January-September 1845

The Collected Letters, Volume 19


TC TO LADY HARRIET BARING ; 11 July 1845; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18450711-TC-LHB-01; CL 19: 95-96


I could not see you. They tell me you are not well too. The Housemaid said you were better; but did not seem to know much about it. Why will you dine at 7 o'clock, and waste yourself with the frivolities of this generation? Are you of no value to any one, then!— I wish we were all safe at Alverstoke,1 reading German, or sitting silent; far from all noise that had no meaning in it. I wish you were well again, at least!—

My wife returned in much satisfaction with Addiscombe and her visit,—tho' she had slept but three hours all the time, and could not make much way into new acquaintanceship in that sad state of the nerves! You will come and see us here when you come back, —will you not?

I saw you on Wednesday for half a moment, and did not know clearly till after you were past. On Constitution-Hill2 about four o'clock. I must make that serve for a week. It is the brightest star in all the week's firmament, perhaps the only star there;—let me be thankful for it, poor little star! I am really worn to death; and very sick of most things.

Good night. The old Chelsea clock is striking midnight: the sun is right under our feet, and wet winds are blustering,—and the quantity of insane confusion in this world is very great. Shall we ever have wings, think you? Ach Gott!— I send you blessings as ever, and the best Good night.

Ewig [Eternally], /


Chelsea, 11 july 1845—