TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE ; 19 August 1842; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18420819-TC-JWC-01; CL 15: 30-31
TC TO JANE WELSH CARLYLE
Chelsea, Friday [19 August 1842]—
Inclosed here is the produce of the Post-Office today; read it, and burn it. I have not yet read Swinfen Jervis;1 do thou at least read him,—or keep him unburnt for a while that he may have a chance!
No adventure whatever yesterday; except a call from Stimabile to Jeannie, we were all still as August in London. I went to Cochrane the blockhead, and found that his Neibuhr2 Book was not under my name at all, but merely under that of a man standing next me on his Books! I called for Chas Buller; in vain: I mean to try again today. After dinner I fell into a sleep as of lead; could hardly awaken again all evening, not even when I went out to an hour's walking. Jeannie had walked a little by herself about Post-time. About bedtime arose noise of drunken riot, which ceased not all over the neighbourhood till midnight. Mere gin and brutalism. Mazeppa was kicking in the rear. I hoped it was quieter with you at Troston!— Nevertheless I dropped rapidly again into leaden sleep, into nightmare &c, and slept in a leaden manner for some eight hours,—awakening altogether ourie [chill], and in great want of a shower-bath, which I straightway got. I have been trying the pen all morning: ay de mi!
Lancashire appears to be in considerable effervescence. Read Ballantyne's Letter: his Newspaper I could send too, but I know you will not read it; so off it fares to Dumfries. At any rate the Letter contains a summary of all; which is a mere tumultuary trooping of a Hunger-mob.3 I have actually uttered a forbidden curse on Graham,4 Peel & Co, and feel that one's blood cannot continue cool at sight of men shot for famine—not, in these times, by these men.— Adieu, dearest. Tomorrow there will be a letter! Adieu! T. C