Love Letters of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Volume 2 of 2

Mrs. Dana (the elder poet's wife, I believe) called here in a barouche the other day, while Julian and I were out, to see Una, whom she sup[posed] to be stopping here? She had two or three young ladies with her, and would probably have asked Una to make a visit at their villa.

Elizabeth came to see us, Tuesday afternoon, and brought some more books. I proposed that she should take advantage of our escort to Concord; but she says she cannot be ready before the first week of September.

It is time we were gone from hence; for everybody seems to have found us out, and Julian says the boys shout at him from the cliffs, crying "Mr. Hawthorne! Mr. Hawthorne!!" I don't know whether they mistake him for his father, or pay him these courteous attentions on his own account.

You may await tea for us on Saturday – unless the old people chance to be very hungry.

With utmost love,

N. H.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

(Letter 50 – written by Julian Hawthorne, and continued by N. H.; no date or superscription.)

Willy has been making a topmast for his ship, but by the way I have forgot about his ship. He made it and it is 29 inches long, and about three tuns. He has made a beautiful solid balance for it and he says it looks just like a real ship he has made or is going to make

Dearest Wife,

Julian did not finish his letter; but I suppose thou wilt be glad to receive it, such as it is. It rains again most horribly to-day; so that I have been obliged to leave him at home, where he finds society enough and the greatest kindness. I believe I told you, in one of my former letters, that he has quite left off hunching his shoulders. He has complained of the headache, now and then, but not often; and Dr. Dryasdust has promised to take him in hand, and entirely refit him – that is, if he prove to be out of repair.

Do not forget to tell me whether Mr. Westen's coal-bill was paid.

I hoped to have received letters from thee by the Cintra, which arrived here day before yesterday, having left Lisbon on the 15th. She reports the Madrid as having arrived on the Friday after sailing. I long to know whether thy cough yet begins to be benefitted by the sunshine, and whether thou findest again the elasticity of frame and spirit, which thou leftest behind in America. Since thou hast departed, I sometimes feel a strange yearning for the Wayside, and wish that our wanderings were over, and all of us happy together in that wretched old house.

Thine Own Ownest.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, March 9th, '62

Dearest Wife,

Wishing to spend a little while in New York, we did not leave there till 2 o'clock, yesterday, and so are not yet in Washington. I had a pleasant time in New York, and went on Friday evening, by invitation, to the Century Club, where I met various artists and literary people. The next forenoon, Ticknor strolled round among his acquaintances, taking me with him. Nothing remarkable happened, save that my poor old bedevilled phizmahogany was seized upon and photographed for a stereoscope; and as far as I could judge from the negative, it threatens to be fearfully like.

The weather here is very warm and pleasant; there are no traces of snow and it seems like the latter end of April. I feel perfectly well, and have a great appetite. The farther we go, the deeper grows the rumble and grumble of the coming storm, and I think the two armies are only waiting our arrival to begin.

We expect to leave Philadelphia at 8¼ tomorrow morning, and shall reach Washington at 6 o'clock P.M. It I have an opportunity, I shall send off Una's note the same evening, but cannot tell how.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

[9th May, 1863, Concord]

Dearest Wife,

I have been particularly well yesterday and to-day. You must particularly thank Mr. Fields for the two volumes of the magazine. The article about Lichfield and Uttoxeter is done; and I shall set about the remaining article for the magazine in a day or two, and probably get it finished by the end of the month, since it will not be necessary to hurry. I shall call it "Civic Banquets," and I suppose it will be the concluding article of the volume.

I want a new hat, my present one being too shabby to wear anywhere but at home; and as Mr. Fields is all made up of kindness, I thought he might be kind enough to get me one at his hatter's. I have measured my old hat round outside of the hatband, and it is about 24 inches; inside, it measures 7 inches one way, and a little more than 8 the other, and is hardly large enough. Get the largest hat possible; color black, a broad brimmed slouch.

Thank Rose for her kind letter.

Your Spouse.

(On the reverse side of the foregoing letter appears the following, written by Una)

All Rose's side of the hawthorn is covered with buds, and my wild violets are rampant. I water your hawthorn branches every morning, and as yet they have showed no signs of fading, though Papa, with his usual hopefulness, declares they will. We found today on the hill a lonely violet, the first of that sisterhood.

Julian appears well and jolly, but yesterday we were all killed by eating newly-dug horse-radish, which was as pungent as a constellation of stars. Papa stamped and kicked, and melted into tears, and said he enjoyed it intensely, and I bore equal tortures more quietly; the impregnable Julian being entirely unaffected by it, laughed immoderately at us both.

Papa wants me to leave a place for him, so good-bye.

Your loving daughter,

Una Hawthorne.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

Dearest wife.

I have nothing to say except that a hen has vouchsafed to lay two eggs in our barn, and I have directed that one shall be left as a nest egg; so that you can have a fresh dropt egg every morning for breakfast, after your return.

Una has considerably improved our table; and I like this new cook much better than poor Ann.

Do not mind what Una says about staying away longer, but come whenever you like; though I think you have hardly been away long enough to want to see us again.

Thine

N. H.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

Boston, July 3d, 3½ o'clock

Dearest Wife,

Mr. Fields tells me that a proof sheet was sent to Concord to-day, and he wishes it to be sent to him in Boston, so that I may look over it on Monday. You must put two one-cent postage stamps.

This has been a terrifically hot day. I shall leave for Concord (N. H.) at five o'clock, and shall mail this scribble there, so that you may know that I have arrived safely.

With love to the old people,

Thine,

N. H.

TO MRS. HAWTHORNE

The Wayside, Sunday morng., Sept. 29th

Dearest,

We were disappointed in not receiving a letter last night, but doubt not all is going on well with you; – only that miserable headache. Why was this world created? And thy throat too – which thou wilt never be at the trouble of curing.

We get on bravely here, in great quiet and harmony; and except that life is suspended (with me, at least) till thou comest back again, I do not see how things could go better. We tried hard to be wretched on Fast Day, in compliance with thy advice; but I think it did not succeed very well with the two young people; nor could I perceive that anybody really fasted, except myself, who dined on potatoes and squash, as usual. I did purpose indulging myself in a plate of hot soup; but thy exhortations were so earnest that I gave up the idea, and am doubtless the better for my abstinence – though I do not as yet see that the country has profited thereby.

Mr. Wetherbie came to see me with his bill; but I informed him of thy orders not to pay it without some subtraction, and told him he must await thy return – which he seemed not unwilling to do. He is going to the wars! – as a dragoon!! – for he says he has all his life been fond of military service, and the captain of his troop is an "old military associate." Thou wouldst have thought, to hear him talk, that this gallant Wetherbie was a veteran of at least twenty campaigns; but I believe the real motive of his valiant impulses consists in his having nothing else to do, and in his being dazzled by the sight of $200 in gold, which W. brought home – where he could have got it (unless by robbing the dead) I can't imagine; for his wages for three months would not have been more than $40. But really, dearest, the spirit of the people must be flagging terribly, when a sick old man like Wetherbie is accepted as a bold dragoon! It shows that good soldiers cannot be had.

Julian has had his hair cut according to his own notions; so thou must expect to see a scarecrow.

Do not thou come home on Wednesday, if it can do any good either to thyself or Bab to stay longer. But thou hast still another expedition to make, and the cold weather will soon be upon us. Kiss Bab for me and believe me

Thy Own Ownest.