August 1843-March 1844

The Collected Letters, Volume 17


TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 6 September 1843; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18430906-TC-JWC-01; CL 17: 112-113


Kirkcaldy 6 Septr (Wednesday Morning) / 1843—

Goody Dearest, what on earth has become of thee? It is a full week since I heard a word; and surely I myself have written with exemplary diligence! I made myself cock-sure of a Letter at Edinburgh on Monday; in fact, walked in quite as if I had it: there was none. “Are you sure?” None, Sir!— And here today again the Mondays Post has arrived, and not a line from Jeannie. Do, write, wilt thou! Nay I am not without hope of an Edinburgh Letter after all; for I have sent again to inquire by the Kirkcaldy Carrier, and he is to return this afternoon at four o'clock. You got the Haddington Letter written on Monday?

Since that date various disappointments, small mischances more in number than during all my journey, have befallen me. No Letter from Goody; Portmanteau at Gordon's irrecoverable as my Omnibus passed, the servant being out and the house dead: item, hole burnt in the skirt of my Coat by a cigar fusee; item misdirected into the Dysart Steamer in place of the Kirkcaldy one; item &c &c! Nay yesterday worst of all going out to ride and call for Cousin Walter,1 I found Cousin Walter and even his Landlady clean gone; I thereupon rode round by the Coast, the beautifullest or nearly so in all the world, and there on perfectly flat road at perfectly moderate pace, the horse fell with me,—peeled its own knees, and bruised me on the ancle, elbow &c (nothing to speak of)! I will ride no more on it. Happily I am no worse at all, only stiffish a little; I am to drive off with Fergus in ten minutes to Lesslie2 the weather being beautiful.

O Dearest I wish to Heaven I were beside thee! But it will not be many days now. I think of Saturday sometimes; but fear I must take in Erskine too, and then it cannot be till this day week that I get off. I do not think of going over to Edinr again, except it quite suit, and then only for one day. I will write tomorrow to say what I specially determine on.

Incidentally I hear that Jack and you were calling for Elizabeth;3 I try to convince myself that if anything were wrong I should hear of it thro' that channel.— We have visitors here, a Yorkshire Mr & Miss Ellerton(?),4 well enough; by no means charming to me. This house is full of wax-lights, down sofas, assiduous flunkies and other sumptuosities,—considerably the most sumptuous house I have been in during these travels. The kind hospitalities of the people are beyond praise: but the flunkies, the formalities the late dinner; and I cannot sleep!

Adieu Dearest; my time is up. If you have written already do not write again till you hear tomorrow.

Love to Jack; kisses and almost tears to thee / T. C.