Thou madest this intellignece known with such
perfect composure and sanq jroid not particu
larly addressing me, but the company generally
that it benumbed my thoughts and feelings, so
that I had nothing to say. Thou wast perfectly
decided, and I had only to submit without a word.
But, hereupon, thy sister Elizabeth, who was like
wise present, informed the company, that, in this
state of affairs, having ceased to be thy husband,
I of course became hers; and turning to me, very
coolly inquired whether she or I should write to
inform my mother of the new arrangement !
How the children were to be divided, I know not.
I only know that my heart suddenly broke loose,
and I began to expostulate with thee in an infinite
agony, in the midst of which 1 awoke; but the
sense of unspeakable injury and outrage hung
about me for a long time and even yet it has not
quite departed. Thou shouldst not behave so,
when thou comest to me in dreams.
I had a letter from Bridge, yesterday, dated in
the latter part of April. He seems to be having
a very pleasant time with his wife; but I do not
understand that she is, as the Germans say, "of
good hope." In the beginning of the letter, he
says that Mrs. Bridge will return to America this
summer. In another part, he says that the ship
185.
iii which he is will probably return late in the au
tumn; but he rather wishes that it may fbe] de
layed till Spring, because Mrs. Bridge desires to
spend the winter in Italy.
Oh, Phoebe, I want thee much. My bosom
needs thy head upon it, -thou alone art essential.
Thou art the only person in the world that ever
was necessary to me. Other people have occa
sionally been more or less agreeable; but I think I
was always more at ease alone than in anybody s
company, till I knew thee. And now I am only
myself when thou art within my reach. Thou
art an unspeakably beloved woman. How
couldst thou inflict such frozen agony upon me, in
that dream ! Thou shouldst have caressed me
and embraced me.
But do not think, much as I want thee, that I
wish thee to come as long as thou judgest it good
for the children to be away, and as long as thou
thinkest we can afford the expense. We have a
pervading happiness, that goes on whether we are
present or absent in the body. Their happiness
depends upon time and place; and the difference
to them between town and country must be almost
that of a cage or the free air, to the birds. And
then it is so much better for their health.
Hast thou remembered to ask Mrs. Mann
186
whether little Pick Mann was namec^ out of pure
gratitude and respect for the old refugee Colonel,
or whether there was not a little earthly alloy
an idea of gilding an ugly name with a rich
legacy?
Ownest, if I write any more, it would be only to
try to express more lovings, and longings and as
they are impossible to express, I may as well close.
My only belovedest,
THY BEST BELOVED.
j
Mrs! Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Salem, July it, 1848
Ownest, How long is it since I heard from thee
and what an eternity since thou didst go away*
It seems at least as long as the whole time that we
have been married. My heart calls for thee, very
loudly, and thou comest not. And I want to hear
our children s voices; it would be pleasant, even,
to see little Tornado in one of her tantrums. She
is a noble child. Kiss her and Bundlebreech for
me, and talk to them about me, lest I be entirely
forgotten.
If , this had been a pleasant day, I should proba
bly have gone to New York on Custom-House
business; but it being thick and dismal, I shall
give up the expedition, although it would have
been a very favorable opportunity. I should
have been back here on Wednesday morning;
and as one of the intervening days is Sunday, and
188
another the Fourth of July, only a single day of
attendance at my office would have been lost.
Best of all, it would have cost nothing.
Dora has a great deal of work to do; but she
neglects nothing appertaining to my comfort.
Aunty Ouisa has favored me with one cup of
coffee, since thou wentest away, and with an oc
casional doughnut; but I think thy lectures on
diet and regimen have produced a considerable
effect.
Dearest, is thy absence so nearly over that we
can now see light glimmering at the end of it?
Is it half over? If not, I really do not see how
I am to bear it. A month of non-existence is the
utmost limit
I am continual!}- interrupted as I write, this
being pay-day, and a very busy time. I don t
know exactly what will be the amount of our
fees; but I should think it would be about as
good a month as the last. Thirty-five dollars,
however, have already been drawn for our quar
ter s rent. If thou wantest any more money, as
probably thou dost, write me how much, and I
will send it. How much must I reserve to pay
Rebecca s wages? Any surplus, I intend to
ply in lessening Millet s bill.
Here comes somebody else.
189
Ownest wife,
I am the best, and truest, and lovingest hus
band that ever was, because thy goodness makes
me so.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton, Mass.
190
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
purveyor" i Office, July fth, 1848
Unspeakably belovedest, thy letter has just
been handed me, and I snatch a moment from
much press of business to say a word to thee. It
has made my heart heave like the sea, it is so ten
der and sweet. Ah, thou hast my whole soul.
There is no thinking how much I love thee; and
* how blessed thy love makes me. I wonder how
thou canst love me.
Thy letter was also most comfortable to me,
because it gives such a picture of thy life there
with the children. It seemed as if I could see
the whole family of my heart before my eyes,
and could hear you all talking together. I be
gan to be quite uneasy about little Bundle-
breech s indisposition, until thy latest intelli
gence reassured me. Yet I shall be anxious to
hear again.
Dora could not come to Boston yesterday, to.
tfifcet Rebecca, because she has ah infinity 5^
work, and moreover, yesterday morning, she had
to go to bed with the tooth-ache.
I went to Boston to see the fireworks, and got
home between 11 & 12 o clock, last evening. I
went into the little room to put on my linen coat;
and, on my return into the sitting room, behold!
a stranger there whom dost thou think it might
be? it was Elizabeth! I did not wish to risk
frightening her away by anything like an exhibi
tion of wonder ; and so we greeted one another
kindly and cordially, but with no more empresse-
went than if we were constantly in the habit of
meeting. It being so late, and I so tired, we did
not have much talk then; but she said she meant
to go to walk this afternoon, and asked me to go
with her which I promised to do. Perhaps
she will now make it her habit to come down and
see us occasionally in the evening.
Oh, my love, my heart calls for thee so, that I
know not how to wait weeks longer for thee.
Yet I would not that thou shouldst deprive the
children of the beautiful country on that ac
count. All will be repaid us in the first hour of
meeting. ,
Own wife, the coat does not crock the shirt
sleeve in the least so thy labor in lining it
would have been thrown away. I gave the vest
192
to Louisa soon after thou wcntest away, and have
seen nothing of it since.
I wish Una, and Julian too, would write a let
ter to Aunty Ouisa. I know it would give her
as much pleasure as anything can.
With infinite love,
I am THINE OWNEST.
Naughtiest, I do not leave thy letter about.
I would just as soon leave my own heart on the
"walking side," as Una calls it
Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton,
93
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Salem, July 7^, 1848
Ownest, when thy letters come, I always feel
as if I could not have done without them a mo
ment longer. Thou must have received one
from me since the date of thine, but I hope it
will not weary thee to receive this brief scribble-
ment. If my hand would onl\ answer to my
heart, what letters I should write thee! It is
wonderful the growth of our love! Six years
ago, it seemed infinite; yet what was the love of
that epoch to the present! Thou badest me burn
two pages o fthy last letter; but I cannot do it,
and w r ill not; for never was a wife s deep, warm,
chaste love so Well expressed, and it is as holy to
me as the Bible. Oh, I cannot begin to tell how
I love thee.
Dearest, I should not forgive myself if I were
to deprive the children of the country. Thou
must keep them there as long as thou canst.
When thou hast paid thy visit to Sarah Clark, I
194
must come and see thee in Boston, and if possible
(and if I shall be welcome) will spend a Sunday
there with thee.
There is no news. Miss Derby has finished
her picture, and it is now being publicly exhib
ited. I have not yet seen it, but mean to go.
Mr. Pike is going to dine with me to-day, on
green peas.
Oh, for one kiss!
THY LOVINOEST HUSBAND.
Did Julian have a tooth? or what was the
matter? Why did all the children have fever-
fits? Why was Horace jumped in a wet sheet?
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne.
195
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
^ July ii h, 1848
Dearest Phoebe, I enclose an advertisement of
silks. Aunty Ouisa would like to have, you get
some patterns of those which she has marked
with a pencil.
A letter from Mrs. F. Shaw came for thee to
day.; and I opened and read it. It contains noth
ing that requires thy immediate perusal; and as
it is rather bulky, I do not send it. She is well,
and so is Caroline Sturgis.
I hear great accounts of the canary birds, now
exhibiting in Boston; and it seems to me thou
mightest please Una very much by taking her to
see them.
I need thee very much indeed, and shall heart
ily thank God when thou comest back to thine
own home and thine ownest husband. What
a wretched time thou art having on that infernal
mattress - Truly do I pity thee, cooped up in
that hot and dusty house, such a day as this.
196
Were it not for Dr. Wesselhoeft, I should think
it best for thee to get away immediately.
Did Una remember me, when she waked up?
and has little Bundlebreech wanted me*? and
dost thou thyself think of me with moderate
kindness? Oh, Phoebe, it is too great a sacrifice
this whole blank month in our wedded life.
I want thec always.
THY LOVINOEST SPOUSE.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
Boston, Massachusetts,
-107
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Saltm, July i8< h , 1848
Belovedest, thy letter came yesterday, and
caused my heart to heave like an ocean. Thou
writest with a pen of celestial fire; none ever
wrote such letters hut thou none is worthy to
read them hut I and I only because thou puri-
fiest and exaltest me by thy love. Angels, I
doubt not, are well pleased to look over thy shoul
der as thou writest. I verily believe that no
mortals, save ourselves, have ever known what
enjoyment was. How wonderful that to the
pure in spirit all earthly bliss is given in a meas
ure which the voluptuary never can have dreamed
of.
Soon soon -thou wilt be at home. What
joy! I count the days, and almost the hours, al
ready. There is one good in our separation
that it has enabled us to estimate whereabouts we
arc, and what vast progress we have made into
the ever-extending infinite of love. Wherefore,
198
this will not be a blank space, but a bright one,
in our recollection.
Dearest, I told Louisa of thy wish that she
should come on Saturday; and it seemed that the
proposal found favor in her eyes. If not, she
will perhaps commission thee to buy her a gown.
Elizabeth came down to see me last evening,
and we confabulated till eleven o clock.
Dora is dying to see thee and the children.
The fortune teller has foretold that she is not to
marry poor Mr. Hooper, nor anybody else that
has been hitherto in question; but a young man,
who, Dora says, lives in Boston. She has thor
ough faith in the prediction. ,
I forgot to take those two volumes of Cooper s
Miles Wallingford; and when I was last in Bos
ton, I looked for them on the shelf in vain. If
they may conveniently be had, when thou comest
home, wilt thou please to give thyself the trouble
of taking them.
Kiss our beloved children for me.
Thou art coming home! Thou art coming
home !
THINE OWNEST HUSBAND.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
Boston, Massachusetts!
499
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Castlf Dismal, Novr. i8 h, 1848
Oivnest Phoebe,
Thy letter did not come till to-day; and I
know not that I was ever more disappointed and
impatient for I was sure that it ought to have
come yesterday, and went to the Post Office three
times after it. Now I have nothing to tell thee,
belovedest wife, but write thee just a word, be
cause I must. Thou growest more and more ab
solutely essential to me, every day we live. I
never knew how thou art intertwined with my
being, till this absence.
Darl ingest, thou hast mentioned Horace s
sickness two or three times, and I have speculated
somewhat thereupon. Thou hast removed to
West-street, likewise, and reservest the reasons
till we meet. I wonder whether there be any con
nection between these two matters. But I do
not feel anxious. If I am not of a hopeful na
ture, at least my imagination is not suggestive of
200
evil. If Una were to have the hooping-cough, I
should be glad thou wast within Dr. Wessel-
hoeft s sphere.
What a shadowy day is this! While this
weather lasts, thou canst not come.
THY BELOVEDEST HUSBAND.
Do not hasten home on my account stay as
long as thou deemest good. I well know how
thy heart is tugging thec hitherward.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
Boston, Massachusetts.
201
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
14 Mull street, Monday, [Salem^ i6 th April, 1849
Owncst wife,
I suppose thou wilt not expect (nor wish for) a
letter from me; hut it is so desolate and lonesome
here that I needs must write. This is a miser
able time. Thy and the children s absence; and
this dreary bluster of the wind, which at once ex
asperates and depresses me to the very last de
gree; and finally, a breakfast (the repetition of
yesterday s) of pease and Indian pudding!! It
is a strange miscellany of grievances; but it does
my business it makes me curse my day. This
matter of the breakfast is the most intolerable,
just at this moment; because the taste of it is still
in my mouth, and the nausea and disgust over
whelms me like the consciousness of sin. Hell
is nothing else but eating pease and baked Indian
pudding! If thou lovest me, never let me see
either of them again. Keep such things for- thy
and my worst enemies^ Give thy husband bread.
202
or cold potatoes; and he never will complain-
but pease and Indian pudding! God forgive me
for ever having burthened my conscience with
such abominations. They are the Unpardona
ble Sin and the Intolerable Punishment, in one
and the same accursed spoon full !
I think I hardly ever had such a dismal time
as yesterday. I cannot bear the loneliness of the
house. I need the sunshine of the children ; even
their little quarrels and naughtinesses would be a
blessing to me. I need thee, above all, and find
myself, at every absence, so much the less able to
endure it. Come home come home!
Where dost thou think I was on Saturday af
ternoon? Thou wilt never guess.
In haste; for it is almost Custom House time.
THY HUSBAND.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
13 West Street,
Boston, Mass.
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
....
m, May 9 h , 1 849
Dearest,
Thy letter was received last night. What a
time thou hast! and I not there to help thee!
I almost feel as if I ought to come every day ; but
then I should do so little good arriving at 4
o clock; and the children going to bed at six or
seven; and the expense is so considerable. If
thou canst hold out till Friday, I shall endeavor
to come in the afternoon and stay till Monday.
But this must depend on arrangements hereafter
to be made; so do not absolutely expect me be
fore Saturday. Oh that Providence would bring
all of you home, before then! This is a misera
ble time for me; more so than for thee, with all
thy toil, and watchfulness and weariness. These
sunless days are as sunless within as without.
Thou hast no conception how melancholy our
house can be. It absolutely chills my heart.
If it is necessary for me to come sooner, write
204
by express. Give my love to Una and Julian,
and tell them how much I miss them. God bless
thee and them.
THINE OWNEST.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
13 West-street,
Boston.
205
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Yard, April 26^, 1850
Owncst wife,
Thy letter (dated 22d, but postmarked this
very day) has just arrived, and perplexed me ex
ceedingly with its strange aspect. Thy poor
dear thumb! I am afraid it puts thee to un
speakable pain and trouble, and I feel as if I
ought to be with thee; especially as Una is not
well. What is the matter? anything except
her mouth? I almost wish thou hadst told me
to come back.
It rained so continually on the day of my de
parture that I was not able to get over to the
Navy Yard, but had to put up at the Rocking-
ham House. Being recognized there, I was im
mediately lugged into society, whether I would
or no; taking tea at one place, and spending the
evening at another. I have since dined out, and
been invited to a party but escaped this latter
infliction. Bridge s house, however, is the quier-
206
est place imaginable, and I only wish thou
amidst be here, until our Lenox home is ready.
I long to see thee, and am sad for want of thee.
And thou too so comfortless in all that turmoil
and confusion!
I have been waiting for thee to write; else I
should have written before, though with nothing
to say to thee save the unimportant fact that I
love thee better than ever before, and that I can
not be at peace away from thee. Why has not
Dr. Wesselhoeft cured thy thumb? Thou nevei
must hereafter do any work whatever; thou wast
not made strong, and always sufferest tenfold
the value of thy activities. Thou didst much
amiss, to marry a husband who cannot keep thee
like a lady, as Bridge does his wife, and as I
should so delight to keep thee, doing only beauti
ful things, and reposing in luxurious chairs, and
with servants to go and to come. Thou hast a
hard lot in life; and so have I that witness it,
and can do little or nothing to help thee. Again
I wish that thou hadst told me to come back; or,
at least, whether I should come or no. Four days
more will bring us to the first of May, which is
next Wednesday; and it was my purpose to re
turn then. Thou wilt get this letter, I suppose,
tomorrow morning, and, if desirable, might send
207
to me by express the same day ; and I could leave
here on Monday morning. On looking at the
Pathfinder Guide, I find that a train leaves
Portsmouth for Boston at 5 o clock P.M.
Shouldst thou send me a message by the 1 1
o clock train, I might return and be with thee to
morrow (Saturday) evening, before 8 o clock. I
should come without being recalled; only that it
seems a sin to add another human being to the
multitudinous chaos of that house.
I cannot write. Thou hast our home and all
our interests, about thee, and away from thee
there is only emptiness so what have I to write
about?
THINE OWNEST HUSBAND.
P.S. If thou sendest for me to-morrow, arid
I do not come, thou must conclude that the ex
press did not reach me.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
, Care of Dr. Nathl. Peabody,
Boston, Massachusetts.
-268
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Lenox, July 3O th , 1851 .
Dearest Phoebe^
We are getting along perfectly well, and with
out a single event that could make a figure in a
letter. I keep a regular chronicle of all our do
ings; and you may read it on your return. Jul
ian seems perfectly happy, but sometimes talks
in rather a sentimental style about his mother.
I do hope thou earnest safely to West Newton,
and meetest with no great incommodities there.
Julian is now out in the garden; this being the
first time since thou wentest away, almost, (ex
cept when he was in bed) that he has left me for
five minutes together. I find him really quite a
tolerable little man!
Kiss Una for me, and believe me,
Thy affectionate husband,
N. H.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton.
209
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Lenox, August i. Friday*[i85i]
Dearest Phoebe^
I send the tools, which I found in one of the
cupboards. Thy two letters arrived together,
this morning. I was at the P. O. on Wednesday,
and greatly disappointed to find nothing.
Julian and I get along together in great har
mony, & as happy as we can be severed from
thee. It grieves me that thou findest nobody to
help thee there. It this state of things is to con
tinue, thou must abridge thy stay, and return be
fore thou art quite worn out.
I wrote a few lines on Tuesday (I think)
which I suppose thou hast received. I more
than ever abhor letter-writing; but thou partly
knowest that I am
Thy lovingest
HUSBAND.
Mrs. Sophia A. Hawthorne,
West Newton.
Ho
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Lenox, August y*h, 1851. Thursday
Owncst Phoebe^
I rec d thy letter yesterday. I will be in Pitts-
field on Thursday next (a week from to-day)
and will escort thee home.
I have written quite a small volume of Jul
ian s daily life and mine; so that, on thy return,
thou wilt know everything that we have done
and suffered; as to enjoyment, I don t remem
ber to have had any, during thy absence. It has
been all doing and suffering.
Thou sayest nothing whatever of Una.
Unless I receive further notice from thee I
shall consider Thursday the day. I shall go at
any rate, I think, rain or shine; but of course,
thou wilt not start in a settled rain. In that
case, I shall come again to Pittsfield, the next
day. But, if fair weather, I hope nothing will
detain thee; or if it necessarily must, and thou
211
has[t] previous knowledge of it, thou canst write
me.
Julian is peifectly well. We -both, according
to our respective capacities, long for thee.
Thinest,
N. H:
212
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
Lenox, August 8 th , 1851
Ovuncst Phoebe,
I wrote thee a note yesterday, and sent it to
the village by Cornelius; hut as he may have neg
lected to put it in, I write again. If thou wilt
start from West Newton on Thursday next, I
will meet thee at Pittsfield, which will answer
the same purjx)se as if I came all the way.
Mrs. Tappan requests that thou wilt bring ten
jxnmds of ground rice for her; or a less quantity,
if thou hast not room for so much.
Julian is very well, and keeps himself happy
from morning till night. I hope Una does the
same. Give my love to her.
I shall be most gladdest to see thee.
Thine,
N. H.
August 9th. Saturday. I reed, yesterday
213
thy note, in which thou speakest of deferring tby
return some days longer. Stay by all means as
long as may be needful. Julian gets along per
fectly well; and I am eager for thy coming only
because it is unpleasant to remain torn asunder.
Thou wilt write to tell me finally what day thou
deadest upon; but unless I hear from thee, I
>hall go to Pittsfield on Sii/i/rdciy, a week from
to-day. But if thou seest reason for staying
longer do so, that nothing may be left at loose
ends.
Julian and I had a fine ride yesterday with
Herman Melville and two other gentlemen.
Mrs. Peters is perfectly angelic.
Thinest,
N. H.
214
TO MRS. HAWTHORNE
West Newton, Scptr. 19 th , 1851
Dearest rhocbc\
Here I am as thou seest; and if not here, I
know not where I could he; for Boston is so full
that the Mayor has issued proclamation for the
inhabitants to throw open their doors. The
President is there.
They all appear to he well here; and thy
mother, it Horace and Georgia say truly, walked
three miles yesterday. I went with Mary to see
her, last evening, and found her much better
than I ever hoped.
Talking with Mary, last night, I explained
our troubles to her, and our wish to get
away from Lenox, and she renewed the
old proposition about our taking this house
for the winter. The great objection to it.
when first talked of, was, that we, or 1, did not
wish to have the care and responsibility oi your
father and mother. That is now removed. It
215
Strikes me as one of those unex{>ected, hut easy
and natural solutions wherewith Providence oc
casionally unknots a seemingly inextricahle diffi
culty. If you agree with me, you had better no
tify Mr. or Mrs. Sedgwick that we shall not
want the Kemble house. We can remain in the