if you will kindly accept it. And I really shall 
 be grateful to you for an answer to my question about 
 the alterations. 
 
 Yours ever most truly 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 Plymouth Groye, 
 
 Tuesday, Jan. 30. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson, — 
 
 No ! indeed, you have not been a bit too abrupt. 
 I wanted just what you tell me, — even more decidedly 
 if need were, and truth is too precious and valuable a 
 thing to need drapery, — you tell me just what I wanted 
 to know. If the story ' had been poured just warm 
 
 » "North and South," published 1855. 
 297 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 out of the mind, it would have taken a much larger, 
 mould. It was the cruel necessity of compressing it 
 that hampered me. And now I can't do much, I may 
 not even succeed when I try, but I will try for my 
 own satisfaction even if it does not answer and I have 
 to cancel what I am now meaning to write, and all 
 before the end of next week ! So I have sent to-day 
 since receiving your letter, to stop the press. 
 
 I shall be in a lodging at the house where Steele 
 lived, i.e. the number 36, Bloomsbury Square, out of 
 your more direct way I fear; but on Monday morning 
 the 1 2th, I will hold myself in readiness either to go to 
 or to receive you. . . . 
 
 Ever dear Mrs. Jameson 
 
 Yours most truly 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 Plymouth Grove, 
 
 September 8, 1856. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Your letter found me at home, many thanks 
 for it, and for proposing to send me your second 
 lecture. I shall like very much indeed to have it and 
 shall be at home to receive it for a long time to come. 
 You ask about my life of Miss Bronte.' It is progress- 
 ing, but very slowly. It is a most difficult undertaking. 
 I have constantly to rewrite parts in consequence of 
 gaining some fresh intelligence, which intelligence ought 
 to have found place at some earlier period than the 
 time I am then writing about. 
 
 I have been from home for some weeks and only 
 came home last Wednesday, and mean to work des- 
 
 ' Charlotte Bronte, 1816-1855. 
 298 
 
Milestones 
 
 perately hard at Miss Bronte and then hope some time 
 to get it done. 
 
 Believe me to remain 
 
 Very truly yours 
 
 E. C. Gaskell. 
 
 The " Life of Charlotte Bronte " was not well 
 received. The original edition contained state- 
 ments that the author had to withdraw, together 
 with the unsold copies. Anna expressed her opinion 
 of the unfortunate Life so freely to Mrs. Gaskell 
 that it evidently produced a coolness, though one 
 that did not last ; it is probable, therefore, that 
 it was one of the earlier works that was criticized 
 by Chorley in an article that induced her to criticize 
 the critic himself. 
 
 Henry Chorley to Anna Jameson. 
 
 iS57- 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson,— 
 
 Your humour of toleration does not include the 
 idea that a critic can have feelings to be hurt— or a 
 conscience as much worthy of respect, as are senti- 
 mental attempts to repair that which requires neither 
 sentiment or false colouring, if it is reparable — and I 
 rather wonder you ask such a callous fellow as myself 
 to tea on Thursday. Let me say, that when I go out 
 for release and relaxation from a sad and wearying 
 life, it is no pleasure to be pubHcly singled out for 
 a fierce attack by one who does not find it convenient 
 to listen to defence : and that I think your desire to 
 
 299 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 bless Mrs. Gaskell (whom I like and admire quite as 
 much as you can do, though I don't fancy her in- 
 fallible) need not quite have been accompanied with 
 such a vigorous exhibition of a counter spirit (to put 
 it elegantly) against 
 
 Your old and sincere friend 
 
 H. F. Chorley. 
 
 300 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 ITALY AGAIN 
 
 In the spring of 1857, when the first news of the 
 
 Indian Mutiny was reaching England, Anna set 
 
 out on her travels once more, bound for Rome, 
 
 where her sister, Mrs. Bate, was then living with 
 
 her daughter and son-in-law. Robert Macpherson 
 
 was already in bad health, but he was able to devote 
 
 himself to photography, which was then a profitable 
 
 occupation, and one in which he had not many 
 
 competitors. His photographs of the antiquities 
 
 of Rome were already well known, and in all the 
 
 business of developing and touching up plates and 
 
 printing from negatives, Louisa Bate and Gerardine 
 
 were able to give him much practical help. The 
 
 Macphersons were also working on the plates for 
 
 the second edition of the " Legends of the 
 
 Madonna." 
 
 Anna was as devoted to her favourite niece as 
 
 ever she had been before her marriage, but she does 
 
 not appear to have been on very cordial terms with 
 
 her husband, although there was never any actual 
 
 disagreement . 
 
 301 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to her sisters. 
 
 Rome, Via Strozzi, 4 
 
 Friday, March 4, 1857. 
 
 Dear Sisters all,— 
 
 I must lose no time in telling you that 1 have 
 arrived safe at Rome— at last. I wrote to you I think 
 from Marseilles. .... I embarked on Monday night 
 at 10 o'clock on board the Vesuvio — the weather lovely, 
 the sea calm and every thing promising a " splendid 
 voyage." That night & the next day it was the same 
 till about 4 o'clock then the wind rose, the sun set 
 threatening & a storm came on which, about midnight 
 as we were rounding Corsica, became worse & yet 
 worse — in short — we had 16 hours of dreadful suffering, 
 but at last on Wednesday about 1 2 o'clock we entered 
 the port of Civita Vecchia — there I found Mr. Lowe, 
 the English Consul, on the look out for me with a 
 letter from Geddie in his pocket. He helped me thro' 
 the custom House — where I had trouble again with 
 the plates, but got off by paying duty ; then I got 
 a place in the diligence and a seat in the coupe with 
 the conductor ; the distance is 47 miles and we were 
 8 hours on the road — a road neither beautiful nor 
 interesting. On the left a barren country broken with 
 ridges like great waves (all Volcanic), on the right, 
 the intensely purple sea ; about half way we began 
 to cross the Campagna by the light of a brilliant 
 moon — at midnight I arrived at Rome — they had given 
 me up — but by bribing the conductor & paying well, I 
 got a carriage and at last reached the Via Strozzi — all 
 in bed 1 — but when wakened, as glad to see me as if 
 I had arrived in the middle of the day instead of the 
 
 302 
 
Italy Again 
 
 middle of the night. My room was ready, dear Geddie 
 looked radiant ; I shook hands with Macpherson in his 
 bed, poor fellow, still ill with this horrid Roman fever 
 and then — Louisa being awake — I just gave her a kiss, 
 — got a glass of wine and a round of bread, after 36 
 hours of sickness & fasting, & then to bed ; such was 
 my first arrival in Rome I There are so many people 
 here whom I know, that I am really afraid of being 
 caught in a whirlpool. Sybille Mertens is the only one 
 I have seen as yet. The house is air>' & convenient 
 & plenty of empty rooms but they are going to move 
 into a better ; there seems to be as much business as 
 they can do. Now I must stop. God bless j^ou all — 
 your aft ate. 
 
 Anna., 
 
 Rome, 
 
 May 12, 1857. 
 My dear Sisters,— 
 
 I received yesterday Eliza's satisfactory letter, 
 so far satisfactory that it tells me nothing, there being 
 nothing to tell except that you are all well and getting 
 thro' the remainder of this weary anxious life as quietly 
 
 and contentedly as you can Eliza seems to 
 
 have expected a letter before now and I should have 
 written but I could not give a flourishing account of 
 myself ; without being absolutely ill I seemed to lose 
 the power to work at any thing or attend to any thing. 
 I am now rather better, but as soon as possible I must 
 have change of air. The Etchings are not finished ; 
 there have been several causes of delay, and Gerardine 
 and Macpherson have been absent from Rome for the 
 last few days, they went with little Willy to a place 
 called Porto d'Anzio on the sea shore about 40 miles 
 
 303 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 south, leaving Louisa to mind business. Since the ist of 
 May I am no longer at the Via Strozzi. . . . Majd™®* 
 Braun has given me a spare room in her house & I 
 am boarded and lodged with her — on the same terms as 
 with Geddie — the situation is infinitely beautiful & I am 
 very quiet & comfortable. I am on the summit of the 
 Tarpeian Rock — the highest point in Rome ; my room 
 has two windows— looking south & west. From the 
 first I see the whole Roman Forum — the Collosseum — 
 the Arch of Titus, the ruins on the Palatine ; in short, 
 the whole of Ancient Rome & beyond as far as the 
 Alban Hills & towards Tivoli. From the other window, 
 near which I am now writing, I look down the Tiber, 
 towards the ruined bridge defended by Horatius Codes, 
 Mount Aventine & the famous old Christian Churches 
 which I have described in Legendary Art ; a finer view 
 both for beauty & interest does not perhaps exist in 
 the world. Mad""^- Braun is going to England soon, 
 but has left me the command of two rooms so long as 
 I need them ; I have a man servant in constant attend- 
 ance from 9 in the morning till 9 at night to whom I 
 give 4 pauls a day &' he feeds himself (a paul is 5;jd.) ; 
 I am obliged to have one because I cannot go up 
 and down stairs well & I have many messages &c to 
 send. I can have a nice little carriage for 2^ pauls 
 (about I 5d) an hour but the height at which I live is 
 such that I am generally obliged to pay half a paul 
 more to get the coachman to come up to the door. 
 I look down upon that point of the Tarpeian Rock 
 from which Criminals were thrown (it is now a garden 
 and one blush of roses mixed with Vines & Lemons) at 
 the foot of the rock, are clustered houses & churches. 
 It is the meanest & poorest part of Rome, inhabited 
 
 304 
 
Italy Again 
 
 by mechanics, termagant women & ragged children ; 
 but I look down on the roofs, only partly hidden by 
 Verdure ; I just see the top of the Temple of Vesta 
 & the house of Rienzi. I should like to stay here if 
 my health would permit, but the languor caused by the 
 Roman climate warns me, already, not to tempt the 
 Malaria and as soon as I can get the Etchings finished 
 I shall be off to Florence ; Naples is out of the ques- 
 tion, I have no strength for it. 
 
 What more shall I say? it will not interest you much 
 that the Russian Empress is here and that every body 
 wishes her gone ; the Pope made his escape a few 
 days after her arrival, being gone on a pilgrimage to 
 Loretto. I hope dear Geddie will be returned this 
 Evening or tomorrow & that we shall make some pro- 
 gress with the rest of the etchings. . . . 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 May 22nd. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 ... I am obliged to give up going to Germany 
 by reason of this lameness, which makes me very help- 
 less. I am pursuing a regimen advised by Panteleone, 
 a famous Roman Doctor, but it requires an attendant 
 and all the Doctors agree in advising the waters of Aix- 
 la-Chapelle, as it is something in the system and not 
 Rheumatism or Gout as I thought at first. I shall go to 
 Paris from this place and if I remain there 10 days or 
 a fortnight, I will ask you to spend the time with me. 
 I shall not be able to give you much pleasure, dear, 
 but I shall like to have you if you feel energetic and 
 strong for the journey. 1 have a sort of reproachful 
 
 305 U 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 letter from Longman and indeed not without reason, for 
 I have not been able to get on with my work. My 
 journey from Rome was very tedious. I left on the 
 1 4th and arrived here on the 1 9th, passing my birth- 
 day on the road from Arezzo in company with a 
 Capuchin Friar fresh from Lucknow ; he had been a 
 missionary in India for 7 years. 
 
 Your affecte, 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Via Maggio, 1902. 
 Florence, 
 
 Jutie 25, 1857. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, Eliza & Camilla— dear Sisters, — 
 I am afraid you will begin to be a little anxious 
 about me if I do not Avrite — I have waited only till I 
 could say something more satisfactory about myself 
 than I could say {with truth), a week or a fortnight 
 ago. I have not been very well but am now on the 
 way to be better — I thought at first it was merely the 
 fatigue of the journey from Rome & that I should get 
 over it in a few days, but it has become an attack 
 of lameness like that which I suffered from the spring 
 — but this time in the ankles more than the knees. To 
 be at Florence & unable to move, or to go to a church 
 or Gallery or any institution, was very provoking ; I 
 could not do much at Rome, but it has been worse 
 here. I have been using ammonia blisters — & have 
 even, by pressing entreaty of Lady Herbert & Mrs. 
 Browning, got a Doctor, but he does not please me at 
 all & I can manage myself better. The Herberts are 
 very kind. They live very near. I took tea with 
 them last Evening & was able to walk home. . . . 
 
 306 
 
Italy Again 
 
 Lady Herbert . . . and the girls are perfectly kind 
 and good and are as useful to me as I \vill allow 
 them to be ; so are Mr & Mrs Browning—so you see 
 there is no want of help & friends. Now, as to my 
 arrangements, I will tell you of them because they will 
 amuse the Housekeepers, Eliza & Cammy. I have a 
 very pretty suite of rooms in an airy part of Florence, 
 on one side looking into the Square before the Palazzo 
 Pitti. It is a corner house, so that 1 have the air on 
 all sides — a great comfort in this blazing weather ;v I 
 have a large drawing room — a large bed room, 3 smaller 
 rooms — an ante room for entrance — a good kitchen, all 
 well furnished, 4 sophas, plenty of easy chairs — tables 
 large & small — & the conveniences of all kinds ; very 
 good & clean for Italy. I have, besides, what is called 
 the " Servizia," that is to say, my bed made, rooms 
 cleaned & breakfast prepared every day. For all this, 
 lodging & servizia together I pay i 5 crowns (or Scudi) 
 a month ; a crown is 10 pauls— a paul 5^^ — a scudo is 
 as near as possible 4s. /d. — The woman who serves me 
 for a small additional sum (3 pauls a week) cooks my 
 little dinner & gets for me anything I want. My 
 principal expense is a carriage — opposite to my door 
 is a stand for carriages— a pretty, clean, little open car- 
 riage & one horse costs 3 pauls an hour. Butter & 
 milk, sent up with ice, costs me 5 pauls a week, a 
 large plate full of fruit, fine cherries & apricots, costs 
 2^ — so you see I am not ruining myself in living. The 
 heat is terrible, yet I am told it is nothing to what it 
 will be in July & August ; it is difficult to do any- 
 thing, languid and lamed as I am, but there is an 
 excellent library — both for amusing books in all 
 languages & books on art &c. I pay an expensive 
 
 307 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 subscription i scudo a month— & they let me have 
 very valuable books of engravings & for reference, & 
 I go on, laying up studies & notes for future use till 
 I am more capable of active work. 
 
 Via Maggio, 1902. 
 Florence, 
 
 July 12 fk. 
 
 My monotonous life has been varied lately by an 
 incident. You have read in the papers that the English 
 fleet under Lord Lyons 'was off Leghorn on the great 
 day (the 4th) when the Arch Duke and Archduchess, 
 the authorities & Lord Normandy & suite were invited. 
 The Herbert girls were also invited to go on board the 
 Admirals ship & their mother being absent, they begged 
 of me to supply her place as chaperon. I went reluc- 
 tantly, expecting to be fatigued & bored, but it turned 
 out quite otherwise. I did not put my foot to the 
 ground from my own door to the Royal Albert, suffered 
 little fatigue & was really very much amused. Capt. 
 Blomfield of the Osprey is an old friend & messmate 
 of Douglas Herbert & was our constant & devoted 
 cavalier. The day was splendid— the crew arrayed 
 in gala costume — the Music, the company on board 
 formed a really magnificent scene. We had a splendid 
 luncheon in the gun room, at the same table with the 
 Grandees. Then there was dancing on deck ; we left 
 the ship about 8 & reached Florence by a special 
 train about \ past 11. It was, on the whole, a gay and 
 beautiful spectacle ; tho' the recollection of the dis- 
 turbance & bloodshed which had taken place only 3 
 days before in the streets of Leghorn, did come across 
 me & sadden me a little, it did not seem to come to any 
 one else. 
 
 308 
 
Italy Again 
 
 Via Maggio, 1902. 
 Florence, 
 
 July 2yd. 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 I have been writing lately several letters for 
 the public good, addressed to the United Sisterhood, 
 & now I write to you, yourself — but 1 really must tell 
 you how often I think of you, wish for you and want 
 you — no great compliment, you will say, in my almost 
 solitude, but a proof that I am getting better and 
 humanized. Florence certainly agrees with me better 
 than Rome, where I made no progress. . . . Notwith- 
 standing the Manchester Exhibition & other tempta- 
 tions, I do not wish myself in England yet — I am 
 better— but not well — the thought of England & all I 
 suffered there, comes across me sometimes and make me 
 shiver and shudder still — but I gave myself a year, not 
 to be spent wholly abroad, but as far as I could from 
 painful & disturbing associations. Florence is beautiful 
 and at this season very quiet ; the heat however is not 
 to be described, it burns like a furnace. I shall go to 
 Siena next week, as I have work to be done there & 
 an invitation to a pleasant villa, where I am told it is 
 actually cool (1 suppose comparatively speaking) & 
 as I can now malce the journey by railway in 4 hours 
 for 10 shillings (it used to be a day's journey and cost 
 £2)— it tempts me. The Brownings are going to the 
 Baths of Lucca — too idle and expensive a place for 
 me to stay at, tho' I may pay them a visit before they 
 leave it. Tomorrow I am going to Prato to study some 
 Frescoes & shall be there at 40 min. past 8, return- 
 ing before the heat of the day. I am very idle dear 
 Charlotte and obliged to lie down — or rather go to bed 
 
 309 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 — for some hours in each day ; still I am better. . . . 
 It is such comparatively cheap living here ! one has* 
 money for the pleasures as well as the necessaries of 
 life, when one has any taste for pleasures, which I 
 have not at present. 
 
 Your affect. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 My life has been perfectly calm and almost solitary. 
 I cannot stir during the day and lie on my bed or sopha 
 reading ; in the evening I often drive out with Mrs. 
 Browning, along the banks of the Arno, in a park called 
 here Casclne — Mr. Browning rides. In a week or two, 
 Florence will be unbearable, and I must go somewhere, 
 probably to Siena where it is some degrees cooler and 
 there are no mosquitoes. ... I saw Mrs. Trollope 
 to-day for a few minutes, looking ill, broken, old, 
 haggard and worse. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Eliza Murphy. 
 
 Siena, 
 
 August 17, 1857. 
 
 ... I must write you a fcAv lines on your birth- 
 day dear Eliza, to say God bless you. I think also 
 of poor dear Mother, tenderly, but with no bitterness 
 of regret. ... I have found much to do in this strange 
 old city of Siena. I thought it half dead when I first 
 arrived, but within the last few days it has been seized 
 with a fit of portentous gaiety which comes once a 
 year, the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin, to 
 whom, or rather to which, the beautiful Cathedral is 
 dedicated. It is, I think, the most beautiful Cathedral 
 
 310 
 
Italy Again 
 
 in the world and has been crowded every day this 
 week, but the i 5th was the great day. In the morning 
 there was the grand musical Mass, in the evening races 
 — but if you imagine any thing like English races you will 
 be as far as possible from the truth. Imagine a space 
 as large as Belgrave Square but in the form of a semi- 
 circle, surrounded by public buildings and palaces, the 
 centre being the great market place of the city ; round 
 this, which was thickly strewed with fine sand, & the 
 corners secured by mattresses against the walls, the 
 horses (or rather ponies) ran — the centre being filled 
 with the people— & the windows and balconies crowded 
 with draperies of red, blue, green, & orange. I was in the 
 balcony of the Palazzo Chigi, one of the finest in Siena 
 and saw every, thing. The scene was, to English eyes, 
 very curious ; these fetes have been very much in my 
 way, however, for I could get nothing done this week 
 and shall be at Siena a little longer than I anticipated, 
 but shall return to Florence I hope this week. The 
 Pope makes his grand entry there this week & I am 
 glad to be out of the way. I am very well lodged 
 here, in the Italian style— 3 fine, large, lofty rooms, 
 painted in Fresco, for which I pay 5 pauls (about 
 2s. 3d. a day) service included. I have never, since I 
 have been in Italy, been to an Opera or a theatre or 
 indulged in any expense whatever, except carriages occa- 
 sionally, for tho' much better & stronger, I cannot 
 walk or stand much. Gerardine writes to me that 
 she had at length sent the proofs of the etchings to 
 Florence. The Indian news is horrible ; poor Lady 
 Herbert full of anxieties, for Major Herbert is in the 
 midst of it all. Mrs. Procter also must be anxious 
 for her Son. 
 
 3" 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy . 
 
 Florence, 
 
 October 6, 1857. 
 
 My dear Charlotte,— 
 
 ... I am meditating new things to be done, 
 good and profitable, but health first — if only I could 
 get up some of my former energy ! but I feel so 
 broken and weary, I often wish to lie down and rest, 
 yet I am always hoping that the time will come when 
 I shall be better, for much better I certainly am than 
 when I came to Italy, better than when at Rome. 
 The Bagni di Lucca afforded some repose and change 
 after a month of great anxiety, but the place, tho' 
 beautiful, was damp ; the season being nearly at an end 
 I got into a lodging, a very pretty lodging and had 
 3 rooms and three meals every day for a scudo a 
 day that is 4s. /d. ; this did not include wine or 
 candles, but all things else ; so, you see, it was not 
 ruinous. On my return to Florence I found that my 
 nice lodging (which I could not afford to retain) had 
 been let in my absence. And I am now in a sort of 
 make shift way till I can get a lodging, in a house 
 kept by an Englishwoman, the widow of a Russian 
 courier. I have a large room with the alcove for 
 the bed divided off, rather larger than Cam's bed- 
 room in Bruton Street ; for this I pay 2 paul a day 
 (lOjd.) and another paul for the attendance, so that 
 I am living at a very cheap rate. I must, however, 
 get into a lodging next week. I drew a good deal 
 at Lucca, making reductions and studies for my book. 
 Mrs. Browning was a great resource and I found there 
 Mrs. Haig of Bemersyde with her daughters, who 
 
 312 
 
Italy Again 
 
 were all most kind and attentive, so that 1 got on 
 pretty well. I left the Brownings there for I was un- 
 easy about letters ; besides yours I found here a large 
 parcel of proof sheets from Spottiswoodes, which kept 
 me hard at work yesterday and today ; of my plates 
 I hear no tidings yet. 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Sisters. 
 
 Via Maggio, i'"" piano, 1902. 
 Florence, 
 
 October 30///. 
 
 My dear Sisters,— 
 
 1 hope one or other of you will write to me as 
 often as you can — short letters if not long ones, for 
 it keeps my mind quiet to know that all is going 
 on smoothly. I am not myself very comfortable, hav- 
 ing heard from Gerardine yesterday of the death of 
 poor Madme. Sybille Mertens. I knew she was ill, 
 but had not the least idea there was danger. 1 am 
 in my new lodging & I quite forget Avhether I have 
 written to you since 1 entered it. I have a nice 
 drawing room and a large bed room — larger than 
 Camilla's bed room in Bruton Street — with one part 
 of it containing bed -toilet & divided off by draperies, 
 so that 1 have in fact 3 rooms with a sort of dressing 
 room behind & an entrance or ante -chamber— the 
 furniture ample and excellent, plenty of armchairs, 
 sofas, tables, cabinets. The rent is high because I 
 would only take it by the month & not for the season. 
 I pay £5 I OS. a month, instead of £4 10, but I could 
 not bind myself for 6 months for 1 have business 
 elsewhere. 1 am on a first floor too (which, as I am 
 
 313 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 not strong & a little lame, tho' much better) is a great 
 advantage & I am near the Brownings who are a great 
 resource, for when I want society I can go in to them. 
 The situation is as if I were living near the end of 
 Grosvenor Place. I am near the Palace — near the 
 Arno — and not far from the Cathedral & the Gallery ^j 
 as if I had the National Gallery, Westminster Abbey, 
 the Queen's Gallery (always open, observe) the House 
 of Parliament & the Westminster & Bridgewater Gallery 
 • — always open — and within a street or two. This is the 
 advantage of a small but magnificent capital. Prices 
 of every thing rise at this season from the influx of 
 strangers, particularly Americans & Russians, but on 
 the whole I am living at one half the expense of 
 England & one third less than at Rome & I am work- 
 ing as well as I can — needs must I I have had my 
 publishers account for this last year which is just 
 £4 1 8s. in my favour. I did not expect much, but 
 something more. The pressure of illness (for the last 
 2 years & more) tells now. The publication of the 
 3rd. Edition of Legendary Art & the 2nd. of the 
 Madonna (now on the eve of appearing) will help 
 next year, but it will be December 1858 before I can 
 make any claim ;whatever on any profits, so that I 
 must make an effort to do something immediate — & 
 I am not very fit for it yet. 
 
 Madme, de Goethe is urgent for me to join her 
 at Dresden. I could work there & live there more 
 cheaply than here, but I do not feel that I could 
 make the journey. The Herberts are very attentive 
 & kind. 
 
 The news of the fall of Delhi reached Florence 
 yesterday. Mrs. Procter has a son there. There will 
 
 314 
 
Italy Again 
 
 be no names known for some time & what horrible 
 suspense 1 
 
 I cannot write any more at present. The death of 
 Madme. Mertens (with whom I was a great deal at 
 Rome) has depressed me. She died lonely — with only 
 servants near her — poor woman. You must think of 
 me however as getting better & stronger, and I hope 
 to be well before I return. If you know anything of 
 Lady Byron, tell me. 
 
 Via Maggio, No. 1902. 
 Florence, 
 
 November 23, 1857. 
 
 My dear Sisters all,— 
 
 The last letter from home with the little note 
 from dear Cammy cheered me up — for I was beginning 
 to be full of fears and perplexities. My accounts 
 with Longman are showing the effects of these last 
 few years of suffering and idleness. Except the 
 " Sisters of Charity " which produced very little, I 
 have done nothing fresh out of my mind, and the 
 delay of the new Edition of the Madonna has been a 
 loss to me of at least £200. I shall, 1 hope, get 
 to work again with some energy for 1 am really much 
 better though as yet not well — perhaps I am too old 
 ever to hope to be quite well and strong as I used to 
 be ; but for my pension and annuity where should we 
 all be now? I think of being in England early in 
 the Spring — either seeing Madame de Goethe on my 
 way there or returning to her. The death of poor 
 Madame Mertens, with all its melancholy circumstances, 
 has shaken me a good deal and has had such an 
 effect on Madame de Goethe that I am at this moment 
 very uneasy about her and anxiously looking for her 
 next letter. 
 
 315 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Florence, 
 
 January 25, 1858. 
 
 I have been meditating a letter to my dear Sisters 
 for the last 3 or 4 days, — not having much to tell^ 
 but ever so little I know will be welcome. All I have 
 to say of myself is good ; the cold is intense, the soft 
 of cold I remember in Canada — the sky blue & cloud- 
 less, the sun shining brilliantly, the mountains around 
 covered with snow, the atmosphere icy but clear, brac- 
 ing & invigorating ; it agrees with me & tho I shiver 
 & get an occasional cold, I have not felt so well for 
 the last 5 years as I do now. I am not working very 
 hard, however, or doing much good in an active way, 
 but I am full of good intentions & good hopes — in 
 fact I must work this year — or where shall we all be? 
 & the more materials I can collect before I turn home- 
 wards, the better ; living is expensive here in winter, 
 for wood (the only fuel except a kind of artificial 
 turf) is very dear ; still I do not spend so much 
 as in England, so I go on with a good conscience. 
 A few days since I made an excursion to a monastery 
 about 3 miles from Florence, called the " Certosa " 
 (our Charter House in London was a Certosa) ; the 
 Order being strict, we had an admission from Rome 
 signed by the Pope himself. My object was to see 
 some very fine and peculiar Sculpture as well as the 
 place itself. There I met an Irish Monk, Father Hugh 
 MacMahon, and his delight at seeing me (for he 
 already knew my name and the Legendary Art) was 
 extreme ; he did the honours of his Convent with great 
 intelligence and animation. They gave us the sweet- 
 meats and Rosolia, the sculpture and pictures were 
 
 316 
 
Italy Again 
 
 as fine as I had expected, so it was all very agree- 
 able. I have also been once to the Opera and to one 
 of Lady Normanby's parties, out of 4 to which I have 
 been asked. So you see I am becoming dissipated, 
 comparatively, but I have such a dread of falling back 
 in health that I really take care of myself. I have 
 no intentions of travelling while the weather is thus 
 severe, but am revolving plans of going to Naples 
 by sea, (a cheap voyage) staying there about a fort- 
 night, then coming up to Rome by land and remain- 
 ing with Geddie till April. . . . Send me a paper with 
 the best account of the Princess's ' marriage, the 
 " Times " if you can. ... I have made no particular 
 new friends here and go very little into society, re- 
 fusing in a general way all dinner parties, but people 
 come to see me and I have plenty of books. Gerardine 
 is well, writes cheerfully, but is vexed at my not going 
 to Rome at once ; the truth is the place did not 
 agree with me — perhaps it will be better now that 
 I am better ; remember that all you tell me in your 
 letters is interesting, your Walter, your doggie, your 
 maid, everything ; so write soon. . . . 
 
 Your affecte. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Madame Anna Jameson, 
 
 Aux soins de Messrs. Ttirner ct Compagnie. 
 Banquiers — a Naples. 
 
 My dear Sisters all, — 
 
 I did not expect to have written to you again 
 from Florence — but I am still here waiting till the 
 
 ' Marriage of Princess Royal with Prince Frederick William of 
 Prussia, January 25, 1858. 
 
 317 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 weather softens a little — tho rather better it is still 
 very severe. We had a fall of snow last Tuesday, 
 the flakes being so large that they resembled a flock 
 of white pigeons in the air ; the next day all trace 
 was gone and the sun shone out brilliantly, but still 
 the wind blowing from the white summits of the 
 Apenines is piercing. I have made an agreement with 
 my good landlady to keep on my warm lodging from 
 day to day without any extra expense ; this leaves me 
 free as to time & money matters, as I can be off 
 at a moments warning & I hope will not be here after 
 the 25th and to be in England early in the Spring, 
 that is about May — if all goes well. I am gaining 
 strength & the day before yesterday took a walk to 
 the other end of Florence, which would have been 
 quite impossible 3 months ago. 
 
 We are here in the last days of the Carnival — the 
 people from highest to lowest would seem to a foreigner 
 half mad — 'the streets are infested with masks, the 
 people visit each other in masks & dominos, but there is 
 no pelting with confetti as at Rome. I have not mingled 
 with any gaieties, have not even been on the Corso, 
 have not even been to a theatre — invitations abound 
 but I am not up to it all yet. I should have said 
 that I once went to see a Florentine popular exhibition 
 called " Stentorello " but it was too ridiculous — at least 
 for sober me ; we have only one day more of these 
 absurdities & then perhaps I shall be able to get into 
 the Galleries & Churches again to work, which for 
 the last week has been impossible. 
 
 Eliza's letter duly reached me & was a very great 
 comfort. God grant that this may be a better, brighter 
 Year for us all I I have planned to see Mme. de 
 
 318 
 
Italy Again 
 
 Goethe before I go to England ; but this will depend 
 on my finances & some other things. There is a large 
 French Steamer which goes from Leghorn to Naples 
 once a week ; it is a cheap mode of travelling & will 
 cost me all included about £4 (by land it would be about 
 I 5£) ; from Naples (after seeing what I must see there) 
 I shall come up to Rome, & spend a fortnight or more 
 near dear Geddie, who is very impatient for me to 
 go. She gives me a good account of the Roman Home 
 generally & says they are " very busy.'" This is all 
 at present ; do not direct any more letters to Florence, 
 but write to Naples — 'to the care of the Banker. 
 
 I really have no more to say, for I live quiet as a 
 Mouse. I will write again before I leave Florence — 
 dear Sisters. 
 
 Your affecte, 
 ^ . Anna. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Charlotte Murphy. 
 
 Naples, 
 
 March 13, 1858. 
 
 My dear Charlotte, — 
 
 ... I sometimes wish you all out of that ex- 
 pensive England, where merely to ascertain life costs 
 more than to enjoy life in other countries ; it is the land 
 of the rich but not the land of the poor. Well ! we 
 do the best we can 1 I arrived at Naples on the 9th 
 — by sea from Leghorn in one of the great French 
 steamers, a cheap — but not an agreeable journey— so 
 stormy, that we were detained in a little seaport 
 for 24 hours — & arrived at Naples on a gloomy 
 tempestuous morning— raining— & Mt. Vesuvius in 
 
 319 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 a black nightcap ; it is not yet like Naples, not 
 such as I remember it, but very beautiful. I shall 
 not remain here long, merely to accomplish certain 
 purposes & then off to Rome where I hope to be the 
 first week in April. I wish to avoid the Holy week 
 there, because of the expense ; every thing is dearer at 
 Rome than at Naples & Naples is more expensive than 
 Florence. I have a little lodging for 3s. 6d. a day — 
 & not a single room is to be had in any hotel, so you 
 see people are not frightened by the earthquakes, of 
 which I have had a horrible account The Sisters of 
 Charity, aided by some kind people, have collected some 
 of the orphan children & have brought them to Naples. 
 I am going to see them, for my interest in these good 
 Sisters of Charity, (every where to be found, & every 
 where efficient) is as strong as ever. Of course I 
 have seen nothing yet except a few pictures. 1 am 
 amused by the difference between the Naples of 35 
 years ago & the Naples of the present ; the sandy 
 shores with the half -naked Lazzaroni have disappeared, 
 there is a paved quay — dreadfully tidy & civilized — 
 and instead of half a dozen vessels in the port, above 
 200. Mrs. Jeffries & Fanny Herbert were here a 
 month before me — my other acquaintances are the 
 Marchesa Anna Gasgallo, the Tuscan Minister Fresco - 
 baldi and his wife — & the Cravens, whom I knew years 
 ago. When the weather is better, I shall be better ; 
 at present I suffer so much from fatigue that as yet 
 I cannot go out in the evening. ... I shall be in 
 England early this spring, not stopping any where long 
 after I leave Naples — for I believe I have got my 
 materials together if I can but work. Now I must 
 stop. I will write again very soon, for this is hardly an 
 
 320 
 
Italy Again 
 
 answer to yours, dear — only I thought you would like 
 to hear that I am safe and tolerably well. 
 
 Your affect 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Sisters. 
 
 Monte Tarpeia, 
 
 May 17, 1858. 
 
 ... I am always working, but I am afraid iin- 
 profitably for the present & I get old — old— remind- 
 ing myself continually of poor dear Mother in the 
 last years of her life. How thankful I am that, among 
 many cares, we are secured from actual want while 
 I live & you may be sure I shall take care of myself 
 for your sakes, my dear sisters ; let me have a nice 
 long letter at the beginning of next month & tell 
 me every thing — & who is with dear Cammy — & hcw 
 she is ; no body has written me a word about the new 
 Edition of the Madonna & I have no copy yet — so I 
 do not know if it looks well ; here & at Rome they 
 are very impatient about it — at least so the book- 
 sellers tell me. I should like to send a present to 
 Maisie's little Son — your god son — & I wish you to 
 send for two copies of .Willy's book out of the 5£ 
 I send — pray tell her that I think of her & wish her 
 well, but I cannot introduce her to Mrs. Gaskell, I 
 am afraid — for I have expressed myself about Mrs. 
 G. & her book about Charlotte Bronte very strongly. 
 God bless you all — if you have any wants & wishes 
 always tell me — if I can fulfill them I will, if not 
 I will say so. Your affecte Sister, 
 
 Anna. 
 321 X 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 . . . This airy situation suits me better than the Via 
 Strozzi in point of health and its incomparable beauty 
 and great comfort and quietness, after the perpetual 
 disturbance at the other house, give me leisure to go 
 on with my occupations and my work. I am working 
 hard, I go out nowhere except to the Churches and 
 studios ; almost every one I know has left Rome and 
 those who are not gone, are off this week. Gibson 
 I shall miss very much ; he goes off on Thursday. In 
 fact Rome is becoming unhealthy and after this month 
 no one who can get away will remain here ; the Pope 
 and almost all the Cardinals are gone. . . . Some- 
 times I imagine Eliza laughing at my household 
 management. I have a good little maid (Sabetta) and 
 a man who comes every morning at 8 and stays till 
 night, and to whom I pay 4 pauls, (is. 8d.) a day 
 and he finds himself. Both are very zealous and good 
 humoured and (I hope) honest. A carriage costs me 
 2| pauls by the hour (a paul is about 5d.). 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning to Anna Jameson. 
 
 (Post Mark) 6, Rue de Castillione, 
 
 October <„ 1858. Place Vendome, 
 
 Tuesday, 
 
 I don't pretend to write letters, dearest Mona 
 Nina, as long as I am in Paris. I neither read nor 
 write nor think, and find it hard to say my prayers. 
 If ever in this world I get an opportunity of rest, 
 repose, silence, see if I shall not thank God for it ; 
 but perhaps not — we are not, I am not, so thankful 
 for benefits. 
 
 I fear, with this rush and roar, I shall lose my Arabel 
 
 322 
 

 ' .^ 
 
 r^ 
 
 c 
 
 V 
 
 s? < 4- ^ W (U ? ^^ I 
 
 ^ ^' i 4 Q -X^ ^ i- ^ 
 
 2 J^.^.f^^ik, iri.^ 
 
 ^'41 
 
 
 
 c / N '^ ^ ., -^ 4 
 
 I nl s C,f 
 
 
 
 ^t C ¥ ; rf ^1 ^? i^^'^iO^ 
 
Italy Again 
 
 — and I shan't like that, no, I shan't like that — it will 
 give me great, great pain. 
 
 George has gone, and she goes to-day before we 
 do and we go (or talk of it) next Tuesday by the Mont 
 Cenis route to Florence, and to Rome after a short 
 interval, if our plans hold together. 
 
 I am much stronger looking, so I hear, and have 
 been to the Louvre and the Luxembourg, and shopping 
 with a strong arm. One comes home half dead, but 
 gets to life again some how — I am much stronger 
 certainly — only I do hate Havre — set down that. — 
 Here we are in a pretty apartment crowded with de- 
 lightful armchairs, and in the best situation, for which 
 we don't pay extravagantly and have not to climb above 
 a premier. The rooms are small and we are on a 
 cour, but these are scarcely objections. 
 
 Father Prout ' has found us out and Madame Mohl 
 has come and invites us to-morrow to meet Villemain 
 (Robert goes) Mr. and Mrs. Twistleton are here too 
 on their way through Paris. Madame du Quair brought 
 a Mr. Congreve to us the other evening, late a pupil 
 of Dr. Arnold and a clergyman of the Church of 
 England, now disciple and executor of Comte, to re- 
 monstrate with me on Aurora Lee's disrespect to his 
 philosopher and to expound the philosophy. I was 
 not moved, otherwise than to moralize much on the 
 want of logic and reason in thinking men. The 
 " religion of atheism " and the " communion " on one 
 side only, remain to me enormous contradictions — the 
 Athanasian Creed perfectly easy and self-evident in 
 comparison. As long as men (and such men as Comte 2 
 
 ^ Father Prout (Francis Sylvester Mahony), 1 804-1 866. 
 ^ Auguste Comte, 1798-1857. 
 323 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 was) enunciate such mad inconsistencies, I shall not 
 be inclined to accept his dogma and fall down and 
 worship humanity per se. 
 
 And the D question and such things don't 
 
 ctssist the Comte doctrine do they? What a dreadful 
 letter that last was — and what a crime, for a man to use 
 his genius as a cudgel against his near kin . . . even 
 against the woman he promised to protect tenderly 
 with life and heart — taking advantage of his hold with 
 the public to turn public opinion against her ! I call 
 it dreadful. .Write and speak of yourself dearest friend. 
 Don't stay at Brighton — come into the sun. Robert's 
 love. . . . Yours with true love 
 
 Ba. 
 
 Lady Elgin remains better. Robert goes to read 
 Keats every two days to her and she lies in dumb 
 ecstasy. 
 
 324 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE END 
 
 In 1859 Anna went to Rome for the last time. 
 ■Her friends noticed, with growing concern, that her 
 health was failing fast and that her work was no 
 longer a pleasure, but an effort to her. Still she 
 persisted, collecting materials for the " History of 
 our Lord " and enjoying the society of friends as 
 far as she could. 
 
 Amongst the friends of later years, one of the 
 most distinguished was Barbara Leigh Smith, now 
 Madame Bodichon,i one gifted with many talents 
 and in the forefront of the " Woman " movement. 
 Madame Bodichon was said to be the original of 
 " Romola," and was linked by friendship with most 
 of the prominent people of the day ; she was co- 
 editor of the Englishwoman's Review with Miss 
 Bessie Parkes (afterwards Madame Belloc), and 
 was one of the founders of Girton College. Anna 
 had known her as a girl and had helped her with 
 advice when she was studying with another young 
 
 ' Madame Bodichon (Barbara Leigh-Smith), 1827-1891. 
 325 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 friend, Anna Mary Howitt,' in " the purple woods 
 of Sussex." 
 
 Madame Bodichon to Anna Jameson. 
 
 MusTAPHAR, Algiers, 
 
 April 21, 1859. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Jamescwst,— 
 
 Bella gave me your kind message & I hasten 
 to send you some scraps of our life out here as you are 
 so good as to ask me to write to you. To-day I ought 
 to write to you, as yesterday my eyes saw what I wished 
 yours could have seen in place of mine, because, in- 
 teresting as it was to me, to you it would have been 1 00 
 times as interesting, coming as a new pearl on the long 
 strings you have collected. It was the grave of a Roman 
 Saint & martyr. Bu,t I will begin at the beginning of 
 our excursion. Yesterday morning at 7 o'clock the sun 
 was as hot as in England at 1 2 in June & the sky was 
 bluer, so that the little omnibus which came up from 
 Algiers with 3 horses for us was much more suited to 
 the day than an open carriage. Away we went towards 
 the West along the hill top on which we live, the sea 
 to the right hand & the plain 8c mountains on the left. 
 We had had rain in the night, the flowers & trees 
 were resplendent with fliamond drops, the blue con- 
 volvulus, the purple climbing volubilis, the yellow king 
 daisies, the red poppies, the crimson gladioli, were all 
 struggling together in the hedges & fields, twisting & 
 climbing &' growing over one another in delicious com- 
 binations, not in confusion. It is beautiful to see flowers 
 which we are accustomed to see in hot houses in Eng- 
 
 ' Daughter of William and Mary Howitt. 
 326 
 
The End 
 
 land growing free in the open air ; at first most people 
 are disappointed because they are so different, so wild 
 & ragged & jagged & perhaps one is inclined to say 
 at first, why, after all they are not so ideal in form as in 
 the Crystal Palace I . but their characters come out, their 
 force & inner nature &' that is the true ideal after all. 
 It is beautiful to see how the aloe cuts himself with 
 his own daggers as the wind blows the leaves one 
 against another, how he serves to some climbing delicate 
 plant as a mere stick & with all his rude bower of 
 growth cannot shake her off, how of a crowd of young 
 seedlings coming up, at last one sort of plant best suited 
 to the place will out grow all the rest &, in the end, kill 
 them ; how the acanthus, with its great sheltering leaves 
 & the green light that passes thro' them, seems to be 
 sanctuary for some small flowers which love to rejoice 
 & pray quietly in the shade. 
 
 Thinking of the lives of these creatures, their battles, 
 struggles, competitions, loves, hates, we drove along in 
 our yellow omnibus until we came to this view of Sidi 
 Ferruch or Torre-cica. This is the place where the 
 French landed, but more important to us for its wild 
 picturesque beauty & its interesting remains. The tower 
 of the Mosque was built by the Spaniards they say & 
 the beautiful dome also, it is supposed, but there seems 
 to be a doubt, as there are a great many Roman remains 
 near & some beheve the tower & dome to have been 
 built by the Romans. Probably there is work of 
 Romans, Spaniards & Arabs all mixed together. 
 
 We drove up to the only good house, which stands 
 near the palm tree surrounded by 20 or 30 little houses 
 inhabited by French colonists. The place is very drear, 
 not a tree to be seen all along the coast excepting the 
 
 327 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 one immense palm tree, which is so precious to our 
 friend that he said he would not have it cut down for 
 the worth of all his peninsula. We rested a few minutes 
 in the house & made friends with the 6 dogs, ducks, 
 chickens, cats, etc. which were walking in & out & 
 with our friend's piano & then went off to sketch by 
 the sea shore. As usual my Doctor was sent for to 
 visit the sick; we never go out into the country but 
 he is asked to see some one ill of fever or bad eyes. 
 Here there were some hundreds of men, Arabs and 
 soldiers, at work building a fort & he went off to 
 inspect them at the Commandant's request. I sat on a 
 sand hill & drew the whole view, of which I can make 
 a picture some day I hope. I send you a little scribble 
 of it on the other page. 
 
 Do you remember that Sycorax was born here? I 
 think I have found the very place & would like to give 
 a great deal of time to painting it ; indeed perhaps I 
 shall some day. Prospero's island may have been near 
 here. As we searched in the little caves for shells, 
 Venus' ears and others, we thought of Ariel & many 
 passages applicative to the sea shore & yellow sands. 
 
 1 think the Doctor & Mr. Martin were rather out of 
 patience with our groping so long in caves & could 
 not understand that a certain Tempest gave a beauty 
 to everything which the bright sun himself could not 
 impart & they hurried us away to see what interested 
 them the most of all things here — a little chapel on 
 the edge of a sea washed rock in which still remain 
 
 2 stone graves & a mosaic floor. Mr. Martin was 
 present when the chapel was discovered & he made a 
 copy of the inscriptions & date written in the mosaic. 
 He says it was erected in 400 a.d. to a Christian martyr 
 
 328 
 
The End 
 
 & that every, word of the inscription & the design was 
 perfect when he ist saw it. There was a large panther 
 pursuing a stag &' palm branches surrounding 2 lambs 
 at each side & a vase at the top surmounted by a 
 dove. If I can get the copy of the inscription I shall 
 enclose it. There is enough left now to be very interest- 
 ing & the mosaic pattern which encloses the whole 
 is one which I remember to have seen at Cirencester. 
 How those wonderful people linked the far countries 
 together with their wonderful works. Not far from 
 this point on the other side of the bay is a Roman 
 aqueduct & all along the coast are found Roman sar- 
 cophagi. ,W,e came upon 2, just uncovered, with the 
 bones lying by them, thrown out without any one to 
 care for them. I jumped down into the grave & seized 
 a piece of a skull & examined the solid granite coffins 
 but could find no inscriptions. There coffins are so 
 common that they are used for troughs for cattle to 
 drink from in all the farms about. Near these two 
 ancient graves we came upon 2 modern ones in the 
 sand by the sea; more desolate graves I never saw. 
 " Whose are they? " I asked with a sort of shudder & 
 Mr, Martin said they are 2 suicides, one a ruined specu- 
 lator who came here to shoot himself the other an 
 American fr. Louisiana, tainted by consumption, who 
 had not patience to wait & therefore hurried into 
 death. 
 
 Black clouds came up & rattling thunder ; the moun- 
 tains answered one after the other, the zigzag darts 
 flew about over our heads or struck dovm into ground 
 & in 10 minutes the whole face of nature was changed 
 & we were enveloped in a terrific storm. My spirits 
 rose & I intensely enjoyed seeing this wild place in 
 
 329 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 such a wild mood. The tall palm swayed & talked high 
 up there amongst his stirred branches to the black 
 thunder cloud ; the old tower stood out white against 
 the black & the green sea threw up white foam over 
 the dark rocks. 
 
 We were delayed & our ride home made a little 
 dangerous & much later than we thought, for the moon, 
 which here we have almost a right to count upon as 
 on the sun, gave us no light and we had a black ride 
 home, but not without pleasures of its own. The wind 
 & rain whistled against our glass house & the horses' 
 bells rattled & we all alone ; for 14 miles we never met 
 one Uving creature that I saw. We had arms with 
 us & should not have minded if we had met friends or 
 enemies . 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson, I do not say anything about my 
 drawings, because I shall leave this enchanted country 
 in 4 weeks & in 5 or 6 I hope you will see what 
 I have done this winter. 
 
 Our life here is very quiet & hard working & one 
 would have thought perfectly inoffensive to any one 
 on earth, but it is not so ! The little foolish circles of 
 French & English talk in the most absurd manner 
 about us & find us very offensive. Have you read Mill 
 " On Liberty "? It delights us. I wish all these people 
 could read it. To a certain extent we live on his 
 principles ! 
 
 We hope some winter that you will come out to us 
 & have some months here to study the country & its 
 inhabitants. The journey is not very difficult & every 
 day becomes easier. 
 
 Next winter I hope we shall have a better supply 
 of English ; this year they are not very refined or well 
 
 330 
 
The End 
 
 instructed & I have not made a single valuable 
 acquaintance. 
 
 I had a little glimpse of one group which next year 
 perhaps may be much to us, as they will take a house on 
 our hill. 
 
 Our neighbours are curious — Nuns, Arabs, Jews, & 
 farmers from Italy, Spain & Malta. I know every body 
 & receive a very mixed society every Saturday after- 
 noon. 
 
 The most interesting man to me in Algiers is a 
 priest who was in the Crimea. I think we shall be 
 friends ; he is a German, very learned & refined & with 
 him I have some sympathy in my art. 
 
 I look forward with great pleasure to showing you 
 my winter's work. All I can say is that I have been 
 very industrious. 
 
 I hope you & your works have prosf>ered this winter 
 & that the spring brings you renewed force & spirit 
 to carry out some of the many ideas you spoke to me 
 about at Brighton. 
 
 Believe me 
 
 Dear Mrs. Jameson 
 
 Yours affectionately 
 
 B. L. S. BODICHON. 
 
 On October 8th Anna returned to London, leav- 
 ing almost immediately afterwards to be present 
 at a Social Science Meeting at Bradford. 
 
 The question of the improvement of education 
 and the advancement of women workers was one 
 that she had now most at heart. She wrote and 
 spoke whenever possible on the subject, and she 
 
 331 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 has left behind her a statement of her opinions 
 which is of great interest. This manifesto, for so 
 it . may be called, is preserved in Weimar among 
 the correepondence of Ottilie von Goethe ; it is, 
 practically, a profession of faith with regard to the 
 mutual obligations of the sexes. 
 
 Aus Ottiliens Nachlass. 
 Jameson, Anna, varia von ihrer Hand. 
 
 A brief and definite statement of certain principles 
 regarding the social and relative position of women. 
 
 1 . I believe that God created the human race, one 
 in species, male and female ; the two sexes being equally 
 tho' differently endowed. 
 
 2. I believe that the Gospel of Christ recognizes man- 
 kind, male and female, as one body, one church, both 
 sexes being equally rational beings with improvable 
 faculties, equally responsible for the use or abuse of 
 the faculties entrusted to them, equally free to chuse 
 the good and refuse the evil, equally destined to an 
 equal immortality; and I insist that any human and 
 social laws which are not founded in the recognition of 
 this primary law, are, and must be, false in the general 
 principle, and in the particular application and in result, 
 equally injurious to both sexes. 
 
 3. I believe that neither the law of nature, nor the 
 Gospel law, makes any difference in the amount of 
 virtue, self-control and purity of heart and person re- 
 quired from man and woman equally, and I insist that 
 all conventional laws and all relations and contracts 
 between the two sexes which admit or create inequality 
 
 332 
 
The End 
 
 in this respect and let loose the passions of the one sex 
 to prey on the other, introduces a horrid treacherous 
 warfare between the two sexes, depraving and degrad- 
 ing both, and by the eternal law of justice, even more 
 fatal to the oppressor than to the oppressed. 
 
 4. There are in nature masculine and feminine 
 attributes, but there are not masculine and feminine 
 virtues and vices . Whatever is morally wrong is equally 
 wrong in man and in woman, and no virtue is to be 
 cultivated and honoured in one sex that is not equally 
 required from the other. 
 
 5. I believe Marriage to be the holiest, as it must 
 have been the first, of all human institutions. BUT — a 
 solemn contract equally incurred by two human beings 
 equally responsible, is, before God and man, equally 
 binding on both — and THEREFORE — any conventional 
 law binding the one party and absolving the other, in 
 what regards the most sacred of all the obligations 
 incurred by such a contract — mutual truth in word and 
 act— must, of necessity, place both parties in a false 
 position and render the whole contract of marriage a 
 standing lie. 
 
 Lastly, 
 
 6. The natural and Christian principle of the moral 
 equality and freedom of the two sexes being fully 
 recognized I insist 
 
 That the ordering of domestic life is our sacred 
 province, indissolubly linked with the privileges, 
 pleasures and duties of maternity, and that the exclusive 
 management of the community at large belongs to men 
 as the natural result of their exemption from the infirmi- 
 ties and duties which maternity entails on the female 
 part of the human race. 
 
 333 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 And by maternity I do not mean the actual state of 
 motherhood, which is not necessary nor universal, but 
 the maternal organization common to all women (sic). 
 
 Anna Jameson, 
 
 (Goethe und Schiller Archiv : 
 Weimar.) 
 
 Anna Jameson's period of activity was fast draw- 
 ing to a close. Always in bad health and always 
 at work, she must often have felt unequal to the 
 efforts of concentration that she exacted from her- 
 self. She had acknowledged for some time that 
 her literary work was too much for her, but she 
 was still a prominent member of the National 
 Association for the promotion of Social Science, 
 and it was, very probably, at her suggestion, that 
 Adelaide Procter joined the Committee in this year. 
 
 On her way to Bradford she stayed near Ponte- 
 fract. 
 
 Anna Jameson to her Sisters. 
 
 My dear Sisters,— 
 
 I can only write a short letter to tell you that 
 I received duly Charlotte's packet yesterday morning 
 just before I left Bradford. The fatigue has been very 
 great — I was obliged to keep my room all day Satur- 
 day. . . . On Sunday I drove over to Haworth with the 
 Clergyman who was to preach a charity sermon there 
 and invited me to accompany him. Haworth you know, 
 
 334 
 
ANNA JAMESON, 
 From a photograph by David Octavius Hill. R.S.A. 
 
 TO face p. 334. 
 
The End 
 
 was the home of Charlotte Bronte, where she died ; we 
 were received by the feeble, desolate old man, her 
 father, and I shall tell you the rest when I see you. 
 
 1 went over to Frystone the beautiful place of 
 Monckton Milnes near Pontefract Castle — and have 
 been very much pleased with my visit. Miss Carpenter," 
 Mr. & Mrs. Cowper, Mr. Brookfield and other inte- 
 resting people have been here — about i8 to dinner 
 every day. On Thursday I go to Liverpool to the 
 Rathbones' and then I will write you again. ... I 
 am quite well. 
 
 Your affect. Sister, 
 A. J. 
 
 A poem by Emily Bronte 2 in manuscript has 
 been preserved with this letter. 
 
 Cold in the earth and the deep snow piled above thee, 
 Far far removed, cold in the dreary grave ! 
 
 Have I forgot, my only love, to love thee. 
 
 Severed at last, by times' all severing wave? 
 
 Now when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover 
 Over the mountains on that northern shore. 
 
 Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover 
 Thy noble heart, for ever ever more. 
 
 Cold in the Earth and fifteen wild Decembers 
 From those brown hills have melted into Spring ; 
 
 Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers 
 After such years of change and suffering. 
 
 ^ Mary Carpenter, 1807-1877. 
 == Emily Bronte, died 1848. 
 335 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Sweet love of youth ! forgive if I forget thee 
 While the World's tide is bearing me along ; 
 
 Other desires and other hopes beset me — 
 
 Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong. 
 
 No later light hath lightened up my Heaven, 
 No second moon has ever shone for me ; 
 
 All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given, 
 All my Hfe's bliss is in the grave with thee. 
 
 But when the days of golden dreams had perished 
 And even Despair was powerless to destroy, 
 
 Then did I learn how existence could be cherished, 
 Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy. 
 
 Then did I check the tears of useless passion, 
 
 Weaned my young soul from yearnings after thine, 
 
 Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten 
 Down to that tomb already more than mine. 
 
 And even yet I dare not let it languish. 
 
 Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain, 
 
 Once drinking deep of that divinest Anguish, 
 How could I seek the empty world again? 
 
 E. Bronte. 
 
 An interesting account of Anna's appearance at 
 the Social Science Meeting, her last appearance in 
 public, is given in the " Vignettes " of Bessie Raynor 
 Parkes, published in 1866. " She [Mrs. Jameson] 
 attended the Social Science Meeting at Bradford 
 
 336 
 
The End 
 
 in October 1859 and sat during the whole of one 
 day in the Section B, where papers on the employ- 
 ment of women were being read, and occasionally 
 joined in the discussion that ensued. When Mrs. 
 Jameson spoke a deep silence fell upon the crowded 
 assembly. It was quite singular to see the intense 
 interest she excited. Her age, and the compara- 
 tive refinement of her mental powers, had prevented 
 her sphere of action from being ' popular ' in the 
 modern sense ; and this, of course, created a 
 stronger desire to see and hear her, of whom they 
 knew little personally. Her singularly low and 
 gentle voice fell like a hush upon the crowded room, 
 and every eye bent eagerly upon her and every ear 
 drank in her thoughtful and weighty words." 
 
 After attending this meeting, Anna visited Mrs. 
 Gaskell at Plymouth Grove, and some other friends, 
 afterwards returning to London. 
 
 Her last months were spent between Brighton, 
 where her sisters now lived, and London, where she 
 was still at work on the " History of our Lord," that 
 she was destined to leave unfinished. 
 
 She had been ill, on and off, all the winter, but 
 was still working bravely, as a letter to Ottilie, 
 dated Brighton, December 1859, testifies:— 
 
 " I am making progress but slowly, very slowly, for 
 I cannot write much. My hands and brain get wearied 
 and my mind perplexed, but I have finished now these 
 chapters : — (i) The Innocents. (2) The life of John 
 
 337 Y 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 Baptist. (3) The daughter of Herodias. (4) The 
 traders expelled from the Temple. (5) The Woman 
 of Samaria. (6) The Dispute in the Temple. If you 
 can give me any thoughts or help relating to these, 
 pray do ; you are rich in imagination. Everything you 
 see makes you think and men make you feel." 
 
 She spent Christmas alone in London, as a letter 
 vi^ritten to Charlotte testifies :— 
 
 You enquire what I am about and what I am doing 
 — I am really doing nothing but my work. I am every 
 day — almost — at the Museum ; to-day not, because I had 
 the carriage and used it to go to Mrs. Horner and pay 
 some other visits, but every lady is out of town and 
 nothing doing that I care about in any way. 
 
 I get thro' a large amount of work and that is all ; 
 to-day there are two or three people to dinner for the 
 first time and no one I much care about — so you see 
 I have really nothing to tell you. I hope your Christ- 
 mas will be as merry as you can make it — without me 
 — who am not, I confess, very merrily inclined. Tell 
 me if you arrange to dine with Cam or she with you. 
 
 I fully intend to be with you New Year's Day. 
 
 Yours affly, 
 A. J. 
 
 Anna Jameson to Ottilie Von Goethe. 
 
 February 17, i860. 
 
 My dearest Ottilie,— 
 
 I am very sorry for the grief that has fallen 
 upon you in the death of that excellent creature Nannie 
 Buol ; I remember her perfectly and I know that not 
 
 338 
 
The End 
 
 to find her again when you return to Vienna will be a 
 deep grief to you — your sympathy with her parents 
 and relations will make it deeper., I am very sorry. 
 You speak of not being able to love your friends as 
 you once could and of the difficulty of writing, which 
 I can well understand, but remember, that though you 
 should love no one else in the world, you must still 
 love me and though you should write to no one else in 
 the world, you must still write to me. I, too am grow- 
 ing old and indifferent, but I cannot spare you my dear 
 task mistress ! I have been very hard at work. I 
 have written more of my book and, always when I 
 counted the pages, I thought you would be pleased — 
 that I was fulfilling your wish. I shall like to have the 
 new catalogue of the gallery very much. I saw the 
 commencement at Dresden. I intend to have some of 
 the illustrations of my book drawn and cut at Dresden 
 if I can go there, or if 1 can make such an arrangement 
 with, artists about money as will be convenient. I am 
 in London for a few days only to make some arrange- 
 ments with artists and I will write to you again about 
 this matter, for you would, I think, be of use to me 
 when you are better and able to give your attention 
 without too much effort. I shall require at least 200 
 drawings. With regard to the little picture called 
 Raphael's 1 remember that I saw it many years ago. 
 1 thought it an exquisite little picture — but whether 
 Raphael's or not I would not say— 1 am not a sufficient 
 judge. At that time the possessor demanded for it 
 io,ooo£ ; Sir C. Eastlake and Dr. .Waagen both 
 thought the price too high and doubted that it was 
 a Raphael,— on which the man commenced a war 
 upon them in the newspapers— a deadly war of 
 
 339 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 abuse so vulgar and violent that it gave me no good 
 impression of him or his picture. 
 
 I have the small steel engravings of the gallery and 
 shall make them useful. What more shall I tell you? 
 Gerardine has sent her eldest boy to Edinburgh to 
 spend 6 months with his aunt Tottie, but I have not 
 seen him in passing through London, not knoAving of 
 it till too late. 
 
 When I was last in town, I saw the Noels and Miss 
 Montgomery ; they called on me and met (without 
 intending it) in my room ; this time, I shall probably 
 see them again. 
 
 The voyage made to the Arctic regions by the ship 
 sent out by Lady Franklin, to search for her husband, 
 has been published and covered us Englishwomen with 
 great honour ; in the sad document discovered, which 
 told of the fate of the unhappy men who perished, the 
 names signed were " Graham Gore and Charles F. des 
 Voeux " ; both perished. I thought this would interest 
 you — the history is most sad and very simply related. 
 
 Tell me something more of the death of Madame 
 Devrient — when and where did she die? I have no 
 notice of it in the English journals. 
 
 Give my best love to your sister. I am sorry she 
 suffers. Tell her I shall not forget my three or four 
 days at Schleswig ; and give my love to Walter and 
 Wolf and to all my Dresden friends kind remem- 
 brances — particularly dear good Madame de Serre — the 
 Lotterie has my best wishes for her sake. Remember 
 me to Dr. Carus, tho' I have a sort of instinctive 
 enmity against your physicians. Miss Nightingale's 
 book of her experiences, which she has entitled very 
 modestly, " Notes on Nursing," is very much read, very, 
 
 340 
 
The End 
 
 much praised and will do a vast amount of good (here 
 in England, I mean, I am afraid not in Germany)— 
 
 God bless you, dearest Ottilie, remember you are to 
 write to me. I do not mind about long letters ; a few 
 lines will satisfy me, but you must write to me often. 
 
 your affect Anna. 
 
 This is the last letter that Anna ever wrote to her 
 beloved friend. " Keep the poor little home snug 
 and warm ; we must all sink into it at last, God 
 help us ! " she had written to her sisters in the 
 preceding year, feeling, no doubt, that her energies 
 were flagging ; but she was not destined to end 
 her days in that manner. She caught a chill one 
 day when returning from the British Museum on 
 foot, in a snowstorm, and passed away, after only a 
 week's illness, on March 17, i860. During her 
 last days her mind wandered and she spoke of 
 paintings and of some engravings shown to her 
 lately by Panizzi, the ruling passion being certainly 
 strong in death. 
 
 •When she died, her contemporaries felt that a 
 great personality had passed away, one whose place 
 would be difficult to fill. Among the many letters 
 preserved by her bereaved sisters, the following 
 extract from one written by Miss Emily Taylor to 
 Miss Parkes gives a good glimpse into her 
 character as seen by one of her old friends : — 
 
 I doubt, she writes, whether any known woman 
 in England would be followed to her grave by more 
 
 341 
 
Anna Jameson : Letters and Friendships 
 
 grateful attached friends. She was so generally just, 
 as well as kind. She could speak what she felt with 
 so much tact as well as truth ; she really was so 
 candid, and then with all her Irish heat there was so 
 much command, and in the main so successful a dis- 
 cipline of her fancy, that her poetic turn never spoiled 
 her simple, clear English mode of expressing herself ; 
 then her patience, her industry, her mastery of detail, 
 oh ! we have a loss indeed. 
 
 As a woman, Anna Jameson was loved and re- 
 spected ; as a writer, she enjoyed the privilege of 
 being appreciated in her lifetime, and it speaks well 
 for her solid studies and her sincerity of purpose, 
 that we have still a place on our library shelves 
 for those works which constituted the engrossing 
 interest of her busy life. 
 
 Perhaps her truest epitaph was contained in a 
 few words spoken by one of her friends : " She was 
 always at work and always trying to do good." 
 
 342 
 
INDEX 
 
 Albany, Countess of (Princess 
 Louise of Stolberg), 43 and 
 note I, 50 
 
 Alfieri, Count Vittorio, 50 
 
 Alma, Mr., 86, 104, 138, 139, 142, 
 146, 147 
 
 Alma, Mrs., 104, 139, 142, 147, 
 156 
 
 Alston, Mr., 160 
 
 d'Arnette, Madame, 117 
 
 Arnold, Mrs., 154 
 
 Arnold, Dr., 323 
 
 Ashbrook, Viscountess, 270 
 
 Ashworth, Miss Mary, 79 
 
 Aubert, Madame, 53 
 
 Austin, Alfred, 171, 172, 197 
 
 Austin, Mrs., 14, 162, 166 and 
 note I, 168, 171, 172 
 
 Austin, Miss Lucy (Lady Duff 
 Gordon), 171 and note i, 172 
 
 Austria, H.M. the Emperor of, 119 
 
 Austria, H.M. the Empress of, 119 
 
 Austria, Archduke and Arch- 
 duchess of, 308 
 
 d'Azeglio, Marquis, 179 
 
 Baillie, Miss Agnes, 273 and 
 
 note I 
 Baillie, Miss Joanna, 14, 205 and 
 
 note I, 273 note i 
 Banfield, Mr. and Mrs., 123, 124, 
 
 125, 126 
 Barrett, Miss Elizabeth, see 
 
 Browning, Mrs. Barrett. 
 
 Bate, Henry, 71, 73, 104, 126, 135 
 Bate, Mrs. (Miss Louisa Murphy), 
 17 note I, 26 note i, 29, 32,33, 
 44, 51, 66, 71, 73, 74, 83, 99, 112, 
 127, 160, 301, 303, 304 
 Bate, Miss Gcrardine (Mrs. Mac- 
 Pherson), 157, 160, 227, 233, 234, 
 235> 236, 268, 269, 270, 271, 273, 
 301, 302, 303, 305, 311, -313, 317, 
 
 319. 340 
 Bavaria, H.M. the King of, 266 
 Bayley, Miss, 276 
 Beauffrcmont, M. Ic due de, 174, 
 
 175 
 
 Beaufort, Admiral, 251, 256 
 Beauforts, the Miss, 251, 255, 270 
 Beaver, the (Indian chief), 142 
 Belloc, Madame. See Parkes, 
 
 Miss Bessie. 
 Bernadotte, Marshall, 107 
 Berr3's, the Miss, 172 
 Blessington, Lady, 238 
 Blo(nfield, Captain, 308 
 Boardman, Mr., 243 
 Bodichon, Madame, 325 note i, 
 
 326-31 
 Booths, the, 276 
 Bramlcy, Miss Mathilda, 137 
 Brookfield, Mr., 335 
 Bronte, Rev. Patrick, 335 
 firontii, Miss Charlotte, 29S and 
 
 note I, 299, 321, 335 
 Bronte, Miss Emily, 335 and note 
 
 2,336 
 
 343 
 
Ind 
 
 ex 
 
 Browning, Robert, 233, 262, 265, 
 
 ^1^, 307. 310. 323. 324 
 Browning, Mrs. Barrett, 232 and 
 
 note I, 233, 234, 235, 237, 275, 
 
 276, 306, 307, 310, 312, 322, 324 
 Browning, Miss Mabel, 275 
 Biownings, the, 14, 235, 309, 313, 
 
 314 
 
 Chippewas, the (tribe), 157 
 Chorley, Henry, 172, 173, 185, 193, 
 
 224, 253, 254, 299, 300 
 Clinton, Mrs. de Witt, 135 
 Cobden, Richard, 235 and note 4 
 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 275 
 
 and note i 
 Coleridge, Hartley, 275 and note i 
 
 Buffaloe, the Great (Indian Chief), ; Colmache, Madame, 217 
 
 142 I Comte, Melle., 177 
 
 Bulwer, Henry Lytton, 84, 216 ' Coombe, Mrs. (Cecilia Siddons), 
 Buol, Melle. Nannie, 338 86, 87, 228 
 
 Bur lowe, Henry, 98 and note 2, 299 Copeland, Mr., 62 
 
 Burns, the, 211 Coulburn, Mr., 76 
 
 Bury, Lady Charlotte, 235 ; Cowper, Mr. and Mrs., 335 
 
 Butler, Charles, 238 Cravens, the, 320 
 
 Butler, Mrs. Sec Kemble, Miss Creed, Mr., 33 
 
 Fanny. 
 
 Byron, Lord, 38, 219, 2S0 
 
 Byron, Lady Noel, 13, 14, iii 
 note I, 162, 164, 165, 199, 205, 
 206, 212, 215, 218 note I, 219, 
 220, 225, 265, 270, 273, 278, 279, 
 280, 281, 282, 283, 315 
 
 Byron, Miss Augusta Ada. See 
 Lovelace, Countess of. 
 
 Cadogan, Earl, 178 
 
 Cam, Mareschal de, 113 
 
 Cambridge, H.R.H. Duke of, 114 
 
 Campbell, Mr., 144 
 
 Canova, Marquis, 55 and note i 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 96, 99, 216, 298 
 
 Carlyle, Mrs., 293 
 
 Carpenter, Miss Mary, 335 and 
 
 note I 
 Carus, Dr., 340 
 Channing, Dr., 155 and note 2, 
 
 160, 211, 213, 216 
 Chantre}', Sir Francis, 288 and 
 
 note I, 289 
 Chapmans, the, 265 
 Charlotte, H.R.H. Princess, 22, 
 
 23, 79 and note i 
 
 Cresswell, Rev. Oswald, 219 
 
 Daly's, the, 252 
 
 Dannecker, A., 106 note i, 107 
 
 Davis, Charles Augustus, 135 
 
 Dawson, Lady Elizabeth, 178 
 
 Dawson, Mr., 249 
 
 Deer, White (Indian chief), 192 
 
 Devonshire, Georgina, Duchess of, 
 
 20 
 Devrient, Madame, 340 
 Dickens, Charles, 234, 296 and 
 
 note I 
 Dickens, Mrs. Charles, 247 
 Disbrowe, Lady, 106 
 Donnestomarck, Countess Hen- 
 
 kel von, 113, 114 
 Downing, Major, 135 
 Draper, Mrs., 141 
 Duer, Mr., 172 
 
 Dumas, Alexander, 178 note i 
 Duponchel, M., 189 
 Durham, Dean of, 175, 187, 191 
 
 Eastlake, Sir Charles, 290, 339 
 Eastlake, Lady, 263 and note i, 
 265 
 
 344 
 
Index 
 
 Edgeworth, Miss Maria, 14, 246, 
 250 and note, 251, 253, 254, 255, 
 257, 258. 
 
 Edgeworth, Mrs. Francis, 251, 
 253. 257. 258, 259 
 
 Edgeworth, Mrs. 251, 255 
 
 Egerton, Miss, 23 
 
 Ella, Mr., 186 
 
 Elgin, Countess of, 265, 324 
 
 Elssler, Fanny, 174 note i, 175, 
 176, 177, 182, 183, 184 note 1, 185, 
 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 
 198 
 
 Elssler, Madame, 185, 186 
 
 Erskine, Mrs., 263 
 
 Faucher, Madame, 179 
 Ferguson, Sir Adam, 228 
 Forster, Mrs., 204 
 Franklin, Lady, 340 
 Frescobaldi, Signor, 320 
 Fritsch, Countess, 113, 266 
 
 Gasgallo, Marchesa, 320 
 
 Gaskell, Mrs., 14, 292 and note i, 
 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 
 300, 321, 337 
 
 Gibbons, Colonel, 142 
 
 Gibson, John, 235 and note 2, 239, 
 240, 242, 244, 288, 290, 322 
 
 Glover, Mrs., 132 
 
 Goethe, Madame von (Baroness 
 Ottilie von Pogwisch), 13, 14,99, 
 100 and note i, loi, 102, 105, 
 107, 108, 113, 115, 116, 117, 127, 
 128, 133, 134, 148, 151, 159. 165, 
 184, 195, 230, 231, 232, 237, 267, 
 268, 269, 271, 272, 273, 274, 278, 
 284, 314, 315, 319, 332, 337, 338, 
 
 341 
 Goethe, August von, 100 and note i 
 
 lOI 
 
 Goethe, Walther von, 100 and note 
 I, 273, 334 
 
 Goethe, Wolfgang von, 100 and 
 note I, 271 
 
 Gordon, Sir John Watson, 229 
 
 Gore, Graham, 340 
 
 Greenhow, Mr., 169 
 
 Grote, George, 14, 174, 177, 185, 
 186, 188, 190, 191, 192, 196, 254 
 
 Grote, Mrs. George, 14, 162, 165, 
 173 and note 2, 174, 176, 178, 182, 
 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 190, 
 191, 19J, 193, 196, 197, 247, 249, 
 275 
 
 Haggermann, Attorney-General, 
 
 150 
 Haig, Mrs., 312 
 Hall, Mr. J. C, 88 
 Hallam, Mr., 192 
 Hawthorn, Nathaniel, 232 
 Hasendever, Mr., 268 
 Haydon, Mr., 287 
 Hayward, Mr., 109, 133, 283 
 Head, Sir Francis, 150 
 Helvig, Madame von, 100 
 Hepburn, Mr., 142 
 Herbert, Major, 311 
 Herbert, Douglas, 308 
 Herbert, Miss Fanny, 320 
 Herbert, Lady, 306, 310, 311 
 Herberts, the, 308, 314 
 Hohenthal, Countess, 151 
 HohenzoUern, Princess of, 117, 
 
 n8 
 Hook, Theodore, 199 and note 2 
 Hoppner, Mr., 42 
 Horner, Leonard, 295 
 Horner, Mrs., 295, 338 
 Hortons, the, 172 
 Hosmer, Miss Harriet, 243 and 
 
 note I, 245 
 Howitt, William, 198, 199 and 
 
 note I 
 Howitt, Miss Anna Mary, 326 and 
 
 note I 
 
 345 
 
Index 
 
 Humboldt, Alexander von, 127 
 Huskisson, Mrs., 242 
 
 Irving, Washington, 135 and 
 
 note I 
 Irving, Edward, 75 and note 3 
 
 Jameson, Robert, acquaintance 
 with, 25-7 ; indecision with re- 
 gard to, 32, 44, 53, 65-70 ; mar- 
 riage with, 71-3 ; helps her to 
 publish " The Diary of an 
 Ennuyee," 74 ; goes to Domi- 
 nica, 79 ; letters from, 83-6 and 
 92-4 ; goes to Toronto, 95 ; asks 
 his wife to join him there, 127 ; 
 unsatisfactory conduct, 134, 
 136-40 ; appointed Chancellor, 
 143, 144 ; unhappy life with, 
 149, 153 ; legal separation from, 
 158 ; resigns chancellorship, 
 274 ; death of, 284 
 
 Jameson, Mrs. (Anna Bromell 
 Murphy), early life, 17-21 ; goes 
 out as governess, 22 ; engaged 
 to R. Jameson and breaks it off, 
 25 ; goes abroad as governess, 
 26-38 : travels in Italy, 39-66 ; 
 marriage of, 71 ; publishes first 
 book, 74 ; friendship with Proc- 
 tors, 75-8 ; goes abroad again, 
 79-82 ; literary activity, 86 ; 
 departure of husband to 
 Canada, 94, 95 ; visits to Ger- 
 many and friendships there, 
 96-128 ; sets sail for Canada, 
 129 ; eventful vo)'age, 130-2 ; 
 arrives America, 134 ; journey 
 to Toronto, 136-9 ; life in 
 Canada, 140-6 ; visits Niagara, 
 147 ; and makes a tour among 
 the great lakes, 152-8 ; returns 
 to England, 161 ; literary society 
 in London, 162-4 > letters from 
 
 friends, 165-81 ; Mrs. Grote's 
 letters, 183-93 ; Adelaide Kem- 
 ble, 201, 202 ; visits Harriet 
 Martineau, 203-18 ; and Sea- 
 ham, 220, 221 ; Scotland, 225 ; 
 goes abroad, 230 ; the Brown- 
 ings, 232, 235 ; Rome, 236 ; 
 books written by, 236-7 ; visits 
 Ireland, 246-56 ; death of Maria 
 Edgeworth, 257 ; travels, 262- 
 73 ; granted a pension, 274 ; 
 quarrels with Lady Byron, 278- 
 83 ; death of husband, 284 ; 
 annuity given by friends, 284 ; 
 interest in public service work, 
 285, 286 ; letters from Mrs. Gas- 
 kell, 292, 299 ; Rome, 301-21 ; 
 letter from Mrs. Browning, 322 ; 
 declining health, 325 ; visits to 
 Bradford, 336, 337 ; last letter 
 to Ottilie von Goethe, 338-41 : 
 death of, 341, 342 
 
 Jecke, Mr. Tom, 198 
 
 Jeffries, Mrs., 320 
 
 Jewsbury, Miss Geraldine, 14, 88 
 and note i 
 
 Jewsbury, Miss M, J., 88 and note 
 I, 89, 90, 92 
 
 Johnstones, the, 105 
 
 Jones, Widow, 160 
 
 Jordan, Mr., 31 
 
 Kalm, Countess, 232 
 
 Kcmble, Charles, 94 
 
 Kemble, John, 162 and note 2, 291 
 
 Kemble, Miss Adelaide, 193 and 
 
 note 2, 194, 199, 200, 201, 277 
 Kemble, Miss Fanny (Mrs. Charles 
 
 Butler), 75 note 2, 92, 123, 155 
 
 and note 3, 159, 160, 169, 177, 
 
 191, 201, 235, 238, 277 
 Kembles, the, 162 
 Kenyon, Mr., 233 
 Ker, Mrs., 222 
 
 346 
 
Ind 
 
 ex 
 
 Koch, Madame, 105 
 Kroeber, 102 
 
 Landon, Miss Letitia Elizabeth, 
 
 164 and note i 
 Landseer, Sir Edwin, 284 and 
 
 note I, 285 
 Lavalette, Monsieur de, 174, 175, 
 
 188, 189, 190, 191 
 Leigh Egerton, Mr., 270 
 Levy, Miss Mathilda, 132 
 Lewis, George Henry, 197 and 
 
 note I 
 Lind, Jenny, 247 note i, 248, 249 
 Lindsay, Lady Charlotte, 172 
 Linher, Baron von, 113 
 Liszt, Frantz, 193 and note i 
 Littleton, Mr., 67, 70 
 Lockhart, Mrs., 267 
 Longman, Mr., 306, 315 
 Lovelace, Earl of, 279 
 Lovelace, Countess of (Miss 
 
 Augusta Ada Byron), 279, 280, 
 
 281, 282, 283 
 Lyons, Lord, 308 
 
 MacGowans, the, 29, 31 
 MacGregor, James Stratliallan, 
 Governor of Dominica, 85, 93, 
 
 94 
 MacGregor, Miss, 94 
 Mackenzie, Stewart, 265 
 Macmahon, Father Hugh, 316 
 MacMurray, Mr. and Mrs., 154 
 MacPherson, Robert, ^236, 301, 
 
 303 
 Macready, William Charles, 162 
 Macready, Mrs., 71 
 Mairs, the, 227, 228 
 Mallet, Maud Madame, 174 
 Manzoni, Madame, 179 
 Marcet, Mrs., 256 and note i 
 Marliani, Madame, 180 
 Martin, Mr., 328, 329 
 
 Martineau, Miss Harriet, 14, 160, 
 168 note I, 169, 172, 203, 205, 
 206, 218, 220-4, 229, 289 
 
 Martineau, James, 168 
 
 Martin, Dr., 106, 108 
 
 Marryat, Captain, 159 
 
 Melbourne, Viscount, 290 
 
 Mendelssohn, Felix Bartholdy, 
 
 253> 254 
 Mertens, Madame, loi, 103, 104 
 
 105, 267. 303. 313. 315 
 Metternich, Prince, 116 
 Milnes, R. Moncton, 216, 335 
 Mitchell, Alexander, 226 
 Mitchell, Mrs., 200, 201 
 Mitford, Miss Mary, 14, 170 and 
 
 note I, 233 
 Mohl, Madame, 15, 230 and note i, 
 
 263, 265, 323 
 Montague, Basil, 78 
 Montague, Mrs. Basil, 74, 77, 79, 
 
 183 
 Monson, Lady, 200, 201, 225, 226 
 Montgomery, Miss, 340 
 Morgan, Lady, 105 note i, 107 
 Morghen, Monsieur, 51 
 Moses, Mr. and Mrs. Solomon, 132 
 Murphy, Denis BrowncU, 17, 18, 
 
 19, 48, 67, 68, 79, 107, 120, 149, 
 
 152, 225, 281 
 Murphy, Mrs., 29, 39, 67, 69, 97, 
 
 115, 123, 129, 156, 159, 225 
 Murphy, Miss Charlotte, 17 note 
 
 I. 20, 55, 57, 97, 98, 103, 104, 107 
 
 112, 123, 151, 153, 159, 170, 203, 
 
 204, 205, 229, 233, 246, 250, 265, 
 
 268, 271, 273, 274, 305, 306, 309, 
 
 312, 319; 334. 338 
 Murphy, Miss Eliza, 17 note i, 24, 
 
 27. 32, 36, 51, 61, 66, 67, 68, 97, 
 
 112 
 Murray, Hon. Amelia, 154 and 
 
 note I 
 Murray, John, 176, 199 and note 3 
 
 347 
 
Index 
 
 Napoleon, Louis, Emperor of the 
 French, 21, 263 and note 2 
 
 Nightingale, Miss Florence, 340 
 
 Noel, Sir Gerard, 79, 81, 82, 96, 
 106 
 
 Noel, Miss Harriet Jane, 81 
 
 Noel, Mrs., 269 
 
 Noel, Robert, 14, 97, 98, 99, 109, 
 III, 116, 151, 193, 231, note I, 
 270, 271, 272, 278, 280, 340 
 
 Noltiz, Countess, 270 
 
 Normanby, Marchioness of, 317 
 
 Norton, Hon. Mrs., 290 and note 2, 
 291, 238 
 
 Novello, Mellc. Clara, 246 
 
 O'Brian, Smith, 251 
 Ottawas, the, 157 
 
 Panizzi, Antonio, 341 
 
 Parkes, Josiah, 197 
 
 Parkes, Miss Bessie, 325 note 2, 
 
 336, 341 
 Pavey, Mr. and Mrs., 118 
 Peel, Sir Robert, 207, 239, 290 
 Pembroke, Countess of, 186 
 Pichler, Caroline von, 118 note i 
 Pillet, Monsieur, 189 
 Pogwisch, Baroness von, 113, 151 
 Pogwisch, Baroness Ulrike von, 
 
 133 
 Pope, the, 52, 57, 64, 305, 311, 
 
 316, 322 
 Pottowollomies, the, 157 
 Procter, Miss Adelaide, 75 note 4, 
 
 76, 77, 161, 162, 182, 183, 202, 
 
 273, 291, 292, 334 
 Proctor Bryan (Barry Cornwall), 
 
 70, 75 and note i, 76, 163 
 Proctor, Mrs., 14, 75, 77, 130, 170, 
 
 133, 184, 193, 198, 270, 274, 277, 
 
 285,311,314 
 Prout, Father (Francis Sylvester 
 
 Mahony), 323 and note 2 
 
 Prussia, Princes William and 
 Charles of, 114 
 
 Quain, Madame du, 323 
 
 Railtons, Mr., 286 
 Rathbones, the, 335 
 Reeve, Henry, 14, 172, 173 and 
 note I, 178, 181, 192, 237, 238, 
 
 239 
 Reid, Mrs., 207 
 
 Retzch, Moritz, 108 note 2, iii 
 Rideout, Percival, 137 
 Rio, Alexis, 203 and note i, 204 
 Robertsons, the, 280 
 Robinson, H. C, 275 
 Rocca, Monsieur, 37 
 Rogers, Samuel, 162 and note i 
 Roscoe, Mr., 240 
 Rosse, Earl of, 251, 252 
 Rosse, Countess of, 252 
 Rossetti, Miss Christina, 194 
 Rowles, Mr., 24, 28, 35, 36, 37, 38, 
 
 43. 44. 51. 52. 58. 61, 62 
 Rowles, Mrs., 24, 25, 28, 30, 31, 35, 
 
 38, 41,42, 46,48, 52,60,61 
 Rowles, Miss Laura, 24, 25, 40, 47, 
 
 67 
 Rowles, Miss Louisa, 34 and note 
 
 I. 35. 38 
 Rowles, Henry, 25 
 Rowles, the, 25, 26, 63 
 Royal, H.R.H. Princess, 317 and 
 
 note I 
 Ruskin, John, 9, 244 
 Russel, Mr., 246 
 Russia, H.M. the Empress of, 115, 
 
 305 
 
 St. Leger, Miss Harriet, 14 
 Sandbach, Mrs., 239, 240, 243 
 Sand, Georges, 180 and note i 
 Sartoris, Mrs. See Kemble, Miss 
 Adelaide. 
 
 348 
 
Ind 
 
 ex 
 
 Sartoris, Charles, 200, 201 
 Saunders, Frederick, 132, 140, 141 
 Saxe-Coburg, Prince Leopold of, 
 
 79 
 Saxony, H.S.H. the Princess of, 
 
 205, 237 
 Scheffer, Ary, 265 
 Schlegel, August, 103 note i, 104, 
 
 106 
 Schlossers, the, 198 
 Schopenhauer, Madame, 98 note 
 
 I, 105 
 Schopenhauer, Melle. Adele, loi 
 
 note I, 102, 103 
 Schopenhauer, Arthur, loi 
 Scott, Mrs., 139 
 Scotts, the, 295 
 Shadow, Wilhelm, 268 
 Shelley, Mrs., 89 and note i 
 Sherwin, Frank, 115, 120 
 Shewin, Mrs. (Camilla Murphy), 
 
 17 and note i, 46, 63, 66, 67, 73 
 
 note I, 99, 115, 122, 204, 225, 270, 
 
 306, 307, 312, 313, 315, 321, 338 
 Shireff, Miss, 167 and note i 
 Shrewsbury, Earl of, 247 
 Siddons, Mrs., 87 note i 
 Siddons, Mrs. Henry ,208, 212, 213, 
 
 225, 228 
 Siddons, Miss Cecilia, See Combe, 
 
 Mrs. 
 Simpson, John, 179 
 Sedgwick, Miss Catherine, 158 
 
 note I, 160, 177, 209 
 Serre, Mme. de, 340 
 Smith, Miss Julia, 208, 211 
 Smith, Rev. Sydney, 187 note i, 193 
 Southey, 275 
 Spottiswoode, the, 313 
 Stael, Mme. dc, 37, 49, 97, 102, 107, 
 
 115 
 Stanley of Alderley, Lord, 274 
 Stanley, Rev. Edward (Bishop of 
 
 Norwich), 248 and note i, 249 
 
 Stanley, Mrs., 248 and note i, 249^ 
 
 250 
 Stephens, Mr., 122 
 Stevens, Alfred, 290 note i 
 Stirling, Miss, 263 
 Stowe, Mrs. Beecher, 283 note i 
 Stubinge, Miss, 265 
 Sumner, 188, 190 
 Szschenyi, Countess, 125 
 Szschenyi, Countess Julie, 118 
 
 Taglioni, Marie, 174, 193 and 
 
 note 3 
 Talbot of Malahide, Colonel, 154 
 
 157 
 Talbot, Miss, 247 
 Talleyrand, M. de, 156, 217 
 Taylor, Tom, 287 and note i, 
 
 288 
 Taylor, Miss Emily, 215, 341 
 Taylor, Philip, 179 
 Thackera)', William Makepeace, 
 
 100, 274 
 Thomas, Miss, 20 
 Thommesal, Professor, 175 
 Thun family, the, 231 
 Thun, Count Francis, 121, 231 
 Thun, Countess, 121 
 Tieck, Ludwig, 108 and note i 
 Tocqueville, Madame, 180 
 Tree, Miss Ellen, 162, 173 
 Trelawny, Edward, 165 
 Triqueti, Monseiur de, 204, 265 
 Triqueti, Madame de, 204 note i, 
 
 263 
 Trollope, Mrs., 103 note 2, 105, 
 
 310 
 Turner, General, 23 
 Tuscany, Grand Duke of, 47 
 Twistleton, Mr. and Mrs., 323 
 
 Vere, Lady Elizabeth, 193 
 Victoria, H.M. Queen, 23, 154, 155, 
 161, 162, 180, 244, 259, 260, 274 
 
 349 
 
Index 
 
 Villemain, Monsieur, 323 
 Voeux, Charles des, 340 
 
 Waagen, Dr., 339 
 
 Wales, H.R.H. the Prince of, 244 
 
 Wedgwood, Miss, 293 
 
 Weimar, the Grand Duchess of, 
 
 113 and note i, 114, 266 
 Wellington, Duke of, 290 
 Westmacott, Sir Richard, 289 
 
 note I 
 Westmeath, Countess of, 178 
 Whateley, Archbishop, 259, 260, 
 
 261 
 Whately, Mrs., 259, 261 
 Whately, Miss Jane, 260 
 
 Whately, Miss Mary, 260 
 Wichoff, M., 188, 190, 191 
 William IV, H.M. King, 154, 155 
 Winchester, Marchioness of, 23 
 
 and note i 
 Wizley, Madame, 177 
 Woltzogen, Madame, 100 
 Wordsworth, William, 25, 84, 88, 
 
 229, 275 
 Wurtemburg, H.M. the Queen of, 
 
 107 
 Wyatts, Mrs., 20 
 
 Yokeley, Miss, 18 
 
 Zichy, Countess, 118, 125 
 
 350 
 
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